Chapter 22

Phew!

Zhao Feng let out a slight sigh of relief, sitting down to rest below the arena, while the many Zhao clan disciples around him looked at him with evident wariness and fear.

In the group stage, Zhao Feng had clearly emerged as a dark horse, rising strongly and dominating with a set of basic boxing techniques, unmatched by any opponent.

Even Zhao Chen, who ranked seventh among the outer disciples, was defeated by him.

With twenty consecutive victories, Zhao Feng had already advanced beyond the group stage and no longer needed to continue competing.

"I wonder how the other groups are doing."

Zhao Feng's gaze swept over the other groups.

The preliminary rounds were divided into ten groups, each containing the most capable outer disciples.

Apart from Zhao Feng, there were others in the other groups who had also won twenty consecutive matches and advanced beyond the group stage.

The fastest among them was Zhao Yijian from the second group.

Zhao Yijian's sword speed was astonishingly fast, with the sword light appearing as a cold stream that the eye could barely catch. Before the opponent could react, the tip of the sword would already be at their throat.

In terms of advancement speed, Zhao Yijian was even faster than Zhao Yue, who ranked first.

"At the outer martial assembly, only the top three—Zhao Yue, Zhao Yijian, and Zhao Yufei—can pose a threat to me."

Zhao Feng observed quietly.

Zhao Yue, who ranked first, was older, at seventeen, with a fully developed physique and greater strength, and his foundation was deeper than anyone else's.

"Reverse Wind Fist!"

A disciple at the third level of martial arts struck Zhao Yue with a powerful punch, but Zhao Yue stood firm like a mountain, his skin as hard as iron, completely unharmed.

What!

The third-level martial disciple's face turned pale, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Such strong defense!

Zhao Feng was slightly taken aback.

A full-strength attack from a third-level martial disciple had not even scratched Zhao Yue.

It was clear that Zhao Yue must have cultivated a defensive martial technique that enhanced his defensive and endurance capabilities far beyond his peers.

At least, under normal circumstances, Zhao Feng could not withstand a third-level martial disciple's attack without getting injured.

If Zhao Yijian's strength lay in speed and powerful attacks, then Zhao Yue was the opposite, being very steady and excelling in defense.

Following closely behind, ranking third, was Zhao Yufei, who was light and graceful, with a clear and ethereal beauty. Her martial techniques combined hardness and softness, often defeating opponents with ease and grace.

She wore a purple robe, with long lashes and skin like jade, her slender figure dreamlike, making her stand out on the arena.

Watching Zhao Yufei fight was a feast for the eyes.

"Who is she? So young and already a quasi-martial artist."

Even some inner disciples were drawn to Zhao Yufei.

"Truly beautiful, with an extraordinary aura. With such high talent, such a talented beauty would shine even in the inner circle, probably out of our reach."

"She is still young. In a couple of years, she might rival the first beauty of Yuyang City, 'Qi Mengyu.'"

...

To a certain extent, Zhao Yufei's attention surpassed that of the first and second-ranked Zhao Yue and Zhao Yijian.

This was mainly due to her beauty and talent.

Before long, each of the ten groups produced a champion who had won twenty consecutive matches.

First group: Zhao Yue, second group: Zhao Yijian, third group: Zhao Yufei, fourth group: Zhao Qian, fifth group: Zhao Guang...

These names were almost the top ten among the outer disciples.

However, the only exception was the seventh group.

Zhao Feng, as a dark horse, had replaced Zhao Chen in the seventh position.

Apart from these ten, very few others managed to win twenty consecutive matches.

The group stage continued, with each group selecting the top ten based on the number of victories.

In just one day, the group stage selected one hundred people.

These one hundred were all elite outer disciples.

However, to participate in the family martial assembly's final, only the top fifty outer disciples were selected to compete with the inner disciples.

On the second day, the one hundred advanced disciples gathered again at the Heavenly Martial Arena.

