Chapter Fifty-One: Striking Where It Hurts

Perfect timing, I was just waiting for you all to come.

A thunderous roar erupted as Mao Yiqiang and his group made the first move; Lin Qingyun’s feet pressed down, and in an instant, the ground exploded beneath him, flames and dust swirling about. Whether or not the area was under surveillance, Lin Qingyun cared little for anyone witnessing the specifics. After all, dealing with so many at once, people could know the outcome—that he had fought again despite his freshly mended wounds—but he absolutely could not let anyone observe the details.

Amidst bursts of fire and clouds of dust, several figures were blasted straight out. There were no screams, for Lin Qingyun targeted their faces specifically; only muffled groans escaped, as bones shattered and teeth scattered.

“Surround him! Don’t let him escape!” Li Daoze shouted, urging everyone to act together.

But before he could finish, a ball of fire hurtled toward him, smashing directly into his mouth. The fire exploded, and he felt as if half his mouth had been roasted. Numbness overwhelmed his lips and he could speak no more, his body sent flying.

“Sword energy soaring to the heavens—retreat! Use wind spells to clear this area, surround him, don’t scatter—” Zheng Haoyue commanded, his mind not wholly focused, distracted by Lin Qingyun’s wounds. Yet, with dozens on his side, most at the second or third level of the Heart of the Zither realm, four at the fourth, one at the fifth, and himself, this group could easily overwhelm Nangong Lingyue, who would not dare face them directly.

But he underestimated Lin Qingyun’s ability to sow chaos. In the confusion, five or six were severely injured and thrown out, leaving the situation chaotic and impossible to coordinate. Zheng Haoyue quickly sensed something was wrong.

His two flying swords spun quickly about him as he retreated, directing his team to attack. A wild wind whipped up, but soon, the wind fanned the flames, explosions resounded, dust and fire refused to dissipate, and the three wind specialists only made it worse.

Cries of pain rang out—not from those attacked, but from those scorched by the wind-stirred flames.

The sound of bones shattering echoed repeatedly; those thrown out bore faces twisted and broken.

“Anyone below the fourth level, retreat!” Zheng Haoyue hadn’t expected Lin Qingyun’s counterattack to be so fierce and powerful despite being outnumbered, nor for the situation to spiral out of control so quickly.

Though cunning and battle-tested, his experience was child’s play compared to Lin Qingyun’s. Organizing people to deal with mindless beasts was one thing; fighting against humans was another, and his mistakes were many.

His initial judgment was flawed—he thought Lin Qingyun, gravely injured, could be handled by Li Daoze and Mao Yiqiang, with the rest overwhelming him through sheer numbers. He didn’t realize that anyone below the fourth level couldn’t withstand even one blow from Lin Qingyun.

Those who charged ahead only hindered their own cooperation. Once the battle truly began, it was too late to order a retreat. With no formation, no coordinated attacks, no camaraderie forged through countless life-and-death struggles, this rabble only became stumbling blocks.

The situation grew ever more chaotic, with some even lashing out desperately, injuring their own.

As Lin Qingyun moved with Seven Star Steps, flames swirling and dust billowing, the entire floor was obscured, figures lost in the haze.

“Withdraw!” Zheng Haoyue sensed the danger, his flying swords spinning faster as he retreated.

Clangs rang out as he relied on his swords for defense, believing he could escape. But that was merely wishful thinking. A beam of light shot from behind, blocked by his swords but with such force that they were sent flying, control instantly lost.

In a split second, as if space itself had shrunk, a shadow emerged from the dust and fire, fist smashing into Zheng Haoyue’s face.

Blow after blow landed heavily on his visage; nose broken, teeth shattered, flames from Lin Qingyun’s fists spreading across his skin, igniting his hair and clothes.

Intense pain and a nameless terror flooded him. Wasn’t Lin Qingyun supposed to be injured? He had seemed so badly hurt—how could this be? Was he really so much weaker? With so many on his side, in full defense, he still couldn’t stop him...

Pain and dread mingled with a powerful sense of unwillingness. Even after hearing how Lin Qingyun had forced many to withdraw from the tournament, Zheng Haoyue had remained confident; those defeated were merely freshmen below the fourth level, not the elite. He believed in his strength, but had never planned to confront Lin Qingyun directly—this reckless troublemaker would quickly draw the wrath of many, and others could deal with him without Zheng Haoyue lowering himself.

He’d considered dealing with Lin Qingyun several times these past days, but never by his own hand—it would have been beneath him.

