Chapter Thirty-One: Sudden Upheaval

Long past caring, and having paid no attention to the murmurs and discussions in the audience below, Gu and Zeng continued their deadly dance, trading blows with reckless abandon.

“Junior Brother Gu, I truly underestimated you!”

“Should I take that as a compliment?” Gu replied.

It was rare for Zeng Hu to speak a complete sentence. This was a sign that he now regarded Little Fatty Gu as a true rival, a peer standing at the very summit.

At this moment, Gu’s fighting style shifted once again, and Zeng Hu’s became even more ruthless. The twin rhino horns ceaselessly parried and thrust, while balls of fire, one after another, blazed toward Zeng Hu and his axe with utter disregard for safety. Each time Zeng Hu swung his great axe, golden energy would erupt in tandem. Both men wielded the most violent and destructive elemental attributes, so the storm of energy unleashed by their clash was already on par with battles between some early-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators of the inner sect.

This intensity drew glances from several Foundation Establishment disciples among the inner sect audience, their attention momentarily pulled from their own competition.

Countless exchanges of attack and defense passed in a blur.

By now, Little Fatty Gu’s blue robe was drenched in blood, tattered and slashed as though by countless swords and knives. His flesh gaped open along the wounds, blood trickling down in gruesome streams—he looked as if he had walked straight from the carnage of the Asura battlefield, evoking memories of his first match when he arrived late, surrounded by a murderous aura.

Zeng Hu, meanwhile, was scorched and blackened all over, the smell of roasted flesh thick around him. His clothes, beard, and hair were all but destroyed, only scraps of inner armor remained, glowing red like the fire-baked mountain-splitting axe in his hands. Had one not known his identity beforehand, it would be hard to believe this was the very Zeng Hu who had forced Leng Zikang to break through on the spot and ascend to the inner sect.

The disciples below and the elders above alike were deeply moved by the spectacle. Mu Wan’er and the beautiful junior sister in the corner both had tears glistening at the corners of their eyes.

Little Fatty Gu still stood firm, spitting out mouthfuls of blood, his body shuddering uncontrollably as he squinted at the charred figure across from him. Zeng Hu, gasping for breath, exhaled smoke with every labored sigh; whenever he moved, countless black scabs fell from his body, and he glared back at the blood-soaked figure before him.

Both had reached their absolute limits. At this point, if either took even a single direct hit from the other, the deadlock would be broken and victory decided.

After granting each other a brief moment to recover, Little Fatty Gu suddenly gripped the twin fiery rhino horns in reverse, stepped forward, spraying blood as he moved. Zeng Hu struggled to lift his great axe in reply.

By now, they both knew that the longer the fight dragged on, the worse their chances. Little Fatty Gu’s combat instincts blazed; in his mind, so long as he could wound the enemy a thousand times, even if he suffered eight hundred himself, it was a worthy trade.

Risking another slash from the giant axe, Little Fatty Gu thrust one rhino horn to block the blade barely an inch from his abdomen, while the other horn drove mercilessly into Zeng Hu’s shoulder, piercing deep into his torso…

Both fighters collapsed to the ground, sending cold sweat trickling down the backs of every spectator in the outer sect stands. Instinctively, they knew that if they ever faced either of these two in a life-and-death battle, they would surely die without hope.

Now, on the stage, the only thing left for the two was sheer willpower.

Zeng Hu, with the rhino horn driven straight from his shoulder into his body, lay paralyzed on the ground, able only to lift his head with great effort. Little Fatty Gu, his abdomen opened by the axe as the hard rhino horn snapped in two beneath the blade, blood streaming from the deeper wound, propped himself up with trembling hands on the broken horn, swaying as he struggled to rise.

The inner and outer sect disciples below were gripped by such tension that they leapt to their feet, erupting in thunderous cheers that crashed like waves.

And just at that moment, disaster struck!

Zeng Hu, able only to half-raise his head, curled his lips, and a black needle—visible to the naked eye and radiating an aura of utter evil—shot straight toward Little Fatty Gu’s chest!

“How dare you!”

“Stop!”

“Are you seeking death?”

From the floating elders’ platform, several figures, including Old Fifth Gu, shot toward the stage with roaring voices…