Quicksand Breaks Brute Force

The elders of both sects felt their hearts pound with uncertainty upon hearing this.

In particular, the elders of the Myriad Transformations Sect were wary. Aside from being Yang Lingshu's companion cultivator, Lü Fangxuan had never shown any remarkable qualities during his time in the Inner Sect.

But there was no better choice available. To admit defeat and concede now would be an even greater loss of face.

Mo Xian pondered for a moment, then ordered Lü Fangxuan to take the stage.

He understood Yang Lingshu and knew this disciple was not one to make empty claims.

Since he had predicted a forty percent chance of victory, it likely held merit.

The messenger cultivator relayed the order to Lü Fangxuan, who glanced toward Yang Lingrui.

"Second Young Master, the Young Master is calling me to the stage."

"Mm. Go."

Yang Lingrui nodded.

If it were Zhao Qi or the others, he would have likely added, "Do your best, but do not force it."

But Lü Fangxuan was Lingshu's companion cultivator; if Lingshu had summoned him, he must have already calculated the risks.

Under the gaze of the crowd, Lü Fangxuan leaped onto the Dao Discussion Platform: "Myriad Transformations Sect, Lü Fangxuan, Qi Gathering Third Layer, accepting the challenge!"

Pang Yong looked him over, a peculiar expression crossing his face.

This youth's aura was even weaker than that of Pan Qi. Was he simply coming up to beg for a beating?

"Forget it. They are all just trash anyway; it makes no difference who comes up!"

As the two supervising cultivators announced the start, Pang Yong burst forward, his hand snapping out in a punch aimed at Lü Fangxuan's ribs.

This feint-to-the-east, strike-to-the-west technique was remarkably effective against disciples from smaller sects who lacked practical experience.

Pan Qi had been caught off guard by that very move, forced into a scramble, and subsequently dragged into the rhythm of Pang Yong's onslaught. Had Pan Qi remained calm enough to respond properly, he would not have fallen so quickly.

"Get down!"

The feint landed, and a hidden whip kick, already poised to strike, surged forward.

However, to Pang Yong's surprise, the youth before him was not intimidated by his fierce momentum. Instead, Lü Fangxuan calmly activated his technique, summoning a layer of sand to coat his right arm and intercept the trajectory of the strike.

"Hmph! You guessed right-so what!"

Pang Yong abruptly shifted his weight, turning his feint into a true, heavy blow, intending to crush the defense.

But in the next instant, he was stunned to see that the moment he committed to the attack, Lü Fangxuan simultaneously responded by summoning a sheet of quicksand to blanket his entire left side.

"This..."

His intent had been completely anticipated, igniting his anger. "Block? Can you even hold me back?!"

As his mind raced, his right arm shimmered with moonlight, swelling instantly in size.

This was merely an effect of the Moonfall amplification-it was not a sign that he had reached a higher level of the art, and it was far inferior to the true body enlargement Yang Linghu had once mastered.

Having entered the Dao through martial arts, Pang Yong was arrogant and detested dragging out a fight. He craved the pleasure of overwhelming force, favoring swift, crushing victories. He held nothing back, pouring his full strength into the strike.

In his mind, even if Lü Fangxuan blocked this blow, he would be sent flying several zhang. From there, he would simply press the attack until he knocked the boy off the platform just as he had with Pan Qi.

However, his expectation shattered the moment his fist made contact.

"No! The touch is all wrong!"

Lü Fangxuan's defensive technique was not the rigid earth he had expected; it was soft, fine, and fragmented.

In an instant, he knew his strike had missed its mark.

"Fine skill, Fellow Daoist."

Lü Fangxuan's expression remained placid. As he spoke, Pang Yong realized with alarm that the sand, having collapsed under his blow, had already clung to his arm and was creeping rapidly up his body.

"Damn it!"

He tried to shake it off, but the faster he moved, the faster the sand climbed. He tried to re-condense his spiritual power to break it with raw force, but every punch felt as though he were striking cotton. He could not exert a shred of power.

On the high platforms, the surrounding cultivators wore expressions of genuine surprise.

The elder from the Moon-Grasping Sect looked astonished. He had not expected the Myriad Transformations Sect to possess anyone capable of contending with Pang Yong.

According to his intelligence, no such talent existed among the new recruits of the Myriad Transformations Sect or Daoyuan Mountain.

Meanwhile, the elders from the Myriad Transformations and Daoyuan Mountain sides were beaming with joy. They had no idea Lü Fangxuan had secretly refined his technique to the Fourth Layer!

When Five Elements techniques reach the mid-stage, they begin to manifest unique forms and properties. Earth-path arts were generally synonymous with heaviness, but their utility was not limited to solidity.

Lü Fangxuan was utilizing the fluid, yielding nature of quicksand to neutralize his opponent's force, using Pang Yong's own momentum to swallow his strikes.

"Now, there is a sixty percent chance of victory."

Yang Lingshu mused to himself. Having watched Pang Yong fight Pan Qi, he had already gauged the man's temperament and combat style. Based on that inference, he knew Lü Fangxuan had a chance.

Lü Fangxuan would hide his Fourth Layer technique from others, but he would never keep such things from his Young Master.

On the arena floor, Pang Yong's limbs were fully coated in quicksand. His speed and offensive power were severely hampered, and he had no way to break the seal. The frustration of having immense strength but nowhere to apply it left him increasingly frantic.

Conversely, Lü Fangxuan remained terrifyingly composed. This contrast bred fear in Pang Yong; for a martial cultivator, losing one's momentum was fatal.

After a quarter-hour of struggling, Pang Yong collapsed to his knees, exhausted. With his entire body-save for his face-submerged in sand, he was rendered immobile.

"I... I concede."

Though he was deeply unwilling, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and submit.

"Hah... hah..."

Only after hearing the concession did Lü Fangxuan drop his mask of calm, gasping for air. Sustaining a Fourth Layer technique with a Third Layer cultivation was a severe burden. Had Pang Yong held on for three more breaths, Lü Fangxuan would have likely collapsed.

But that is the nature of the Dao. A hair's breadth of difference creates a vast gulf of results. If Pang Yong had probed instead of going all out, the outcome would have been different.

The difference in their mental fortitude was the deciding factor. From the start, the match was already settled.

"Second match, Myriad Transformations Sect's Lü Fangxuan, wins!"

"Excellent!!"

"Well done, Junior Brother Lü!"

Cheers erupted from the Zhuhu Wangchao side. Lü Fangxuan caught his breath, stood straight, and bowed toward Yang Lingshu. As the two Condensed Origin elders arrived to help him recover, he prepared to issue his next challenge.

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