He’d anticipated everything but this: meeting under such circumstances, exchanging a few words before the fight erupted, and not even getting a chance to engage Lin Qingyun himself...

The next moment, his consciousness faltered, replaced only by agony—hair burning, skin blistering, clothes aflame, and the sound of others groaning in pain.

With faces battered beyond recognition, mouths destroyed, they couldn’t even scream.

“You force me to use the explosive pill, to unleash, to aggravate my injuries...”

More sounds of bodies being hurled echoed. The last few were knocked out as well. While it’s said not to strike the face, Lin Qingyun targeted only that, leaving the rest untouched.

After several minutes, a few managed to struggle to their feet, surveying the fallen—except for a handful of girls, all the boys’ clothes and hair had been burned away.

With Heart of the Zither realm cultivation, pills, and modern technology, broken bones, facial injuries, and lost teeth could all be healed—not truly severe wounds. Even now, once partially recovered, they could retain seventy to eighty percent of their combat power, enough to face monsters.

Yet, in this scene, many awoke and immediately used their wristbands to withdraw from the contest.

Some girls, withdrawing while feigning unconsciousness, simply couldn’t bear to witness this humiliation awake.

Inside the command room:

“Number 3650 withdrawn, 1867 withdrawn, 5691 withdrawn...”

With the chaos among the sand rat hordes, a minor beast tide had formed, leading to the collapse of Zheng Haoyue’s small team and the defeat of a thousand or two freshmen in this area.

Many had already withdrawn amidst the collapse, but as Zheng Haoyue’s group retreated and clashed with Lin Qingyun, the overall situation was stabilizing, with only a trickle of withdrawals—until suddenly, numbers surged.

This unexpected incident had drawn all the coordinators to focus here.

When rescue personnel arrived, they found Li Daoze, Mao Yiqiang and others lying on the ground, faces battered, hair and clothing completely burned away...

It was all too familiar. This had Lin Qingyun’s signature all over it—missing for more than a day, now back with a vengeance.

“Where is he?” Even Feng Shouyi was losing his composure.

“He was just here, but his wristband signal was blocked. He may have used a Cloud Ascension realm beast hide or something else to shield his band—we can’t lock onto him right now.”

“Report: Preliminary investigation is in. According to those who withdrew, they encountered Lin Qingyun healing himself. He cursed them, telling them to get out of his healing spot. Mao Yiqiang and others attacked, intending to deal with Lin Qingyun, but were instead beaten by him, who used an explosive pill, ignoring the risk of aggravating his injuries.”

“Zheng Haoyue, the leader, didn’t call for help—he escaped.”

As the staff reported, unable to locate Lin Qingyun who was clearly prepared, they immediately focused on Zheng Haoyue.

Zheng Haoyue hadn’t withdrawn; he left as soon as he regained consciousness, then killed a wolf demon driven out by the rat king, quickly skinning it to wrap himself.

He was a prominent talent under close watch, admired for his organizational skills. Under normal circumstances, such a fiasco would be the talk of the town, but after these days, everyone was numb.

Song Yichen, Xie Zhiqiang, Zheng Haoyue...

“How could dozens of Zheng Haoyue’s group be so quickly handled by an injured Lin Qingyun? It only took seconds. Are they really weaker than Xie Zhiqiang?”

It seemed incredible to some.

“It’s nothing, really. Though Zheng Haoyue’s group was large, Zheng Haoyue was the strongest—and their actual combat skills lagged. Without proper preparation, they really might not be a match for Lin Qingyun...”

“They were too careless, didn’t expect Lin Qingyun to go berserk, immediately using an explosive pill...”

“Lin Qingyun is certainly a wild card—not hunting beasts, but... sigh...”

Everyone sighed. Ever since Lin Qingyun was severely wounded by Xie Zhiqiang and vanished, they’d thought he’d finally quiet down—who could have guessed he’d stir up such trouble again, forcing so many withdrawals at once.

Nan Yutong stood at the front, indifferent unless specifically addressed, though she was helpless as well. Among those Lin Qingyun defeated, the majority were new students from Haicheng Student Council.

At least Zheng Haoyue hadn’t withdrawn; otherwise, Haicheng University’s results would be hard to predict. They might still be first in the war zone, but whether they could compete with Capital University was uncertain.

The thought gave her a headache. If only Lin Qingyun could be like Nangong Lingyue and the others—then Haicheng University might truly surpass Capital University this time.

If Lin Qingyun keeps this up, even holding onto second place would be in doubt.