After a night's rest, Zhao Feng was full of energy.

He found that such competitions had a positive impact on his cultivation.

"Today we will enter the second phase, the ranking round! You one hundred are the elites of the outer disciples, but today's competition will eliminate half, selecting fifty to participate in the final of the martial assembly. The rules of the competition are as follows..."

A loud voice echoed throughout the Heavenly Martial Arena.

The one hundred participants held their breath, listening carefully to the rules.

The ranking round used a points system, with each person starting with 1 point. Each win added 1 point, and each loss deducted 1 point.

In the end, the top fifty would be selected based on points to compete with the inner disciples.

"The competition begins!"

As the host's voice fell, the referees on the ten arenas began announcing the match numbers.

"Number 144 vs. Number 26!"

"Number 73 vs. Number 429!"

The ten arenas, regardless of group, began their matches simultaneously.

Each arena, as soon as one round ended, immediately started the next, with high efficiency.

Often, when facing a stronger opponent, many chose to forfeit.

For example, top-tier disciples like Zhao Yue and Zhao Yijian, whose strength was unshakable, had their opponents directly give up, preferring to conserve energy for the next round.

"Number 188 vs. Number 169!"

Finally, it was Zhao Feng's turn.

His opponent was a black-faced youth at the peak of the second level of martial arts.

"I forfeit!"

The black-faced youth, upon seeing Zhao Feng, shuddered and immediately forfeited.

Zhao Feng was taken aback.

It turned out that this black-faced youth had been in the same group as Zhao Feng during the preliminary rounds, though they hadn't faced each other, he had witnessed Zhao Feng's dominance with basic boxing techniques.

Thus, Zhao Feng easily and comfortably earned his first point in the ranking round, his score increasing from 1 to 2.

The efficiency of the matches was high, and even in drawn-out battles, the referees had the authority to declare a winner.

Before long, it was Zhao Feng's second turn.

This time, his opponent was a rather pretty girl in plain clothes, only at the second level of martial arts.

"Your strength is great. I've seen your matches before, but I will not give up easily."

The girl in plain clothes bit her lip.

Facing such a weak female opponent, most people would feel soft-hearted and let up a bit.

"Flame Rigid Fist!"

The simple and unadorned basic boxing technique roared like a fireball, sending the girl in plain clothes flying back several meters and falling to the ground.

A quick and decisive victory!

Zhao Feng didn't want to waste time; his opponent was too weak to help his cultivation.

I lost!

The girl in plain clothes was somewhat disheartened and left dejectedly.

"Tsk! Bullying a weak girl, what's so great about that!"

"I'll go up next and avenge my sister Xin!"

Zhao Feng's performance caused some dissatisfaction among the young men.

"Number 188 wins!"

The referee glanced at Zhao Feng with a hint of admiration.

The matches continued in an orderly manner.

Zhao Feng's points kept accumulating.

"Forfeit!"

"I forfeit!"

"Flame Rigid Fist!"

Most of Zhao Feng's opponents conceded, with only a few "resisting to the end," naturally suffering a crushing defeat.

"This kid's strength is probably at the quasi-martial artist level."

As the battles continued, more and more people recognized his strength.

Zhao Feng, in his spare time, also paid attention to the matches of Zhao Yue, Zhao Yijian, and others.

At one moment.

A confrontation on the third arena caught everyone's attention.

"Look! Zhao Yijian vs. Zhao Qian!"

Many people exclaimed, drawing a lot of attention.

Zhao Feng glanced over and saw that Zhao Yijian and Zhao Qian had already engaged.

The confrontation between the second and fourth-ranked outer disciples naturally drew attention.

These two were both in the top five, with not much difference in strength.

"Poison Snake Tenth Form!"

Zhao Qian coldly shouted, moving like a venomous snake, coiling and dodging Zhao Yijian's attacks with great agility, and continuously closing in to attack.

