Chapter Fifty-Nine: Still Lost

Seeing Zhang Yang hurtling toward him, Ling Ju let out a sly chuckle. He already knew what Zhang Yang was planning from the way Zhang Yang bounced off the ground toward him after landing. "Using the Spirit Sword's rebound to launch a sneak attack, huh? Not a bad idea!" Ling Ju held the Demon Ball tightly in his hands. "But I still have my Demon Ball ready. Before you can even touch my body, you'll be utterly defeated by it. Prepare to die!" With that, Ling Ju hurled the Demon Ball at the incoming Zhang Yang. At this distance, Zhang Yang would be struck within five meters of Ling Ju, making him nothing more than a defenseless moving target.

As Zhang Yang flew toward Ling Ju and saw the Demon Ball coming at him, his eyes burned with wildness—a look he once wore when battling Si Kong Lang. When pushed to the brink, Zhang Yang, like Qin Xiaochuan, would unleash incredible spiritual power from within. This time was no exception. Seeing the Demon Ball approach, Zhang Yang let out a fierce shout. A Spirit Sword shot from his hand, but unlike before, it did not fly straight; it twisted and stretched like a serpent, winding around the Demon Ball's trajectory, aiming directly for Ling Ju's body. It was clear Zhang Yang intended, just as with Si Kong Lang, to use a mutually destructive tactic.

"Jump back, Ling Ju!" Yan, captain of the Six Wanderers Monster Team, shouted from the stands upon seeing Zhang Yang's Spirit Sword. He knew that at this rate, even if Ling Ju's Demon Ball struck Zhang Yang, Zhang Yang's Spirit Sword would also hit Ling Ju. As captain, Yan had no intention of losing a key teammate in the very first match—his goal was to defeat Si Kong Lang, champion of last year's tournament.

Hearing Yan's warning from below, Ling Ju didn't waste a second and leaped backward. However, the Spirit Sword's extension was so fast that it pierced Ling Ju's body just as he jumped.

"How... can this be?"

He glanced at the Spirit Sword impaled through his abdomen, staggered backward, eyes wide in disbelief. He had underestimated Zhang Yang, never expecting him to unleash such a bizarre and swift Spirit Sword—he hadn't even the chance to dodge.

"Heh, serves you right!"

Watching Ling Ju being pierced and thrown out of the ring, Zhang Yang grinned. Yet at that moment, Ling Ju's Demon Ball struck as well, hurling Zhang Yang out of bounds. Both were hit by the other's ultimate move and collapsed outside the arena. It seemed Zhang Yang had planned from the start to take Ling Ju down with him through this sacrificial strategy.

"What a truly astonishing match!" exclaimed the commentator Ling Ling, rushing to the edge of the ring, her voice trembling with excitement as she looked at the fallen Zhang Yang and Ling Ju. "Zhang Yang unleashed a snake-like Spirit Sword, knocking Ling Ju from the arena, but was himself struck down by Ling Ju's Demon Ball. Is this a draw? Let me begin the countdown—whichever contestant stands on the arena first during the count will win this round. Here we go... One... Two... Three..."

The monsters in the audience erupted into chaos as they watched both fighters lying below the ring. "Ling Ju, get up! I bet big on your win—get up!"

"Get up, Ling Ju! If you lose, I'll never forgive you. Get up, get up!"

"Come on, Ling Ju! Stand up!"

"Stand up, Ling Ju! I believe in you—stand up!"

"Rise, Ling Ju! Rise!"

...

To heighten the spectacle, the organizers of the Dark Tournament had set up a gambling den outside the arena, allowing bets on favored team members. Odds ranged from one-to-one to one-to-one-thousand, calculated by computer based on contestants' abilities, making it an exhilarating experience. Ling Ju's odds were one to 1.5—not high, but for the monsters, betting on a fellow monster felt far safer than wagering on a human. Thus, those who had placed bets were far more frantic than other spectators. Many monsters had staked their entire fortunes on this first match; if Ling Ju lost, they'd be ruined.

Hearing the crowd's shouts, Ling Ju was the first to regain consciousness. Crawling to the edge of the ring, he slowly hauled himself onto the arena. Clearly, Zhang Yang's Spirit Sword had inflicted serious damage—Ling Ju lacked even the strength to stand. Once atop the ring, Ling Ju examined the wound in his abdomen with a grimace. Spirit-infused injuries were particularly troublesome: spiritual energy was the bane of demonic energy, and with such a large wound, if not treated quickly, the demonic energy throughout his body would be blocked by the spirit-infused injury. Without the nourishment of demonic power, his abdomen would slowly rot, leading to a painful death. So, the first thing Ling Ju did upon climbing the ring was to press his hands to the wound and begin healing with demonic energy.

