Degrade from Nobility to a Humble Slave

Chapter 371 Mad-monster Hacking

"Hah, the Drizzle Peak disciples have been knocked out so soon! Thought they wouldn't have a chance to fight against us before getting eliminated. Their rotten luck! York, it's your turn now," Master Wang sneered.

York walked out from behind his master and stretched out to warm himself up. Keeping a fixed eye on Zen, he remarked to Master Wang, "Three moves. The boy will be beaten by me under three moves."

To York, Zen's strength of grade-two nature level was not even worth considering. It could never hold up to his own power. Zen had employed his stupendous innate strength moments ago, but how would that fare against York? No matter how much strength he had, his life vitality couldn't outmatch York's power and speed. 'Zen would be rash to try, ' York told himself conceitedly.

Overhearing the conversation between Master Wang and York, Master Wen rubbed his long face. He wanted to refute the claim but didn't know how to.

Previously, he had been somewhat confident about Zen and Yehudi, but the latter was defeated in the first round and had gotten himself injured. He couldn't join the next round, which frustrated Master Wen. The master could do nothing but endure York's taunt with some contempt.

This was how the warriors' world operated. Strength was respected, and the weak only had one of two roads to choose from: to endure or to die. Fortunately, this was Cloud Sect. In the world outside, the weak didn't have a chance to even endure.

"Three moves?" Zen raised his brows at that. His demeanor exuded tranquility, like he was impervious to all desires and passions.

But that didn't mean Zen would tolerate this. There were many powerful men in the world who deserved his tolerance, such as the head of the Cloud Sect, Kenneth, who was currently sitting on the

platform. But York wouldn't be one of them. Even if York was truly capable, he wasn't good enough to alarm Zen.

"Yes. Three moves would be enough for me to beat you. If there is no accident, I would only need two." York laughed with disdain.

"If you can't beat me in three moves, would you admit your defeat?" Zen asked him with a smile.

York snorted. "I know you are trying to provoke me. You want me to admit my loss if you counter my three moves? Fine. I concede. Three moves. If I can't beat you, I will admit my defeat!"

"All right! York, you are the number one inner disciple at Sea Peak. Remember, you are powerful enough to dominate anyone," Master Wang said to him. He wasn't worried about York's impulsive declaration, for he had evaluated York's strength to be close to the late stage of consummation. It would be easy for him to defeat a young disciple only at grade two of the nature level. As per his calculations, York could end the fight against Zen in one mere move, let alone three.

Zen curled his lip, not saying another word as he strode to the competition field.

The disciples of this round arrived one after the other. Soon, Zen was on the opposite side of York.

"Keep your eyes wide open. I want you to take notice as I defeat you with my three moves! Take out your weapon!" York announced as he took out a black-blue antique machete. He was a skilled swordsman, and his sword—a top-grade spiritual weapon—was named Murdering Chop. York got it by luck when he had been cultivating outside. It was his good luck charm.

The black-blue antique machete was his support, but his biggest strength was his understanding of the blade intent. He had honed his blade skills for ten years and finally managed to somewhat comprehend the intent. He wasn't very well-versed in it as of now, but he would master the machete intent someday!

The blade was a potent killing weapon, and the blade intent was fierce and overbearing. Although York knew only a little of it, it was enough to double his fighting capacity. He relied the most on this skill of his.

"Weapon? My fist is my weapon." Zen smiled at him casually.

There were many rounds in the All Peaks Competition and Zen was not confident about defeating some of the more powerful men. He didn't want to put the cards in his hand on display in this early fight.

Once he revealed his cards, his opponents would figure out a solution to his moves. The ones with more tricks up their sleeves would then find it easy to win.

"Doesn't matter what your weapon is. I will still beat you with three moves!" York laughed. "Wind breaking pole!" he roared out.

All of a sudden, York's black-blue antique machete turned into a heliciform cutter shadow which split into two pairs before breaking into four and then eight...

Zen stared at the cutter shadows, the expression on his face unreadable. There was potent momentum hidden in the cutter shadows which seemed capable of chopping everything surrounding them to pieces.

