Chapter Seventy-Six: The Catastrophe of Body Eruption (1)

“What a cunning move!” Jiang Yuehai cursed inwardly, but his heart was alight with joy. In his eyes, such tactics were not merely impressive—they vented a long-held grievance within him. Hearing Jiang Feng’s triumphant roar, he felt a stir of emotion. “Xian’er, you’ve given me a fine grandson. But, alas, Feng’er, your grandfather is powerless for now and cannot clear your name. When I find evidence against Fang Yichen, I’ll make the Fang family bow at your feet.”

Xuan Xingzi’s heart ached bitterly, but he had nothing to say. In such matches, even death was part of the process, and he could have intervened to save Xue Qiming. Yet, his confidence in Xue Qiming had left him unguarded against Jiang Feng.

“Jiang Feng, you actually managed to wield the Ninefold Whirlpool to such a degree—this is absolutely impossible!” Amid the shock of the family heads, the one most incredulous was Fang Yichen, the most mysterious and cunning fox of the Fang family, always at Fang Chuhan’s side.

He had believed Xue Qiming’s victory was assured, never expecting Jiang Feng to be so formidable—surpassing all his predictions. The shattered aura of Xue Qiming transformed in the sky into a rain of blood, each drop a testament to Jiang Feng’s dominance and ferocity.

This astonishment was no small matter.

He had always thought Jiang Feng was merely a youth who had had some unusual encounters. After arriving at Wang Village, Jiang Feng had shown decent cultivation, but compared to Xue Qiming, he seemed immature. Fang Yichen had chosen him to search for the Blood Fiend Fruit, counting on his not-so-prominent status in the Jiang family and his fair abilities, so he’d always believed that even if Jiang Feng survived the Forest of Mystery, he had no promising future. At least, he would never shine in the Nine Rocks Tournament—his cultivation was only at the ninth stage of Nether Warrior!

But Jiang Feng defeated Xue Qiming in a flash, so quickly that even someone like Xuan Xingzi couldn’t react. It shattered all of Fang Yichen’s convictions.

This youth, once labeled as a waste, had now become a finalist in the Nine Rocks Tournament—how could he not be shaken to the core?

Bang!

At that moment, Fang Ping finally faced Jiang Feng. Both had endured many battles and emerged as standouts. Their clash was destined to be the most memorable moment in the Nine Rocks Tournament!

“Jiang Feng, this man’s aura is steeped in killing intent. He must have struggled at the edge of life and death for years to cultivate such power. You must be careful—if you can’t win, surrender. He won’t show mercy.” Just as Jiang Yuehai was basking in pride, he realized Fang Ping had already locked onto Jiang Feng, his face suddenly grave, startling Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng had perfected his twenty-five forms, wielding them with precision. He was confident that the myriad phenomena within the River Mountain Bottle could counter all kinds of nether arts and treasures, and trap opponents in endless illusions. Though his adversary was like a killing machine, their cultivation of nether arts could not extend their spirit beyond human limits. Jiang Feng was confident he could ensnare Fang Ping in the bottle’s illusions.

Moreover, his body was nourished by Ice Soul Essence, replenishing vitality and tempering his flesh, making his aura long-lasting and his body more resilient in combat.

“You possess several powerful nether arts, and your refined use of nether force is unmatched among youths. But I must warn you: do not rush against him. Stabilize your rhythm.” Jue analyzed for Jiang Feng, his eyes full of wisdom. “His pursuit is instant death. If you fight as he does, you’ll lose all advantage. You must drag the fight out—his reserves are not as deep as yours.”

Fang Ping’s eyes were hollow, yet the killing aura around him was intense. Within five paces, even stones and grass seemed to fly up. He glanced at Jiang Feng, and suddenly, milky-white nether force surged from his pores, jetting out like daggers, piercing the air!

“Not good!”

Jiang Feng was taken aback. He was discussing strategies with Jue in his mind, and was nearly caught off guard by the daggers formed from nether force. He struck out with several palms in midair, but all were pierced and shattered by the daggers. The force sent him flying several yards away. Though unharmed, his blood surged and his fighting spirit was shaken.

“This one is even fiercer than I imagined. Thankfully, you have Ice Soul Essence in your body—otherwise, those daggers would have riddled your flesh with holes!” Jiang Feng had been knocked back, but as he flew, his nether force condensed into armor—a sturdy, ancient-style armor inscribed with runes and circulating arrays, nether force flowing strongly.

This was the Xuantian Spirit Armor from the Xuantian Secret Arts!

