The air grew heavy as the crowd's cheering shook the grand arena. Dust and heat swirled across the battlefield, but no one dared to blink—every eye was fixed on the two figures below.

Xiao Rui's death stare locked with Zheng Han's shocked expression, the silence between them sharper than any blade. Slowly, Xiao Rui took a single step forward, his aura pressing down like a mountain.

Zheng Han exhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment. A twisted grin formed on his lips as he whispered, "Fine… if you still want to play…"

His eyes snapped open, green aura bursting around him like roaring wildfire. With a laugh, he roared, "Then bring it on!" and launched himself into the air.

He dove down, fist raised like a meteor crashing to earth. But just as the strike was about to land, Xiao Rui vanished.

The ground shattered with a deafening boom, dust and rock erupting upward as a crater formed under Zheng Han's fist. His eyes widened in disbelief—then pain exploded through his side. Xiao Rui had reappeared behind him, spinning into a vicious side kick that sent him flying across the arena.

Zheng Han flipped through the air and landed on his feet, barely holding his balance. His breath came heavy, his expression shaken.

High above, in the VIP room, Shaurya leaned back into his seat with Lin Shu at his side. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he sighed.

The system's window flickered before him.

Host… your speech was truly effective. Xiao Rui's status has changed—Golden Vein Stage, Level 2 to Level 4. But… ninety-six broken bones.

Shaurya's smile widened. That's great… he broke through two levels.

The system's cold voice replied, And what about the broken bones?

Shaurya chuckled in his heart. Don't worry. He still has a hundred and ten unbroken bones. He'll manage. After all… he's my disciple.

Back on the battlefield, Xiao Rui and Zheng Han circled one another like beasts preparing for the kill. Zheng Han raised his sword, emerald aura coiling around the blade as he shifted into a battle stance.

Xiao Rui's expression remained cold, unreadable. He lowered his gaze, running his hand along his blade, checking its edge with calm precision.

Zheng Han laughed mockingly. "What happened to your sharp tongue? Why so quiet now?"

He stepped forward. Xiao Rui only sighed.

With a blur, Zheng Han appeared in front of him, unleashing a vicious Diabolic Arc Slash. The blade howled through the air, but Xiao Rui's body swayed back, narrowly evading.

Zheng Han pressed on, thrusting his sword with murderous intent, only for Xiao Rui to sidestep with effortless precision. Slash after slash followed—horizontal, vertical, diagonal, thrusts from every direction—but Xiao Rui moved like a phantom. His cold eyes barely even flickered, his body weaving smoothly past every blow as if the attacks were beneath his notice.

The crowd gasped at his composure. Zheng Han's laughter turned into a roar of frustration. "Why dodge like a coward?! If you have courage, fight me directly!"

With a snarl, he thrust his sword forward.

At last, Xiao Rui's gaze shifted. His blade rose in a single upward stroke, parrying the thrust with clean precision. Sparks danced in the air. Zheng Han's eyes widened, stunned by the sudden counter.

Then Xiao Rui blurred forward, his sword arcing in a horizontal slash from the right. The blade bit deep into Zheng Han's abdomen. Blood sprayed into the air, scarlet droplets scattering like rain.

Zheng Han staggered, jaw dropping in shock. He gritted his teeth, spinning to counter, thrusting toward Xiao Rui's back. He turned his turned slowly and in a flicker of blue light, Xiao Rui vanished, leaving only shimmering trails of aura behind.

He was already behind him. Zheng Han's blade struck only empty air.

The audience gasped as a radiant blue slash tore across Zheng Han's weapon. With a sound like shattering glass, his sword split cleanly in two. His eyes widened in horror.

He barely landed and turned. Xiao Rui is already just inches away from him. Before agony struck—Xiao Rui's knee drove mercilessly into his abdomen, reopening the fresh wound. Blood exploded from his mouth. Before he could recover, a savage fist smashed into his nose, snapping his head back as blood sprayed like a fountain.

Zheng Han tumbled across the ground, coughing and choking, crimson painting the arena floor.

Slowly, he forced himself up, trembling.

Xiao Rui walked toward him step by step, cold and steady, his aura wrapping around him like an executioner's shadow.

Snarling, Zheng Han threw away his broken sword, crimson aura wrapping around his fists. "How dare you break my sword?! That blade was worth more than your life, you trash!"

