Upon the signal of the starter gun, the two combatants begin their fight.

Elvis flexes and exposes his dark skin beneath his stripped away top, his timid expression gradually transforming into a mischievous smile. This ambiguous, dirty grin struck an unpleasant chill into the spectators observing from a large screen...where had they seen this smile before?

"Damn it, you dare to misbehave in front of me, Black Ghost." Seventeen curses under his breath, cracking his knuckles and swinging his iron-like fist toward Elvis's face with a forceful twist of his body.

"Bring it on."

Before the words had fully left his lips, Elvis lunges forward, full of momentum, blocking Seventeen's strikes with sturdy arm counters. Bang! Seventeen's hammer-like fist fiercely strikes Elvis's arm.

Elvis then leapt upward for a defense attack, a sideways soccer kick. A sharp snap echoed through the air for the second time as the two combatants exchanged blows, their sounds followed each other almost without intervals.

Seventeen spat out viciously, "Damn it, that kick really hurts."

Although Elvis looks composed on the surface, he was secretly gauging his opponent's strength. He'd exerted about 80 percent of his power on that soccer kick and yet, Seventeen's flailing arm swipe was no less powerful than his own flying kick. As far as strength goes, he was obviously at a disadvantage and needed to remain extra cautious.

As the saying goes, speed is the only invincible weapon in martial arts. Elvis decided to fight inertia with motion. Recharging his strength, he kicks out in a series of whiplashes toward Seventeen's face.

Seventeen did not appear to dodge at all, instead reaching out with his arm to grab.

The air hummed fiercely... Elvis quickly pulled back in the nick of time, all too aware of the threat posed by a heavyweight contender like Seventeen. If Elvis were to get grabbed, he'd be in serious trouble. Despite having learned about 60-70 percent of Feng Yi's basic combat techniques, he hadn't quite grasped the essence yet. His attacks, seemingly coordinated but far from perfect, could only bring forth 50 percent of their full power.

Seizing the opportunity when his opponent was off balance, Seventeen stepped forward without hesitation and used a powerful low kick to the abdomen... the empty air rustled with a chilling gust of wind, a kick that was almost too good to be true.

If he had been a tad slower, he lacked strength; if he had been a fraction of a second later, his opponent would dodge. The well-timed gap made it exceedingly difficult for Elvis to defend.

Startled, Elvis thought, if he were kicked now, wouldn't his bones be shattered? He steeled his resolve and seized the momentary opportunity, rotating his body and swinging his elbow directly toward Seventeen's face.

Seventeen too was shocked, realizing that the falling elbow strike could potentially split his head open. A dull thud echoed twice! Seventeen successfully defended himself, and as a result, his retaliative kick lost half its strength.

The strength meter clearly displayed the values on an outdoor projection in the square. Seventeen's kick measured at 1.2 Tons, enough force to dent a car, while Elvis only managed 474 kg of force. The two didn't belong in the same class when it came to bone density. The stark discrepancy left the spectators in the square sighing with awe...

This was utterly terrifying and explosively powerful. A soldier from St. Calina, indeed, he radiates a dominant aura, holding his ground like a one-man army.

If someone were to ask if Elvis was weak, the answer would be a categorical 'No.' His opponent was simply too strong. Even the elite soldiers introduced by Feng Yi paled in comparison to those of St. Calina in terms of strength and agility, demonstrating their inferiority. After all, with their meager background, making up for it with hard work would be a strenuous process, nothing that could be achieved overnight.

Seventeen took a step back, while Elvis was sent flying, although the former's loss of 50 percent of force didn't cause any substantial damage. However, a sense of pressure was palpably lingering in Elvis's legs.

Zi Mou looked worriedly at Feng Yi, "What are his chances of winning?"

"30 percent, or maybe less."

"Otherwise..."

Feng Yi understood what Zi Mou meant, "This is his fight, if you respect his choice."

Elvis dusted himself off, took a running start without hesitating, intending to start the fast-paced fight anew. As a warrior, he truly exhibited the spirit of a real man! The spectators rooting for Team Wind Thunder roared with loud cheers for his fighting spirit…

Boom boom boom boom!

Elvis redoubled his attacks from different angles, pressing Seventeen down with his swift footwork. Each change in position was followed by increased pressure. The continuous variation of his fists and palms, the snapping sound of his whiplash kicks were thunderous and non-stop, leaving the audience in awe…

For a moment, Seventeen was in utter confusion until Elvis found a slight crack in his defense. He threw a straight punch, his finger bones protruding as he targeted Seventeen's back.

However, the flaw was merely bait. Without looking, Seventeen reached back to grab.

Elvis's heart pounded, the counter-grab catching him off guard. Luckily, his move was fast enough, allowing him to suddenly retreat and create distance.

However, his move was quick, but Seventeen was quicker. Anticipating Elvis's move, he stepped forward hard, following the trajectory of Elvis's retreat. Using his body as a weapon, he launched a savage charge!

Before Elvis even landed from his leap, he felt a heavy blow to his chest. Unable to hold back, he spat out blood. His body was sent flying out of the ring like a kite with a broken string, as relief staff immediately rushed to the scene with a stretcher. The crowd erupted into cheers.

Slyly glancing at Team Wind Thunder, Amelia's gaze finally fell on the chief candidate. A touch of bitterness flickered across her eyes, quickly replaced by resignation. It seemed the first round of battle was over. This was the outcome she had anticipated.

Apophis shook his head, Saint Calina seemed too arrogant. He was determined to take care of Yingland and kill Cangmu Kuang Qi personally.

Elvis was approaching the level of a disciplinary committee member, yet he was still easily crushed by his opponent. The faces of the leaders of Wind Thunder looked pretty grim. It wasn't that they lacked confidence in Feng Yi, but...was the gap between them simply too wide to bridge? They'd seen Kuang Qi's strength and there were a few times when Feng Yi almost lost. That was kind of terrifying.

"Should I go on now?"

"Are you planning to go on now?" Zi Mou asked, looking puzzled.

Feng Yi nodded in affirmation. He didn't have a strong concept of time but he despised waiting.

"If the next one also can't handle it, then you're up." Zi Mou decided to send another member of the disciplinary committee to the stage next. After all, Elvis was likely no longer a threat to Seventeen, "Rebecca, you're up."

"Okay."

Rebecca's skin had an unreal, sickly pale tone. When this blonde beauty ascended to the stage, a ripple of whispers spread through the crowd...not because of her looks or fair complexion, but due to Wind Thunder's selection. The first three rounds were trial engagements, and now, sending a woman so soon to fight was suggestive of a depleted team. Was Wind Thunder really out of capable fighters?

Seventeen, too, didn't hold back his courtesy for a bit, his tone carrying some gentleness, "I never hit women, my lady. Are you sure you want to take me on? I suggest you change your candidate."

"Cut the crap, you might not hit women, but I, Rebecca, don't hit fat guys either. Step down."

Surprisingly, Wind Thunder might not be up to snuff in combat, but they certainly held their own when it came to verbal sparring. Just like a machine gun, her words flew out, enlivening the spirits of the crowd and putting Seventeen in an awkward position...

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