Chapter Seventy-One: The Disciples of the Immortal Slayer Sect

“Stop right there, you trash!” The Minotaur, leaping onto the arena, shouted at G-3, who was about to step down, “How can you end it so quickly? Never mind the rules—I’ll kill you myself!”

“What a foolish brute,” sneered Dr. Barry, the leader of Team G, as he watched the Minotaur jump onto the stage. “He barely saved his life and doesn’t know how to cherish it—a true idiot.” Then, turning to G-3 about to descend and to G-1 and G-2 below, he commanded, “Go, my modified warriors! Deal with this reckless Minotaur for me!”

“Yes!” At their master’s order, the three modified warriors moved with robotic indifference, stepping onto the arena without expression. Seeing the Minotaur advancing toward them, G-1 and G-2 leapt to form a triangle with G-3, taking up positions at the three corners to surround the Minotaur, evidently planning a three-pronged attack.

Yet the Minotaur showed no fear at this encirclement; on the contrary, he seemed exhilarated. He threw his head back and let out a thunderous roar, stomping his right foot so hard that the entire arena trembled. The beautiful referee standing on the platform quickly jumped down in fright. Was this beast mad? Ignoring the rules, he challenged three members of the opposing team—did he have a death wish? Better to keep a safe distance, lest she be caught in the crossfire when the brute finally meets his end.

The three warriors seemed unwilling to clash with the Minotaur’s brute strength and did not rush to attack. Instead, they began to circle him, gradually increasing their speed to confuse the Minotaur’s single, large eye. As their movements accelerated, the three figures on the platform multiplied into six, twelve, twenty-four, then forty-eight, leaving streaks of blurred motion—afterimages caused by their rapid movement.

Watching the trio circle him, the Minotaur’s confidence gave way to impatience. His solitary eye, unable to keep up with their rhythm, reddened with strain. He spun about in place, trying desperately to track their movements. As their speed increased, blood vessels burst in his eye and drool trickled from his mouth; he looked utterly wretched.

Sensing a weakness, G-3 suddenly broke from the circle, leaping behind the Minotaur. He extended his right hand, which shimmered with an ethereal claw formed of spiritual energy—the ‘Falcon’s Talon’ he had cultivated. This mystical claw, forged from spiritual power, was capable of slicing through metal and stone; the deeper the mastery, the more powerful its grip. Only those with comparable spiritual strength or deep demonic power could perceive the invisible talon; ordinary eyes saw nothing.

G-3’s claw struck the Minotaur’s shoulder, tearing away a large chunk of muscle. Seeing G-3 attack, G-2 spun both arms, manifesting six spiritual rings around his forearms. These rings, compressed from spiritual energy, were razor-sharp; the deeper the compression, the sharper their edges. At their ultimate refinement, the rings could slice at the molecular level—capable of severing any material, even air or space itself, making them truly terrifying weapons.

With the rings spinning, G-2 swept his arms at the Minotaur’s shoulders. The six rings sliced through, severing both arms at the joints, breaking them into six segments midair before they crashed to the ground.

As the Minotaur was tormented by these two, the monsters in the audience grew excited. “Wow! Look! What’s going on? It’s like something invisible is tearing his arms off—so terrifying!”

“Yeah! The two from Team G didn’t even touch him, and the Minotaur’s body was cut apart. Is it magic? Incredible!”

“Quiet—look, the one with the braid is about to make his move!”

Seeing his teammates succeed, G-1 stopped circling and faced the Minotaur directly. He gripped his hands together, conjuring a faintly visible spiritual staff. With a downward swing, the Minotaur’s body split in two as if cleaved by a giant blade. The staff’s spiritual energy bisected him, ending the rampage of this insolent creature. Thus, the Minotaur, inheritor of a trace of Zhu Kun’s bloodline, died obscurely on the arena.

Like the mermaid before him, the Minotaur’s eyes remained wide open in death, unable to comprehend how he’d been so easily dismembered by the trio. It was no wonder—the spiritual staff, Falcon’s Talon, and Angel Rings wielded by Team G originated from a secret order in the human world, ominously named the Sect of Slaying Immortals.

Few in the human or demon realms had ever heard of this order, but Master Jinghai, now retired to the mountains, understood it well. Its mysterious martial arts lived up to the sect’s name; its disciples trained weapons of spiritual energy capable of killing immortals. Each disciple chose a weapon suited to their inner power, forging it through relentless compression until it could strike down even immortals. Their reclusion kept them hidden, but today, three appeared at the Dark Martial Arts Tournament. No wonder the Minotaur died unawares—he’d met disciples of the Sect of Slaying Immortals. Unable to see their weapons, he was dispatched effortlessly on the stage.

‘How astonishing—all three clearly used spiritual energy. I never expected other human fighters besides ourselves,’ thought the white shadow standing atop the circular arena, gazing at the modified warriors and Dr. Barry below. ‘They seem reluctant to fight; probably none of them battle by their own will. It appears they’re controlled by that Dr. Barry…’

Meanwhile, in a guest room at Fairy Hotel on Death Maiden Island, Summer Dan, sprawled on the bed, couldn’t help but ask the just-awakened Fan Fan, “Fan Fan, why didn’t you go see Qin Xiaochuan last night? Didn’t you come here to catch him and give him a good beating? Why didn’t you go?”

“…,” Fan Fan knelt on the luxurious bed, pondering Summer Dan’s question. After a moment, she looked up and said softly, “I don’t want to disturb him. If I saw him now, I’d urge him to give up. But wasn’t Qin Xiaochuan’s expression on the field wonderful?” Recalling yesterday’s scene in the arena, Fan Fan’s eyes softened. “It’s hard to imagine him smiling so brightly in the tournament. So I want to quietly watch him from behind.”

“…Fan Fan…”

Hearing this, Summer Dan fell silent. From Fan Fan’s gaze, she sensed the depth of her concern and passion for Qin Xiaochuan. Perhaps, as she said, supporting him from the shadows was better than meeting him face-to-face—waiting until he finally wins, being the woman behind him. Maybe that was best. Such a pure-hearted girl… But just as the two sat wordlessly on the bed, Su Su and Zhang Yang’s elder sister Jing Chu shuffled over in slippers.

“Aha, I heard everything, little Fan Fan,” Su Su said, carrying coffee to Fan Fan’s bedside, draping an arm over her shoulder with a mischievous grin. “Being the woman behind our Xiao Chuan, quietly supporting him—it’s so touching! Just like your aunt used to be, little Fan Fan, heh!” She reached out her fair hand, pinching Fan Fan’s now-blushing cheek with glee, clearly enjoying Fan Fan’s embarrassment. Like mother, like son—Fan Fan’s fate in meeting this family was uncertain indeed.

“Let’s continue celebrating, keep last night’s banquet going! Zhang Yang, that idiot, lost the first match—he’s brought shame to our Zhang family,” Jing Chu grumbled, throttling Summer Dan and pulling the girl into her arms, furious. “When I see that boy, I’ll teach him a lesson…”

“Achoo!!”

Zhang Yang kept rubbing his nose as Qin Xiaochuan asked with concern, “Are you alright, Zhang Yang? Did you catch a chill on the beach yesterday?”

“I’m fine,” Zhang Yang replied, dabbing his nose with a handkerchief. “It’s strange—I’ve been sneezing nonstop since yesterday. Somebody must be talking bad about me behind my back. Maybe it’s my sister, yeah, definitely her. Every time I sneeze like this, she scolds me. She must be furious after realizing I’ve been missing lately, probably cursing me at home!”