Martial Arts Master Chapter 545

Translator: Larbre Studio  Editor: Larbre Studio

“Round Two, Fang Zhirong wins!”

Fang Zhirong stood blankly after hearing the referee's announcement. As he watched Lou Cheng go off, a rush of Qi and blood coursed through him. Angry and humiliated, he clenched his fists so hard that they made a popping sound.

“He's not just minorly wounded. The last two hits should have been Internal Explosion Punches…” mused Liu Chang in the commentary box, both expressing his awe and hoping for affirmation.

However, he didn't get the response he was hoping for. In fact, he didn't get anything— no affirmation or refutation. It was eerily quiet beside him.

What's going on? Liu Chang turned to look at his partner. He Xiaowei looked distraught— a vacant expression, murmuring lips, and face turning red and green in turn.

Hmm? What has Fang Zhirong's injury got to do with you? Why the long face? Liu Chang felt puzzled.

Then it hit him. He instantly knew what was going on after remembering something from before.

He Xiaowei had solemnly sworn to shave all his hair if Didu gets champion!

After taking two Internal Explosion Punches from a weakened Inhuman, Fang Zhirong's wounds wouldn't heal in a mere matter of days. When he fights Didu, it would be impressive for him to even perform at half his full strength!

Seems like your calculated jinxing is even stronger than your whimsical ones!

Liu Chang gave He Xiaowei's head a once over. He barely stifled a laugh by pursing his lips, but couldn't stop his neck and cheeks from gently trembling.

Now I have something to look forward to…

I wonder how the bald look would suit him…

“Pfft…Hahahaha!”

Returning to the guest seats, Lou Cheng saw a blank look lingering on everyone's faces. He let out a laugh.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

We may not be expecting to win the match, but don't take your own sweet time here!

Mouth twitching, Cai Zongming reprimanded,

“Dude! Spare some thought for the rest of us!”

“What are you talking about?” Lou Cheng asked, puzzled.

“Losing is one thing, but why must you go ahead and laugh at him?” Xiao Ming complained, pointing woefully at Fang Zhirong on the arena. “Look at the bloke! He's madder than a hornet! And now he's going to take it out on Xiao Yang and me! We are gonna get maimed!”

Even with his abilities weakened from severe injuries, Fang Zhirong wasn't an opponent a top-tier Ninth Pin could handle!

It dawned on Lou Cheng. Solemnly reaching out with his hand, he patted Talker on the shoulder, and comforted him,

“Don't worry! The referee's there if anything goes wrong!”

… Cai Zongming laughed in anger. “Yeah, thanks for nothing!”

Now he's made him even more nervous!

Deng Yang fist-bumped Lou Cheng and the others one by one, with an expression that disregarded death, before marching towards the arena with his head held high.

Lou Cheng watched as he went off. He then took back his phone to share his joy and gratification with Yan Zheke.

Deng Yang went up the stone steps, coming face to face with Fang Zhirong, who had diminished the effects of his internal injuries by using Force Concentration a few times. Presently, his face was dark with anger, with latent rage residing in his black pupils.

Deng Yang immediately shuddered, as though he was being watched by a venomous snake, or had his forehead locked on to by the laser-sight of a sniper.

Is this the intimidating aura of a Sixth Pin Dan Stage? Deng Yang did all he could to regulate his Qi and blood. A mellow jade glow formed on his skin.

Shizhou Island— Forging Jade Formula!

The referee didn't give Fang Zhirong any more time to catch his breath. He raised his right hand and swung it down.

“Begin!”

The bloodstains on Fang Zhirong's lips and nose had not yet been wiped off. He hunched his back and zig-zagged towards Deng Yang in an eccentric and fast manner.

Deng Yang's movements were less dextrous in comparison. He dodged a few times, but couldn't get away. The distance between them was getting shorter and shorter.

At that moment, Fang Zhirong withdrew his Qi and blood, condensed them to his lower abdomen, and released them all at once. His Qi and blood gushed, engorging his legs.

Crack! The ground below him split into a cobweb. With a quick pounce, he was standing before Deng Yang and throwing a right jab!

Deng Yang inhaled. His forehead bulged as he raised his arms to strike his best defensive pose.

Suddenly, the trapezius muscles on Fang Zhirong's back bulged like a butterfly's wings. Violently adjusting his coccyx to the side, he led his body to swerve to the side of his opponent in a single step.

Bam!

He struck out with his left palm fully open, revealing faint, glistening darkness in the center, calling to mind a horrifying pair of venomous fangs.

Deng Yang, stiff from his previous stance and lacking a steady balance, paled at the unavoidable attack. Gritting his teeth, he flexed his biceps and firmed his legs. He struck out.

Riiiip! His sleeves ripped apart, revealing a portion of his jade skin that had been grasped by Fang Zhurong.

Before symptoms like weakness and breathlessness could surface, Deng Yang screwed his face up into a hideous expression. His face shone a jade glow.

Exerting strength suddenly at his feet, he lowered his shoulders and rammed to his side ferociously.

Bam! Suffering from the lingering effects of his turbulent Qi and blood, Fang Zhirong's movements were a tad slower than usual. He had only managed to lift and bar his right arm before himself when the counter-attacking Deng Yang, who didn't even attempt to block or parry, rammed into him.

Fang Zhirong's arm trembled, but he managed to hold his ground. The momentary clot in his Qi and blood almost triggered his internal wounds. In the commentary box, He Xiaowei shuddered as though he was the one who took the impact of the Falling Iron Mountain.

