Chapter Forty-Eight: Violence Begets Violence

Mu Tong stepped onto the stage, sending a wave of panic through many in the Sacred Domain. No one dared even to breathe loudly. Their group of dozens had marched forward triumphantly, defeating eighteen cities in succession without losing a single member. Yet, since arriving at the Shrouded Heaven City, they had suffered repeated setbacks, and now, only five cultivators below the Spirit King level remained. Even those who arrived last, all at the Spirit King level, numbered just three who could still fight.

Mu Tong, the backbone of their force, now ascended the stage so recklessly, leaving them riddled with worry. Lan Dun had previously warned that the strange monkey possessed astonishing speed—precisely Mu Tong’s weakness. If that was true, Shrouded Heaven City might soon become their greatest humiliation.

“That monkey—is it really that person’s pet? If even the pet is so fierce, the master must be formidable indeed. My father expended great effort to resist the barrier’s pressure and send me here. Surely, it won’t be in vain,” mused a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl clad in black, resting her chin in her hands as she watched the martial arena with keen interest from a private box belonging to the Bright Moon Pavilion.

She stood tall, her figure graceful as a peach tree in spring, hair black as lacquer. The skin exposed from beneath her robes was smooth as jade, her beautiful eyes shining with a mysterious allure. Every gesture and expression radiated an indescribable charm. Like a peony just about to bloom—beautiful but not garish, radiant yet not vulgar, possessing a thousand graces, truly unparalleled.

“Princess… Do you think we should investigate further, just to confirm whether this man is the one we seek?” Behind the girl, an elderly man hunched slightly, addressing her respectfully.

She glanced back playfully, waving her delicate hand and saying, “Uncle Meng, it’s him. No doubt. I can handle this myself—you all go attend to your own affairs! We won’t be able to stay here much longer, after all.”

The old man gave her an affectionate look, then gazed into the distance. “There’s no shortage of experts here. I can sense it—this small mountain city is guarded by someone whose strength is not inferior to mine.”

“Look, he’s appeared!” As the girl and the old man conversed, the figure of Ye Feng emerged in the arena below, drawing everyone’s attention.

Ye Feng strode out from the crowd toward the martial stage. “As you wish, I will fight you.”

“Wait!” Xiao Chong, quick-eyed and deft, grabbed him. “He’s a Spirit King-level master—you don’t need to be reckless! The capital’s people will arrive in a day or two; don’t act rashly!”

Ye Feng glanced back at his friend, understanding his concern for his safety. He gave a reassuring look and walked onto the stage without another word.

Xiao Chong nodded silently. The power dynamics in the capital were intricate, and he hoped Ye Feng would make a stunning impression during this challenge, using his strength to win over uncertain families.

Wherever people gather, conflict follows—especially in the capital, where the struggle is fiercest. With the Ye clan returning, the great lords would surely intervene, unwilling to let such a colossal force rise again.

With Sacred Domain watching from the outside and powerful families obstructing from within, Ye Feng, thrust forward by the elders to represent his clan, could only rely on his own strength.

Ye Feng strode into the arena, addressing Mu Tong: “We have no personal enmity, but you hail from the Sacred Domain. I can only use your blood to remind myself of certain things!”

Mu Tong was furious. He was no ordinary man, but ranked among the top young experts of the Sacred Domain, born of the faction with real power.

“Hmph! Return my brother’s life!”

He swung his heavy sword with the force of storm clouds, like Mount Tai crashing down. The immense pressure caused the sturdy stage to crack.

He attacked with killing intent, no pretense or flourish. Many spectators encircling the battlefield were sent flying by the shockwave.

Chaos erupted, but the crowd quickly regained composure, being no ordinary folk.

Then something astonishing happened. Under the crushing pressure, Ye Feng stood unmoved, watching as the violent sword bore down. Ye Feng raised one hand, channeling his spiritual power, and a golden arm appeared—like a war god’s limb—grasping the descending sword from below.

“Hmph!”

Xu Shan snorted, his spiritual power surging like a mountain. The heavy sword pressed down again.

But…

The golden arm held the sword aloft, showing no sign of strain.

“If this is all you have, I am truly disappointed,” Ye Feng said coldly, his face expressionless.

He clenched his raised arm, and the golden arm mimicked him, gripping the iron sword tightly.

“Get out!”

With a sweep, the massive sword, along with Mu Tong, was flung from the stage and crashed heavily below.

“Haha…”

The people of Shrouded Heaven City burst into laughter.

“So much for the Sacred Domain’s strength!”

But the laughter abruptly ceased. Mu Tong, flung aside, climbed up in a rage, beating his chest like a berserk giant ape.

“Berserk!” Mu Tong’s eyes reddened, his body swelling as if inflating. With the sound of tearing fabric, a hulking brute appeared before the crowd, muscles bulging and arms thicker than most men’s thighs.

Boom…

He advanced in long strides, smashing a stone pillar at the arena’s edge with a single punch. Then, he swung his heavy sword at Ye Feng once more.

“I want you dead!”

Mu Tong, now berserk, eyes bloodshot, stepped forward and slashed. The solid stage trembled violently; beneath his feet, a deep footprint was stamped into the ground.

“If it’s a contest of strength you want, then I’ll give you what you wish!”

The golden arm appeared again. This time, it clenched into a fist, clashing directly with the mountain-splitting sword.

Clang…

Thunderous sounds echoed across the stage, like a mighty hammer striking sacred iron, the ringing persistent.

As before, even the berserk Mu Tong was forced back repeatedly by the golden fist.

The crowd erupted in astonishment.

“This guy is unbelievable—he’s fighting Mu Tong in berserk mode with just innate cultivation. Incredible!” Below, the usually listless Killing Demon stared at Ye Feng on stage in disbelief.

“Retreat!” Nearby, the Sacred Domain’s team leader shouted, about to rush forward, but another pulled him back, whispering, “If we provoke these people, we’ll be beaten to death!”

“Retreat? You’ll all die here!” Having repelled Mu Tong, Ye Feng’s spiritual power surged again. His arms turned golden, like oversized golden bracers, enveloping his fists.

Die…

With the stride of a dragon, Ye Feng moved with astonishing speed, his golden fists struck fiercely.

Boom…

Mu Tong retreated once more. Though his sword blocked Ye Feng’s punch, the flesh between his thumbs was torn open by the impact.

“Weren’t you supposed to be strong? Come again…”

Berserk now, Ye Feng matched Mu Tong’s fury. Violence answered violence; his golden fists were simple, direct, each blow drawing blood.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Mu Tong was now utterly on the defensive, battered by Ye Feng’s relentless storm of blows, his body rupturing everywhere, blood spurting freely.

Boom…

Another punch struck Mu Tong’s abdomen, sending him flying. Now, Mu Tong’s hair was wild, one arm hung limply, the veins burst, a broken bone piercing through flesh and exposed to the air.