"...Five... Six..."

Hearing the referee's count, Zhang Yang let out a shout and forced himself to stand. If he stayed down for more than ten seconds, he'd lose. As a general, he could not accept losing his first appearance to some brat, even in death. So, upon hearing the count reach six, he leaped up and walked toward the arena.

"What?!" Seeing Zhang Yang rise across from him, Ling Ju grimaced. He never wanted to fight such a troublesome opponent again. His powerful Demon Ball had failed to defeat Zhang Yang and he'd been stabbed by Zhang Yang's Spirit Sword. What kind of human was this? He'd never met anyone like him before. Ling Ju noticed his Demon Ball still entwined around Zhang Yang, and summoned what little demonic energy remained to control the ball and bind Zhang Yang tightly.

Blocked by the Demon Ball, Zhang Yang's legs were tangled in its fine threads, causing him to stumble and fall.

"...Ten! Match over—Ling Ju wins!"

"What!" Hearing the referee declare the match, Zhang Yang sprang up again. "Impossible! I can still fight! Kid, you wait for me—after the match, meet me in the restroom!"

"Who'd want to go to the restroom!" Ling Ju's hair stood on end at Zhang Yang's words. This guy was completely insane—after being beaten like this, he still had the energy to shout. Encountering someone like him was just bad luck; if they really fought in the restroom, he might actually lose.

"Sigh, Zhang Yang was far too careless," Bai Ying said, jumping onto the ring as he glanced at the scoreboard showing the loss. "I'll take the second match."

As Bai Ying stepped onto the arena, a member from the Six Wanderers Monster Team emerged to face him. The man wore a cold smirk, chewing gum, clearly unimpressed by Bai Ying's strength. Hearing the referee call the contestants to the ring, he spat out his gum, hopped lightly onto the arena, and stared coldly at Bai Ying, as if he knew him well.

"Alright, the Six Wanderers Monster Team has sent out Blade Scythe..."

"Bai Ying!"

Hearing Fei Yan call him, Bai Ying turned to look.

"Don't hold back this time," Fei Yan said, locking eyes with Bai Ying. "Hit him so hard he never dares to face you with a scythe again, understand?"

Bai Ying nodded and strode to the center of the ring. It seemed he and Blade Scythe knew each other and had crossed paths before.

"By the way, Fei Yan," Zhang Yang said, turning to Fei Yan beside him as he watched Bai Ying on the ring, "I've been training with Bai Ying all this time but never figured out where he keeps his Rose Whip. Does he always carry such a weapon hidden on him? Incredible!"

Fei Yan glanced at Zhang Yang, then looked back to Bai Ying. "Bai Ying's demonic energy can infuse any plant and turn it into a weapon—even weeds by the roadside can become as sharp as daggers in his hands."

"I see!"

"Alright, both contestants are ready," commentator Ling Ling announced, seeing Bai Ying and Blade Scythe standing on opposite sides. "Match two: Bai Ying versus Blade Scythe. The match officially begins." With that, Ling Ling waved her hand and jumped to a safe distance. At the Dark Martial Arts Tournament, it wasn't unheard of for commentators to be accidentally killed by contestants' demonic energy during matches. Once the semifinals or finals began, contestants' powers grew truly terrifying. For commentators, the arena's edge was a good safety spot. As soon as a match began, they would leap to the arena's edge, and if things got too intense, ducking behind the ring for cover was often a lifesaving tactic. So, as Ling Ling announced the start, she hopped to the edge to observe, ready to comment on any fierce exchanges.

"Life among humans suits you, Bai Ying," Blade Scythe said with a cold smirk as the match began, not rushing to attack. "Hard as it is to believe, you care a lot about those around you, don't you?"

...

Bai Ying didn't respond, so Blade Scythe raised his right hand. A sharp scythe slowly extended from his right middle finger—it seemed this guy could transform his bones into weapons. Among monsters, there were many such oddities who could turn their bodies into weaponry. For example, Si Kong Lang's older brother, Si Kong Ming, could transform his body into any weapon, though someone else had to wield him. His younger brother was the perfect partner for this. After transforming his bone into a scythe, Blade Scythe licked the blade with his tongue and lunged at Bai Ying. "If you die, it'll be truly tragic!" With a swing of his bone scythe, he slashed horizontally at Bai Ying.