He charged, screaming, his fist glowing with crimson energy. But before he could rush. Xiao Rui's body blurred once again, blue light streaking across the battlefield. In the blink of an eye, he appeared before Zheng Han and drove his fist into his abdomen a second time.

Zheng Han coughed blood violently, his body folding from the impact.

Before he could collapse, Xiao Rui grabbed him by the hair and unleashed a barrage of merciless punches to his abdomen. Fist after fist slammed into flesh and bone, the sound of cracking ribs echoing through the arena. Blood dripped freely, soaking the earth beneath them, painting the battlefield red.

Zheng Han's jaw hung open in pain, his vision blurring from the onslaught. Xiao Rui finally shoved him back, and Zheng Han collapsed to his knees, gasping, clutching his stomach as blood streamed between his fingers.

He clenched his fists, knuckles white with frustration. His head tilted up, rage boiling in his eyes—then horror struck as a flash of blue light crossed his vision.

Blood erupted.

Zheng Han screamed as his right arm was severed clean from his body, crashing to the dirt with a sickening thud. Blood gushed like a fountain, staining the ground crimson.

From the VIP stands, Liu Xiang's face twisted in rage. He conjured a crimson orb in his palm, rising from his throne with killing intent.

But before he could act, a crushing pressure slammed him to the ground.

Gasps rippled through the surrounding elders as they watched the sect master pinned in place.

Across the arena, Shaurya sat casually in his seat, his right hand raised, violet energy swirling around it. A faint smile curved his lips as he said, "Stay there. Unless you want to end up like your disciple."

He flicked his wrist, the pressure vanishing. Liu Xiang staggered to his knees, panting heavily, his fist slamming against the ground in fury.

On the battlefield, Zheng Han's laughter had long since faded. His body trembled, pale from blood loss, his smirk gone.

He screamed hoarsely, "You… Xiao Rui… no matter what, you are still my slave! Even if you defeat me… your family is dead! They won't come back. You loser!"

Xiao Rui's eyes turned colder than ice. His voice was calm, sharper than steel. "Pathetic."

He stepped forward, gaze piercing. "I know they won't return. But revenge… revenge will give me satisfaction. A personal satisfaction."

Zheng Han staggered back, fear flickering in his eyes. "If you torture me… what's the difference between us? Weren't you supposed to be a hero?!"

His voice shook as he tried to retreat, but with Lighting Sword Strike, Xiao Rui's dashed with lighting speed and Quick Draw his sword . With a blinding slash of thunder light, Zheng Han's left leg was severed. He collapsed face-first into the dirt, his scream echoing across the stadium.

The fight was no longer a duel—it was punishment.

Xiao Rui's cold voice cut through the arena. "At this point, I don't care. If revenge makes me a villain, then I'll gladly be one."

He thrust his sword into Zheng Han's remaining right leg and slashed down. Blood poured in viscous torrents. Zheng Han's wail turned ragged and broken. Xiao Rui paused at the newly severed stump.

"That's my boy!" Wang Tian laughed from the stands.

"Brother! Torture him for me too!" Xiao Lian screamed, tears streaming down her face.

Xiao Rui gave them a brief thumbs-up before resuming his merciless assault.

Tears streamed from Zheng Han's eyes. Xiao Rui stepped close, bent low until his voice was a rasp at the other man's ear.

"Cry more bastard. Just like this."

He slapped Zheng Han's face—once, twice, again and again—fists tasting flesh and bone. Blood splits from his mouth. Teeth broke out. Then He grabbed Zheng Han by the hair, slamming his face into the ground, the earth cracking.

He stands and drew back his right leg and drove a brutal kick into Zheng Han's forehead; the man flew backward, smacking into the stone in a spray of dust and blood. For an instant he lurched toward unconsciousness—but stubbornness kept him upright on the single leg he had left. With a desperate flurry he tried to crawl away.

Xiao Rui grabbed his scabbard with left hand, the sword hilt in right. He widened his stance; the air seemed to buckle around him. He inhaled deeply, muscles coiling.

Then he snapped open and exhaled, roaring as he unleashed:

"Quick Draw: Areial Slash."

He drew his sword in a blinding arc. The slash pierced the air—clean, decisive—and struck Zheng Han's remaining right leg. The blade cut through his leg, the arena floor was painted in a dark, living river. Both legs gone, Zheng Han sprawled, bleeding, rolling in his own ruin.