Zhao Feng was slightly impressed. After a month, Zhao Qian's strength had increased significantly, reaching the tenth form of the "Poison Snake Thirteen Forms," achieving the quasi-martial artist level.

At this point, Zhao Qian's strength could be compared to "Xin Fei" from the Hengyun Sky Forest.

"Your progress is significant, but you will always be my underling."

Zhao Yijian's expression was cold and proud. His sword flashed, creating a cold stream of sword light, moving at an extreme speed.

Some Zhao clan disciples outside the arena felt a strange chill.

"Advanced martial technique 'Cold Stream Sword'! This is a very difficult advanced martial technique, excelling in speed and sharpness, making it extremely hard to counter!"

Some people whispered.

Zhao Yijian's sword light grew increasingly cold, leaving icy trails like the cold wind of winter.

Zhao Qian barely dodged a few strikes, but was in a dangerous situation, leaving a blood trail on his body.

In his senses, a cold sword wind lingered, enveloping his mind and body like an unshakeable shadow.

"Zhao Yijian wins!"

The referee, with a sharp eye, immediately stopped the match, declaring Zhao Yijian the winner.

At this moment, Zhao Qian's back was drenched in cold sweat, looking at Zhao Yijian in disbelief: "How did he do it..."

In less than ten moves, Zhao Yijian defeated Zhao Qian.

"Zhao Yijian's strength has become so powerful!"

Some Zhao clan disciples looked shocked.

In the past, Zhao Yijian and Zhao Qian had faced each other before.

But back then, it would take Zhao Yijian dozens or even hundreds of moves to defeat Zhao Qian.

"Zhao Yijian's strength might be on par with Zhao Yue."

Some people speculated.

Zhao Yijian excelled in attack, while Zhao Yue excelled in defense.

What would happen if these two met?

Many people were secretly looking forward to it...

The matches continued in an orderly manner.

Zhao Yijian and Zhao Yue became the top contenders for the "outer first" position.

Secondly, Zhao Yufei was also popular, remaining undefeated.

Zhao Feng quietly observed everything, his expression calm as ever.

When his points reached forty-five, Zhao Feng remained undefeated.

At this moment, he encountered a strong opponent.

That was Zhao Guang, ranked fifth among the outer disciples, just below Zhao Qian.

Zhao Guang had also accumulated nearly forty points, losing only to Zhao Yue once.

"Hehe, kid! Meeting me, your winning streak ends here."

Zhao Guang smiled brightly.

Many people in the audience looked at Zhao Feng with schadenfreude.

Ranked fifth, this was the strongest opponent Zhao Feng had faced so far.

"Your strength is just barely at the quasi-martial artist level."

Zhao Feng said indifferently.

"Is that so? Then I'll see what else you have besides basic boxing techniques."

A cold glint flashed in Zhao Guang's eyes.

Swish!

As he spoke, he moved, appearing beside Zhao Feng.

His movements were like a ghost, and many in the audience were momentarily dazzled.

"Such speed!"

"Among the top five, Zhao Guang and Zhao Yufei have the best light body techniques."

Zhao Guang's speed was commendable.

Comparing speed?

A hint of mockery appeared at the corner of Zhao Feng's mouth.

Whoosh!

Zhao Guang's palm struck "Zhao Feng," but the target vanished before his eyes!

It was as if his palm had struck a vacuum.

Not good...

Zhao Guang realized something was wrong.

Whoosh!

A wave of shock rippled through the audience, with many Zhao clan disciples staring in disbelief.

The quick-witted ones focused on Zhao Guang's back.

Raging Dragon Fist!

Zhao Guang felt a powerful wind from behind, his heart racing.

Bang!

Zhao Guang instinctively countered, barely blocking Zhao Feng's "Raging Dragon Fist," feeling a surge of force like a raging tide.

Bang—

Zhao Guang staggered, being pushed back several meters, almost falling.

"What martial technique is he cultivating? His light body speed is even faster than mine!"

A wave of shock surged in Zhao Guang's heart.