Chapter 3938 — Sent Flying Again

The victor may seize every last point from the defeated—such a rule was cruel beyond words. Whoever dreamt it up was nothing short of a devil!

To the newcomers of today, points were their very lifeline, directly determining their future prospects. Robbing them of points was no different from taking their lives—they would fight you to the bitter end with everything they had.

Yet this ruthless rule also made certain newcomers' eyes light up—here was a peerless chance to turn one's fortunes around! At the very least, this rule suited Meng Zhou's tastes perfectly.

As it happened, he too had taken the Midnight-Noon Heart-Shattering Pill, and his strength had surged by a considerable margin, giving him ample confidence to stand against Wei Zhao.

Just as Meng Zhou was secretly making his calculations, Hu Yunfeng's next words made his eyelid twitch: "Of course, this challenge round is not compulsory. Any newcomer who is named may choose to decline—but the price is fifty points paid to the challenger. Fair and reasonable."

Fifty points—to any other newcomer, that was nothing short of an astronomical figure. But on a freak like Wei Zhao, who routinely scored full marks, it was a drop in the ocean. Fifty points? He could toss out a hundred without batting an eye.

But that very fact was bad news for Meng Zhou, who was bent on climbing to the top over Wei Zhao's corpse. What if Wei Zhao sensed trouble and simply conceded on the spot?

Wei Zhao might put on airs, but at his level of strength, his instinct for danger was bound to be razor-sharp—he was hardly likely to march up and throw his life away knowing full well he would die. And Meng Zhou, for all that his temperament had changed, was as arrogant and self-assured as ever.

"Here's hoping this fellow keeps up his posturing. Otherwise, how would it repay the heart-shattering agony I've endured all these days?" Meng Zhou cast Wei Zhao a cold, sinister glance.

A short while later, the rules had all been explained, and the newcomers of the Three Stack Pavilion began their battles one after another.

Yet before the crowd could enter their final challenge round, the first order of business was the drawing of lots. This round was too critical, too deadly for the newcomers, so fairness had to be ensured at all costs—the draw existed to determine the order in which they would issue their challenges.

After all, by the rules, every newcomer had only one chance to challenge and one chance to be challenged. Without such a method to fix the order, it would easily descend into a scramble of many people fighting to challenge the same opponent—and everyone knows to pick the softest persimmon.

The draw was meant to solve this very problem: whoever drew the higher number won the right to issue the first challenge. And this time, the first newcomer of the Azure Cloud Pavilion to gain the right to challenge was none other than Meng Zhou.

Who knew whether Meng Jueming had deliberately arranged it to go easy on him!

Watching the white-haired Meng Zhou walk slowly onto the platform, radiating an unfamiliar, powerful aura, the newcomers could not help but shrink their necks in unison. The old Meng Zhou had been no weakling, but now he was inexplicably formidable enough to make one's heart skip with dread. Anyone he named would truly be shaking at the knees, scared into a heart attack.

Fortunately, Meng Zhou had long since settled on his target. He pointed at Wei Zhao below the platform and crooked a finger: "You know who I mean. Come up—if you're not afraid to die."

Wei Zhao smiled, unbothered, said nothing more, and stepped lightly onto the platform with an easy air.

"Not conceding? Kneel before me now, and you might still keep that dog's life of yours." Meng Zhou raised an eyebrow at him, and at the same time unleashed his full aura without reservation, cowing the crowd below into ashen faces.

Even Murong Zhen, a peak expert of the early Foundation Establishment stage, could not help but change color. From his aura alone, one could sense that Meng Zhou's current strength had completely surpassed her own—it likely fell somewhere between the peak of early Foundation Establishment and the mid stage, and quite possibly he possessed the strength of the foremost figure beneath mid-stage Foundation Establishment!

"Concede?" Wei Zhao shrugged and smiled faintly. "Why should I concede? Don't tell me you think this little bit of strength is enough to beat me?"

"Posturing! It's just as well you won't concede—settling you today will finish this once and for all!" Meng Zhou gave a cold snort. Wei Zhao's earlier display of power had been formidable enough to make the heart quail, but with the confidence Meng Zhou now possessed, he did not regard his opponent as worth a second thought.

"Then let's just fight and see." Wei Zhao shook his head, his face placid.

Meng Zhou wasted no more words. A terrifying explosive force erupted from beneath his feet, shattering the rocky platform where he stood, and his whole body shot toward his opponent like an arrow.

Below the platform, Meng Jueming watched with deep satisfaction, while the long-suffering senior brother, along with Xiao Che and Qiao Hongcai and the others, knitted their brows in secret. Just what kind of devilish fortuitous encounter had Meng Zhou stumbled upon, to have his strength soar to such a level in so short a time!

At this moment, the oppressive force radiating from Meng Zhou was such that even the crowd below could hardly withstand it; the weaker newcomers unconsciously retreated several steps, not daring to look him straight in the eye.

Yet Wei Zhao paid it no mind whatsoever. Facing the onrushing Meng Zhou, he merely extended a single palm with casual indifference and gave a light swat, as though swatting a fly.

And Meng Zhou was promptly swatted to the ground, unable to rise for a long while.

Eh? The entire crowd was struck dumb. The mighty, insufferable Meng Zhou—swatted down just like that?

The scene was truly beyond all expectation. In the several months since the Welcome Pavilion, Wei Zhao's strength had long since taken root in everyone's hearts; no one would be so foolish as to underestimate him anymore.

But by the same token, they had all witnessed Meng Zhou's ordeal these past days and his present condition. The Meng Zhou of today was utterly transformed—even Murong Zhen could not help but feel a tremor of fear facing him. How could such a man be weak?

By everyone's reckoning, even if Meng Zhou's strength did not exceed Wei Zhao's, it was surely on par with his, certainly not far beneath—and yet, who would have thought it would come to this the moment the fight began!

True enough, Meng Zhou had displayed unprecedented strength, inspiring dread in all who beheld him, and some had even begun to imagine that this time, Wei Zhao was finally done for!

Yet before Wei Zhao, all of it was not worth a fart. The Meng Zhou they saw as mighty was no more than a fly, lightly swatted to the ground.

The scene left the entire crowd stunned, speechless for a long, long while.

At last, Meng Zhou slowly climbed to his feet, spat a bloody gob at Wei Zhao's feet, cursed, "Fuck your mother," and swung his leg at Wei Zhao once more.

Bang! Before the crowd below could even react, Wei Zhao's palm shot out again—once more, with effortless ease, he swatted Meng Zhou flat on the ground. R1152