Chapter 17: Winning Without the Treasure

The disciples from various peaks whispered among themselves, casting wary glances at the divine weapon in Zhao Changsheng’s hand. Even the peak masters on the stage—usually unshaken and composed in the face of calamity—now showed subtle signs of shock and astonishment.

The Spirit Sword Peak Master abruptly stood with a sharp “whoosh,” his hands gripping the armrests tightly as his gaze locked fiercely on the long sword in Zhao Changsheng’s hand, disbelief etched across his face. “This… this is impossible! How could a mere disciple from the Tongtian Peak wield such a transcendent divine weapon?”

The Bright Moon Peak Master let the round fan in her hand fall to the ground with a soft “clap,” remaining rooted on the spot, murmuring softly, “Ye Xinghe… what trick has he used? Could it be that he feigned weakness earlier, hiding such a lethal move all along?”

Zhou Tong stood frozen, staring at his broken mountain-cleaving axe in his hands, as if suddenly plunged into an ice cellar, his entire body chilled.

He could never have imagined that the very axe that had earned him fame and served as his guaranteed victory tool would prove so fragile.

Before he could recover from his shock, Zhao Changsheng gave him no chance to catch his breath. Seizing the moment of Zhou Tong’s distraction, he struck again.

The sword in Zhao Changsheng’s hand trembled, emitting a cry like a dragon’s roar. Several sword energies shot forth in a fan-shaped spread, enveloping Zhou Tong and cutting off all his retreat paths with interlacing sword qi.

Panicked and stunned, Zhou Tong could only rely on instinct, hastily retreating while wildly swinging the broken axe with both hands in a desperate attempt to block the attacks.

But without the full power of his treasured weapon, his defense was feeble. His clothes were instantly slashed in several places by the sword qi, and fresh scratches appeared on his skin.

Zhou Tong was pushed back step by step by Zhao Changsheng’s sudden and ruthless assault. His broken axe was utterly inadequate to fend off the relentless sword energies pouring down like a violent storm.

His face turned pale, large beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His feet scrambled nervously, stumbling backward across the stage, nearly toppling over.

A cold glint flashed in Zhao Changsheng’s eyes. Seizing Zhou Tong’s unstable stance, he stamped his foot hard on the ground, launching himself forward like a hunting leopard.

In an instant, he leapt several meters, closing the distance to Zhou Tong in the blink of an eye.

Zhou Tong’s eyes widened in shock, unable to mount any effective defense, as Zhao Changsheng’s flying kick, infused with majestic spiritual power, crashed heavily into his chest.

“Bang!” The dull sound resembled a boulder striking a surface. Zhou Tong’s chest caved inward, and a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out.

His body uncontrollably flew backward like a kite with a broken string, soaring past the edge of the stage and heading toward the area below.

The crowd gasped in alarm, instinctively scattering to the sides to clear a space.

With a heavy “thud,” Zhou Tong crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust before rolling over several times to steady himself.

He gasped harshly, blood trickling endlessly from the corner of his mouth. Clutching his chest with both hands, pain contorted his face as he tried to struggle to his feet, but his legs wobbled and failed repeatedly.

For a moment, the entire arena fell deathly silent, the spectators stunned by the dramatic scene before them.

Then, a thunderous roar of cheers and shouts erupted first from the Tongtian Peak faction.

“Zhao Changsheng! Well done!”

“Truly worthy of Tongtian Peak, that kick was so satisfying!”

Ximen Feixue’s face flushed with excitement as he raised his arms and shouted hoarsely.

Ye Xinghe also showed a pleased expression, nodding slightly, eyes filled with approval.

In stark contrast, the disciples of the Divine Medicine Peak wore ashen faces, disbelief etched deeply.

They had been so certain of Zhou Tong’s victory, but now stood dumbfounded as if struck by lightning, helpless and stupefied.

The Divine Medicine Peak Master’s expression darkened ominously as he glared fixedly at the triumphant Zhao Changsheng on stage, his heart burning with rage.

He could never have imagined that his carefully nurtured, weapon-wielding favorite disciple would be so easily defeated by a Tongtian Peak disciple, ending in such a humiliating manner.

The Spirit Sword Peak Master frowned deeply, returning to his seat with a cold snort. “Hmph, that victory was merely a fluke, relying solely on that divine weapon. What is there to be proud of?”

Though his words were dismissive, his eyes betrayed a hint of fear and unease.

The Bright Moon Peak Master slowly bent down to retrieve her fallen fan, lightly shaking it to mask the trace of alarm in her eyes, restoring her usual composed demeanor as she softly said, “Exactly. Without that divine weapon, Zhao Changsheng is nothing more than an ordinary man.”

Zhao Changsheng stood proudly on the arena, clutching his divine weapon, his gaze sweeping across the crowd before settling on the disheveled Zhou Tong below. His voice rang out clearly: “Zhou Tong, when skill is lacking, one should concede defeat. Do not underestimate Tongtian Peak. Remember this lesson well.”

Despite his words, Zhao Changsheng’s kick had displayed the might of Tongtian Peak, instantly shifting the arena’s atmosphere. Those who had been jeering and mocking Tongtian Peak’s defeat now fell silent.

The disciples from the various peaks exchanged glances, their eyes filled with newfound respect and caution.

The peak masters, too, wore diverse expressions as they whispered among themselves, no one daring to belittle Tongtian Peak any longer.

Yet, this heavy silence did not last long. Deep down, several peak masters remained dissatisfied and soon found reasons to reignite the dispute.

The Spirit Sword Peak Master was the first to break the silence with a cold snort. “Though Zhao Changsheng won this round, any clear-eyed person can see it was all thanks to that divine weapon! As for his own strength, how much does he really possess?”

His tone dripped with envy, implying that Zhao Changsheng had merely stumbled into a lucky advantage.

The Divine Medicine Peak Master’s face darkened as well, his anger barely suppressed. Hearing the Spirit Sword Peak Master’s remarks, he joined in: “Exactly! Our Zhou Tong is powerful, trains diligently, and is aided by many potent elixirs. If not for that overwhelming weapon, how could he have lost so easily? Zhao Changsheng merely borrowed outside power to bluff his way through.”

Ye Xinghe sneered, suddenly standing and sweeping his robe sleeve. His aura surged dramatically as he fixed a burning gaze on the few noisy peak masters and declared loudly, “Since you all insist Zhao Changsheng’s victory depended on that divine weapon, then so be it. In the next match, he will take the stage without that weapon, so you can be truly convinced of the real skill of Tongtian Peak’s disciples!”

His words caused a stir throughout the arena.

The disciples of every peak exchanged astonished looks, eyes wide in disbelief.

Had he lost his mind?

Who ever competed without their divine weapons?

Wasn’t this just setting himself up to be slaughtered?

“Has Ye Xinghe gone mad? To voluntarily forgo the advantage of the divine weapon—Zhao Changsheng is bound to suffer a major defeat this time.”

“Exactly. Although Zhao Changsheng performed well just now, without that transcendent weapon, against the stronger opponents ahead, what chance does he really have? Ye Xinghe is being far too arrogant.”

The Spirit Sword Peak Master was momentarily stunned, then threw his head back and laughed loudly, pride brimming in his voice. “Ha ha ha ha! Ye Xinghe, you said it yourself. Don’t back out later! I want to see how much your precious disciple can really do without his divine weapon.”