Chapter Sixty-Seven: No Good End for the Obsequious

“Now, you can no longer move. The entire arena has become my gravity field. As time passes and the gravity intensifies, you’ll soon be crushed into a meat patty.” Jiang He sneered coldly.

From the very beginning of his battle with Cheng Feng, he had unleashed his gravity field, spreading it over the entire arena and enveloping everything within it. With this, no matter what Cheng Feng did, he could not escape the confines of the gravity zone. Under this crushing pressure, as if Mount Tai itself bore down on him, Cheng Feng’s movements and speed were severely restricted. Thus, Jiang He’s overall strength now far surpassed his opponent’s.

In preparation for today’s match, Jiang He had already researched Cheng Feng’s superpower records within the Association. Super strength, rapid regeneration, blood coagulation—though he didn’t know their precise names, he had already grasped the effects of these three abilities. Troublesome as they were, within an arena suppressed by gravity, the means at Cheng Feng’s disposal could no longer pose any real threat to Jiang He.

Cheng Feng could feel the increasing gravity pressing down on his body, growing heavier with every moment, the very bones within him creaking and grinding under the strain. Unless he left the arena and escaped the gravity field, he feared that, within minutes, he would truly be flattened into pulp. But leaping out of the arena would mean admitting defeat—and even that option was swiftly slipping from his grasp.

Jiang He’s eyes glinted with a grayish light as he unleashed an even greater force of gravity.

Not good!

Cheng Feng instinctively tried to evade, but under this force, he couldn’t even lift his foot.

A tremendous weight, nearly two thousand pounds, crashed down upon him like an immense mountain. Instantly, his spine issued a brittle crack, the stones beneath his feet shattered, and his legs sank into the ground. If not for the resilience of his vampiric physique, he would have been crushed to a bloody pulp on the spot.

...

“Poetry—Sister Poetry! My brother seems to be in trouble!” On the spectator stands, Cheng Yi was wringing her hands in anxiety. She’d been frightened out of her wits when Cheng Feng’s left shoulder had spurted blood earlier, and now, with the battle so dire, things looked truly grim.

“It’s alright… Trust your brother. He won’t be defeated so easily. Just watch with peace of mind.” Liu Shiyu responded with a serene smile, crossing her arms and maintaining a relaxed demeanor. She knew full well that Cheng Feng’s strength was enough to overcome the current situation. After all, he hadn’t used his trump card—Spirit Power Release—just yet. The scales of victory had not yet tipped.

...

“Hey, Cheng Feng looks to be in real danger now.” In the contestants’ waiting area, Gu Yan clicked her tongue as she watched the perilous scene on the arena. “In the end, Jiang He is just a bit stronger.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.” Luo Ke, beside her, remained unperturbed. “It’s still too early to say.”

...

On the arena.

White smoke rose from Cheng Feng’s left shoulder as the gaping wound healed itself, sealing over in an instant. Meanwhile, his mind raced, searching for a countermeasure.

“No one can move under my gravity. If you wish to surrender, it’s still not too late!” Seeing Cheng Feng immobilized, Jiang He let out a frosty laugh. With a sidelong glance, he peered at Liu Shiyu in the stands, hoping that his extraordinary performance would finally catch her eye.

But Liu Shiyu never once looked his way; her gaze remained fixed on Cheng Feng, even with a faint smile upon her lips. Jiang He’s heart filled with resentment.

Is Cheng Feng really all you see? If I defeat him right before your eyes, you’ll finally realize I’m stronger! Then, perhaps, you’ll glance at me—just once.

Obsessed by this thought, Jiang He charged at Cheng Feng, blade in hand.

Unaware of Jiang He’s delusions, Cheng Feng only knew that close combat under these conditions was a losing proposition—he could not let Jiang He get close. His arms were barely mobile, but with effort, he activated Blood Combat Technique. Fine lines of fresh blood welled from his right arm, forming three slender blood daggers in his palm, which he hurled toward Jiang He.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

“It’s useless!” Jiang He sneered, ignoring the oncoming daggers as if they were nothing. As the blood daggers drew near, they curved off course and fell to the ground, forced down by the oppressive gravity in the air.

Jiang He closed in, his gray-black spirit blade slicing through the air toward Cheng Feng in a savage arc.

At that critical moment, Cheng Feng’s dark eyes burst forth with intense white light, transforming into dazzling silver pupils. A surge of powerful energy exploded from his body.

Spirit Power Release—battle mode, activate!

In an instant, his fighting capacity multiplied. The gravity that had weighed him down now seemed as light as a feather, as if he had shrugged off those two thousand pounds that had bound him. With a powerful stomp, Cheng Feng launched himself away, using the rebound for a swift leap.

Bang!

Jiang He’s ferocious strike, meant to cleave his enemy in two, smashed violently into the spot where Cheng Feng had stood, sending shards of stone flying in all directions.

The audience gasped at the perilous scene.

“Even if you use Spirit Power Release, as long as you remain within my gravity field, you are no match for me!” Jiang He glared at Cheng Feng, eyes flashing, and instantly intensified the arena’s gravity to five times normal—his absolute limit.

Under a pressure that could instantly crush an ordinary person to sludge, Cheng Feng felt the burden anew. It was time to end this quickly!

Cheng Feng resolved not to hold back any longer. Lightning Shadow Step—activate! His feet shimmered with electric light as if he wore boots of thunder, and his speed reached its peak.

He rocketed forward at one hundred and six meters per second!

Even with years of experience as a demon hunter and exceptional dynamic vision, Jiang He could only catch a fleeting blur of black rushing toward him.

“What?!”

Cheng Feng’s sudden burst of speed left Jiang He unable to react. Cheng Feng’s electrified left leg rose in a vicious arc, splitting the air with a sonic boom as it smashed into Jiang He’s chest.

Thud!

Crack!

The sound of splintering ribs was followed by a wave of excruciating pain. Jiang He’s eyes bulged as he spat out a mouthful of blood and was sent flying.

Cheng Feng pressed the attack, accelerating like a streak of lightning to appear behind Jiang He. With a whistling wind, he lashed out with a merciless kick at Jiang He’s waist.

Crack!

Jiang He’s ribs snapped instantly, the agony so intense that he screamed, nearly fainting as he tumbled to the edge of the arena.

“No… Impossible!” Jiang He stammered, his face a mixture of rage and bewilderment as he struggled to his feet. “Impossible! There’s no speed-related ability in your records!”

Cheng Feng’s Lightning Shadow Step was a recent acquisition, unknown even to Liu Shiyu, and thus absent from the Association’s files. Jiang He, of course, had no idea.

With Jiang He gravely injured, his gravity suppression faded. Cheng Feng felt the immense weight lift from his body, and his expression calmed.

“Jiang He, I don’t understand why you’re so hostile toward me.”

Jiang He’s teeth ground together. “You know perfectly well why!”

“What I don’t understand is this—Liu Shiyu has never cared about you, yet you persist in this foolish, self-destructive obsession.”

“What do you know? Don’t act as if you understand everything!”

“What do you mean?”

“If you hadn’t appeared, maybe I’d have had a chance to get close to her.”

“Utterly ridiculous logic. It seems there’s no hope for you.” Cheng Feng’s silver eyes grew cold as he sheathed his crackling spirit blade at his waist. He bent his body in a stance reminiscent of a swordsman preparing to strike.

“I’m done playing with you. Now… let’s put an end to this.”

—Thunderclap Flash!

For someone with Jiang He’s mentality, only one ending was fitting—such a sycophant deserves no happy fate!

A chill rushed up Jiang He’s spine, and in a sudden shiver, the presence of death enveloped him.