He slid with his remaining arm, desperate, trying to drag himself out of the ring. Hope flickered weakly in his eyes as he neared the edge.

Xiao Rui used aerial steps—flicking across the air like a blue comet—and arrived at his side.

Xiao Rui's voice cut through the silence like a blade: "Where are you going?"

Zheng Han lifted his head, the single word of supplication on his lips shredding into a broken plea: "Let me go. Xiao Rui. I beg you. Let me go."

Xiao Rui stepped into his path and blocked the escape, then raised the blade in a final downward cut—this time removing the last remaining hand. Zheng Han howled, a sound that defied the arena's roaring crowd.

Xiao Rui stretched his legs casually, cracking his knuckles. "Whoa.... After streaching my legs and hands. I feel great. How about you."

He lifted Zheng Han by the hair and drove his sword through his belly. Blood spurted violently as he pulled it free, tossing him aside like a rag doll.

With his spiritual energy, Xiao Rui summoned the broken fragment of Zheng Han's own sword. He said coldly. "Let's just finish this."

The shard hovered for a moment, then shot forward—not at Zheng Han's neck, but lower.

The blade pierced clean through Zheng Han's groin.

The entire arena went silent. Even the crowd winced as his scream that erupted from him seemed to rip the sky in two. Even the most raucous cheers were silenced by the raw inhuman pain.

Xiao Rui exhaled, shaking his head. "I wasn't talking about finishing you… I was talking about your generation."

Zheng Han's face was pale with agony, tears streaking his cheeks.

Xiao Rui stretched his neck and, voice icy as winter, added.

"I want to torture you more. But I am satisfied and if you died. Then it will be a problem to me."

He step forward and bends infront of him. Then he grips his hair and slammed his skull against the earth, leaving blood stains on the cracked ground.

Finally, Xiao Rui stands and stomped on his head, forcing a muffled scream before pulling him back up.

He grabs him from neck and stand. With one smooth strike, he severed Zheng Han's vocal cords. His scream died instantly, his mouth opening soundlessly.

"Good," Xiao Rui muttered. "Now no one has to hear your garbage voice."

Then, as if remembering something, Xiao Rui tossed Zheng Han into the air, and mid-flight, he slashed—two spiritual blades flashed and Zheng Han's ears flew away. He almost fell out of the ring. Xiao Rui reached out, caught him by the hair. He carried him to the arena's edge, smiling faintly.

"Don't worry—I won't throw you out. What if you get hurt?"

He gently placed him outside the boundary. "You should thank me… oh, wait. You can't speak. Or hear."

With that, Xiao Rui turned away, his cold expression unchanging.

Above, the referee floting around King Tian Long Room trembling, swallowing hard. His thoughts churned. Is everyone in Sanatan flame sect are this much Terrifying? I have to ask if there is any announcer vacancy in their sect.

He coughed, straightening his voice, and shouted, "The battle is over! What a heart-shaking, breathtaking match! Xiao Rui of the Sanatan Flame Sect wins Round One! The Sanatan Flame Sect leads one to zero!"

The crowd erupted in deafening cheers, their fear drowned by the sect's overwhelming presence.

Xiao Rui staggered back to his sect's VIP room, his pupils fading from blue back to black. The moment he crossed the threshold, his body gave out, collapsing.

But Wang Tian and Luo Chen caught him before he hit the ground.

"Brother, are you okay?!" Xiao Lian cried out, panic in her eyes.

Xiao Rui drew a deep breath, then slowly smiled. His bright, warm smile finally returned as he whispered, "Yeah… I'm more than fine."

Elder Wan stepped forward, handing him a glowing blue pill. "Here, take this."

Xiao Rui swallowed it, his energy slowly recovering, his major wounds beginning to close.

Shaurya laughed from his throne. "Xiao Rui, oh Xiao Rui… you're going to need a long rest after this."

The sect burst into laughter with him, cheers echoing through the stadium.

Xiao Rui leaned back, his thoughts drifting to the past.

Father, Mother, Uncle, everyone… I've finally taken revenge. Soon… I'll erase the entire Zheng family. And take your revenge.

The roar of the crowd and the echo of laughter filled the air, as the chapter of vengeance closed.

To be continued…

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.