Chapter 109: Clash of Blasts

Yang Yu’s figure moved in an instant, his speed so swift that he was almost a blur. Many present could not help but gasp in astonishment. No wonder Yang Yu was so highly valued by the Yang family, a powerful force in Qingchi. Judging by this speed alone, few adult masters in the late Guiyuan stage could match him. His speed was simply unparalleled, and to have such velocity embodied in a mere youth was undeniable proof of extraordinary talent...

Almost no one could bear to witness Che Wuyou’s fate any longer. A young man at the early Purple Mansion stage stood no chance; it was doubtful he would even have time to utter “I give up.” This cast a heavy shadow over the crowd’s hearts. Previously, during the Tower of Heaven’s trials, any form of fighting or killing among participants was strictly forbidden.

Yet this time, for reasons unknown, the Qingchi Sword Sect — a pillar of the Immortal Dao — had openly declared that life and death would no longer be considered in the Tower of Heaven’s test. Che Wuyou might very well be the first to die under these new rules, everyone thought silently.

Sure enough, two figures collided with tremendous force. One figure suddenly froze mid-motion, while the other was violently thrown back. The airborne figure traced a sorrowful arc before crashing to the ground with the dull thud of a soaked sack, scattering a swirl of fallen leaves.

A gentle sigh escaped from the crowd—reality was brutal. They had hoped for some twist, some chance, but faced with absolute power, the youth who had seemed so composed and even slightly provocative was utterly helpless.

“No master should be insulted, especially those who dare challenge a superior without the strength to back it up. Such arrogance deserves death, and no one else can be blamed for it,” Yang Yu said as he looked down at the motionless Che Wuyou. His previously fierce and savage expression softened into calmness. He spoke like a peerless hero who had just completed a righteous mission to slay demons, with a tone both detached and proud.

“Young Hero Yang speaks truly. Although we Immortal Dao practitioners should be merciful, we must show no leniency to these arrogant fools. Young Hero Yang’s slaying of such a scoundrel sets a fine example for us all. We should follow in his footsteps and continually strive to emulate him,” said a burly young man, boldly flattering Yang Yu with a broad grin.

With the burly youth’s words, the previously somber atmosphere revived. Several youths eager to curry favor with Yang Yu promptly showered him with compliments for his feat. Yang Yu himself showed no embarrassment; his smile grew ever wider, clearly basking in the adulation.

“Well done, well done. What is your name and where do you come from?” Yang Yu asked the burly youth with a hint of pride as he strode toward Che Wuyou. “You’re quite capable. From now on, follow me. I can’t promise much else, but I hereby solemnly declare that you have passed this Tower of Heaven test.”

“My name is Zhang Tong, eldest son of the Zhang family from Bianzhou. I thank Young Hero Yang for his favor. From now on, I belong to you... Young Hero Yang commands east, I dare not go west; commands south, I dare not go north. Whatever orders Young Hero Yang gives, Zhang Tong will surely obey...” Zhang Tong’s large, sturdy frame bent forward exaggeratedly, his hands gesturing wildly as a sycophantic grin stretched across his face.

“Alright, alright, you’re quite the character,” Yang Yu chuckled modestly. Catching Li Zhen’s scornful gaze, he reluctantly interrupted Zhang Tong’s flattery. He then kicked Che Wuyou’s body lightly and reached to untie the rough cloth pouch hanging from Che Wuyou’s waist.

Li Zhen, who had been locked in a standoff with Ye Xuan, was distracted by the scene unfolding before him and lost the will to continue. He looked at Zhang Tong with disgust, then at the fallen Che Wuyou. Should he seize the twenty kilograms of low-grade primal stones on Che Wuyou? He had long disliked Yang Fengge, and since Yang Yu was allied with Yang Fengge, causing Yang Fengge displeasure seemed worthwhile to Li Zhen. Though he despised Yang Yu as well, he had no intention of confronting him directly—Yang Yu was simply beyond his reach.

But just as Yang Yu’s hand reached out toward Che Wuyou, an unexpected change occurred. The motionless Che Wuyou suddenly moved. He swiftly reached out with his right hand, grabbing Yang Yu’s just-extended hand, then unleashed a furious left hook that cut through the air with a sharp whistle and struck Yang Yu’s handsome face.

Although Yang Yu was a young master of his generation, he was stunned by this sudden turn. Others might not have understood, but Yang Yu knew exactly what had happened at the moment of impact. As a mid-Guiyuan master, dealing with someone at the early Purple Mansion stage was trivial for him. Yet to assert his authority, he had employed over fifty percent of his strength in the collision with Che Wuyou. He was certain that under such a heavy blow, not even a Purple Mansion peak master would survive.

Yet Che Wuyou was not only alive but counterattacked. In the blink of an eye, his left hook blossomed a vivid red mark on Yang Yu’s face. Everyone was dumbfounded—Yang Yu had been struck, and badly.

“Ah... I will crush you to dust,” Yang Yu roared with a heart-rending yell, like a raging lion. As he spoke, his right foot shot forward in a vicious kick aimed at Che Wuyou’s face. Had it landed, Che Wuyou’s features would have been deformed.

But before Yang Yu’s foot could fall, Che Wuyou’s right leg coiled around him like a python. Holding Yang Yu’s right hand firmly, Che Wuyou delivered a sharp kick to Yang Yu’s back.

“Boom...” Under the stunned gazes of the crowd, Yang Yu’s back took a solid blow, causing him to lose balance and tumble together with Che Wuyou.

Yang Yu’s profound strength was well known, and Che Wuyou understood he could not win in a straightforward fight. So at the moment of collision, he used his physical advantage to absorb Yang Yu’s heavy strike. His goal was to confuse Yang Yu, lure him close, and then engage in close-quarters combat. With the body refining techniques of the Huangdi Classic at his disposal, Che Wuyou feared no hand-to-hand fight.

Indeed, Yang Yu had underestimated him and handed Che Wuyou this opportunity. But Yang Yu was a master of his generation. Even though Che Wuyou’s body refining had reached the pinnacle of his meridian stage, his overall strength was still far below Yang Yu’s. After the initial shock, Yang Yu quickly adapted to the close combat.

Wherever Che Wuyou struck, Yang Yu summoned his true energy to endure the blow. At the same time, he seized every chance to retaliate with thunderous force whenever Che Wuyou showed an opening.

Yang Yu knew Che Wuyou’s grappling skills were exquisite and escaping his grasp was impossible unless Che Wuyou was completely incapacitated. So each strike from Yang Yu was heavy and precise, aiming to maximize damage. Che Wuyou, incensed by Yang Yu’s cunning, responded with equal ferocity. Neither hesitated to inflict pain; each exchange drew blood, the fight brutal and merciless.

After some time, Yang Yu began to gain the upper hand. His strength advantage was clear, and having grown up in the Qingchi Sword Sect, his experience and tactics were exceptional. Summarizing in his mind, he steadily turned the tide in the ongoing clash with Che Wuyou.

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