“Too bad I haven’t mastered this nether art. I won’t be able to sustain it for long.” Jiang Feng’s tone carried regret. The Xuantian Secret Arts were vast, and he could not learn each style thoroughly. He knew the principles, but had little practical experience. Forced to use the Spirit Armor, he was pleasantly surprised by its effectiveness.

Hiss! Hiss! Hiss!

Fang Ping, seeing his first strike fail, frowned. He had already expended much of his nether force against Duan Xingyun, and could no longer push his speed beyond physical limits. Thus, he used his nether daggers, hoping for a swift kill, but Jiang Feng had skillfully countered them, angering him.

He did not linger; his figure twisted, conjuring hundreds of nether daggers that shredded the air in a chorus of shrill whistles. Some skimmed the ground, others shot skyward, all blasting into Jiang Feng.

The attack was even faster than Jiang Feng’s twenty-five forms!

“These nether daggers can’t break my Spirit Armor—too naive. Show me your true skills! I want to see what has kept you in the fight this long!” Jiang Feng mocked, annoyed that he hadn’t used the armor against Xue Qiming. Faint halos radiated from the Spirit Armor, triggered by Fang Ping’s daggers, but the armor remained unscathed, as did Jiang Feng within.

No sooner had they met than sparks flew, their battle of wits and strength thrilling the audience. Even those unfamiliar with nether arts were captivated by Fang Ping’s visual display, while Jiang Feng continued to surprise.

Whichever one became champion, the crowd would be satisfied. The spectators, indifferent to who died, shouted, “Kill him! Kill him!”

As for whom, they didn’t care.

“Fang Ping’s nether force is nearly spent.” After a long silence, Fang Chuhan finally spoke, his face anxious. He had waited for this moment, only to realize Fang Ping’s reserves were low.

Jiang Yuehai’s face softened to a rare smile. “Feng’er performed well—even if he loses, he brings glory to the Jiang family!”

“Hmph, that old doting fool—always ‘Feng’er, Feng’er.’ If Jiang Lei’s spirit could see this, he’d die of rage!” Fang Chuhan cursed inwardly, glancing worriedly at Fang Yichen, who remained inscrutable, as if everything was under control. Fang Chuhan brightened, whispering, “Yichen, does Fang Ping have a trump card?”

Fang Yichen chuckled softly. “Of course. I gave him a Longxiao Pill. After taking it, not only will his nether force recover, he’ll gain enough to surpass his current level. Then, Jiang Feng won’t survive.”

“I see.” Fang Chuhan’s face twisted into a sly grin.

“Feng’er, be careful—all the Fang family are cunning. Fang Ping surely has hidden moves.” Fang Chuhan’s smile caught Jiang Yuehai’s eye, filling him with concern.

In the entire Pine Pavilion, every gaze was fixed on Jiang Feng and Fang Ping.

Puff, puff!

A cold smile crossed Fang Ping’s lips. Suddenly, pale blue light flashed from him, and waves appeared out of nowhere. At the crest of these waves strode a sea god—azure from head to toe, scales glimmering, trident in hand, dragon horns prominent, boots stomping the surf.

In an instant, the battlefield transformed into a miniature ocean world.

Sea water surged from the sea god, forming water prisons that enveloped Jiang Feng, sealing him tightly.

“What is this?” Jiang Feng was aghast, and even Jue voiced his surprise. He never expected the speed-focused Fang Ping to wield such a grand nether art, and the sea god was clearly not a puppet, but a true conjuration.

“Amazing. No wonder this one lasted so long. I suspect your friend Duan Xingyun lost to him as well. Manifesting a sea god, standing atop the waves—such heroic power! In this tournament, he is truly outstanding!” Jue praised sincerely. Seeing Fang Ping conjure the sea god with nether force, forming a celestial avatar, he tapped his knee in admiration, his heart rising in vigilance.

He suddenly sensed that, given time, this youth would become a renowned master—not merely for his skill in nether arts, but for his ruthless, formidable nature.

“Jue, now’s not the time to praise the enemy! What are these water prisons?” Within the water prisons, Jiang Feng felt the vast, moist power. He guessed that if he moved recklessly, the prison would shrink, trapping him within the ocean world.

In battle experience, Jue claimed first place, none dared claim second. He never fought without certainty, nor suffered losses. Yet now, facing Fang Ping, he felt a twinge of defeat, speaking with caution: “That sea god is likely an avatar conjured from his nether force—a rare nether art. I’ve seen it once or twice. Usually, to counter such a spell, you must shatter the nether force avatar.”

Fang Ping’s instant-kill technique was renowned, but few knew of his sea god conjuration. Even Fang Yichen was surprised, muttering, “He had such a powerful nether art hidden? No wonder he’s ranked hundredth on the Ghost List.”

Yet the method to break the sea god technique was still unknown to those present.