Inside Deng Yang, the effects of Dark Poison Force was kicking in. His strength was gone in an instant, and it was becoming harder for him to breathe. He could only double over and gasp for air.

Due to the huge gap in their Stages, the effects of the poison was extraordinarily effective!

Fang Zhirong's face turned red, then darkened. Holding his opponent in place with his right arm, he drove his fist into his abdomen.

At this moment, a hand extended and caught his attack.

Raising his other hand, the referee announced,

“Round three, Fang Zhirong wins!”

Whew… Heaving a sigh of frustration, Fang Zhirong retracted his fist indignantly and straightened up.

Deng Yang finally managed to catch his breath after gasping for air at length. He gesticulated to his opponent reverently and went down the arena in unsteady steps.

He didn't take many steps before Wang Dali and the others swarmed to him and supported his frail body.

“You should head down to the ER and replenish some oxygen,” suggested Lou Cheng.

“Mhm,” Deng Yang nodded slightly. Panting, he gave a bitter smile. “I…I tried my best…”

“Well done!” praised Lou Cheng from the bottom of his heart. He proffered his fist.

Deng Yang lifted his hand weakly and tapped it against his. After the rite, he was sent to the emergency room.

Beside them, Cai Zongming drew a sharp breath as he looked towards Lou Cheng.

“Can I forfeit?”

“What do you think?” Lou Cheng looked at him with an amused expression.

“I think I have the right to…” Even in his nervous state, he was talkative as usual. Clenching his teeth, he screwed his face up and yelled, “You think I'm scared? Pfft! There's nothing to be scared about! Like you said, the referee's there!”

He marched on with pride and vigor, arriving at the stone steps pompously. Right before he entered the arena, he fixed his expression with a faint smile and put on a calm air.

I'm in the camera's range now!

Can't afford to look bad on TV…

When he was at the center, Fang Zhirong stared at him as though he wanted to devour him whole. Cai Zongming shuddered.

He quickly began calming himself, reciting chants of self-encouragement,

“He's just a dead man walking, he's just a dead man walking…”

The black veins on Fang Zhirong's forehead bulged when he vaguely heard the words. For a moment he almost forgot to tend to his injuries.

The episode almost set the referee off laughing. Shaking his head, he raised his hand and swung down.

“Begin!”

Crack!

Fang Zhirong used a Force Concentration right from the get-go. Switching up his style, he pushed his feet into the ground up and pounced at Cai Zongming at lightning speed.

The view before Xiao Ming whirled, and his enemy already drew close. Tensed, Xiao Ming hurriedly went by the plan. He aligned his feet and raised his arm to block.

His posture was quite eccentric— his hands were gripping at the other hand's sleeve.

Snapping open his fist, Fang Zhirong grabbed for his foe's forearm.

Two loud rips wailed at the same time as Cai Zongming torn off his sleeves. Using the cloth as banners and wind as support, he wrapped them around Fang Zhirong's palms in an anti-clockwise direction. Parrying and counter-attacking, he met his opponent's brute force with finesse.

Immediately after that, with a spring of his elbow joint, he swung out his forearm at his opponent's face. His finger joint was poised for a fillip, the second part of his attack.

Fang Zhirong's face darkened. Jerking his shoulder, he lifted his other arm, causing a smudge of black to appear on the heel of his palms.

Bam! His back-palm strike caught the enemy's naked arm.

At that moment, Cai Zongming felt a pain redolent of a thousand arrows piercing his heart with a scalpel scraping at his bones and ten needles stabbing into his fingers. He screamed and withdrew his hand on reflex.

Cold sweat beaded at his forehead as color faded from his cheeks. He looked as though he was about to faint.

The 27th Style of the Plague Sect— Scorpion Stinger Needle!

This was a secret art that amplified pain!

Fang Zhirong lifted his hips at the chance, ready to deliver a knee strike.

The referee raised his leg in time to ward off the blow. Right hand upraised, he announced,

“Fourth round, Fang Zhirong wins!”

“Final result, Shanbei University Martial Arts Club wins!”

Fang Zhirong drew a breath, his mood improving. He turned to the audience rooting for him and raised his hands to clap and gesticulate his appreciation.

Cai Zongming walked off the arena in a silly and stiff manner. Every step seemed to bring him so much pain that he had to use every bit of his strength to stay conscious.

It was not until Lou Cheng and Wang Dali supported him that he began to get better. Feeling his pain subsiding, he spoke for the first time.

“F***! That hurt like f***!”

I'm glad you are okay… Lou Cheng chuckled to himself. He asked casually,

“Any thoughts?”

“Thoughts? A lot of them! I was f****** reevaluating my life!” Xiao King replied expressively.

And so ended the first round of semi-finals. Songcheng University was disqualified; Shanbei University heads to the finals for the fourth year in a row.

Lou Cheng and the others were all mentally prepared for defeat, so most of them weren't depressed. Still, they felt slightly melancholic and sentimental.

After watching Ren Li's spectacular performance that led Didu Martial Arts Club into the finals, the group from Songcheng University returned to the hotel by bus.

As they stepped into the hotel lounge, a middle-aged man wearing suit and tie greeted Lou Cheng with a smile.

He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had a scholarly air. He introduced himself.

“I am the representative from the Longhu Club.”

Chapter end