Of course, it merely 'seemed' capable of doing so. York looked to have comprehended a little bit of the blade intent, but Zen had mastered the sword intent to a small success. Moreover, York had cultivated his blade skills for ten years, but Zen had only been using the sword for less than a month, so there was a world of difference between their strength.

'This move cannot threaten me, ' Zen thought as he manifested the energy of the Phoenix Crystal on his arm and raised his speed by thirty percent.

There were still many rounds of the fight left, and the energy of the Phoenix Crystal was not limitless. And there was no need to make use of too much energy to avoid York's move. It would be enough to raise his speed by that fraction.

Zen shuttled through the cutter shadows like a flexible leopard. They couldn't touch an inch of him.

York furrowed his brows. Truth be told, Zen's speed was beyond his expectations, but when he saw Zen shuttle through the cutter shadows, he sneered. "You are courting death if you think you can escape my cutter shadows. Wind Spirit Gather!"

As York operated his life vitality, the cracking cutter shadows halted in the mid-air and floated around Zen.

The shadows further split into thirty-two pairs, for a total of sixty-four cutter shadows.

"Wind Spirit Gather. Gather-Kill!" York squeezed his fingers into a tight fist and the sixty-four cutter shadows abruptly diverted in their paths and rushed in Zen's direction to gather themselves.

If the sixty-four cutter shadows surrounded him, they would cut right through his body. York was already imagining how Zen would look by the time the cutter shadows were through with him: an utterly disabled man.

Crack!

However, York's day-dreaming was fruitless. Zen rushed to the front and smashed the cutter shadows before him with his fist, all in one go.

"Is his fist so tough?" York was dumbstruck. Was he hiding something in his fist? York surveyed Zen's fist from the distance, but found that there was nothing. Not even the life vitality was enclosed in his bare hands.

Most warriors practiced with weapons, but a few of them were also trained in fighting with their fists.

There was an obvious disadvantage of wielding power with one's fist. No matter how sturdy the warrior's corporeal body was, it couldn't be more resilient than a treasured weapon.

So when they cultivated at a later stage, it was advisable to cover the fist with their life vitality in order to defend themselves against a mysterious or spiritual weapon.

But York could spot no life vitality congealed in Zen's hands, which meant that Zen resisted the cutter shadows with his mere fist. For a second, York wondered if he had missed a trick.

He was unaware that Zen not only had hard fists, but also had a solid body similar to a middle-grade spiritual weapon with two spiritual textures. It had become so when he had cultivated in abnormal fires several times and absorbed their energy.

For too many times, Zen had made an escape when he was faced with a blade intent released by a powerful man of the Illuminating Soul Realm. It had been the case with James. However, now, when he came face-to-face with York's cutter shadows, he was able to stand his ground and would even allow them to cut him without injury.

But it could get too chaotic if Zen did that, so he chose to break York's cutter shadows with his fist instead.

"You've used up your two moves. This is your last chance," Zen said with a smile.

The power in his fists was obvious. The spectators present in the arena kept this attribute in mind.

The innate superhuman strength Zen had just shown did not particularly grab eye-balls. However, being able to break the cutter shadows to pieces with his fist alone attracted their attention. Most of the people who made a note of his power were the masters of the different peaks. If any disciples from

their own peaks competed with Zen in the next set of rounds, they could inform them to be heedful of the impregnable fists.

"Bravo, Zen!" Master Wen, who was watching the competition from the sidelines, suddenly cheered. He could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

From the moment he led the disciples from Drizzle Peak to this contest, he had been suffering. Now, he could finally hold his head high. At the same time, he didn't forget to remind Zen to be careful. "The third move is still left!

Zen, watch out!" This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

"Come on, Zen! Defeat York!"

"He is a coward! If he can't defeat you with the last move, he will lose!"

The disciples from Drizzle Peak kicked up a fuss at the opportunity.

Master Wang from Sea Peak wore a straight, gloomy face. He couldn't figure out how Zen had refined his fists, but after realizing the power in them, he knew that York would find it difficult to cope with Zen.

York narrowed his eyes. Earlier, he had looked down upon Zen and his abilities, but he wasn't anxious or impetuous by nature. As a swordsman, he could easily brush aside any negative emotions.

After some while, York raised his black-blue antique machete slowly as the decisive words flew out of his mouth.

"Mad-monster Hacking! Break it!"