Chapter 4482 — Who Will Stand to the Last

Wu Baoliang did not answer. He turned to Cheng Haonan instead, waiting for the leader of the Venom-Eye Mercenary Corps to speak.

"I have faith in the strategist's strength. Since he has asked for this himself, then let him settle this brat Ling Yi on his own," Cheng Haonan promptly said, going with the flow.

Unless it came to the absolute last resort, he would not personally step in to deal with Wei Zhao. Now that Wu Baoliang, this blade of his, still wanted another try, he had no reason whatsoever to step forward and stop him.

After all, whether Wu Baoliang won or lost next, it made no difference to him. As for the points and such—that was Long Kuiba's concern. What the hell did it have to do with Cheng Haonan?

"This... very well, then I'll leave it to the strategist," Long Kuiba had no choice but to give up the argument. Facing Wei Zhao's open challenge, the Dragon Boat Escort Agency had only two people it could truly rely on: one was Wu Baoliang, and the other was Cheng Haonan.

In the present situation, the stronger Cheng Haonan was naturally the more dependable choice—but now that even Cheng Haonan had said as much, what could he possibly do?

When all was said and done, they were allies drawn together by nothing but mutual interest. Over men like Cheng Haonan, he, Long Kuiba, the chief escort of the Dragon Boat Escort Agency, held not the slightest authority; he could only let them have their way.

Since it was Wu Baoliang going into battle again, then according to the rules he was entitled to the time of one stick of incense to recover. In that time he could not only restore his true qi, but also think over his strategy and act only after planning—at the very least, he could pull his frame of mind back together, and not charge back onto the platform still so hot-headed.

Yet what left everyone's jaws on the floor was this: never mind a stick of incense—Wu Baoliang could not endure even a single breath. The moment Long Kuiba and Cheng Haonan nodded, he charged without a word, brimming with murderous fury, straight into the ruins of the arena platform.

"Where did you steal this Raging Sand Thousand-Blast Fist from? Impossible—there's no way you know Mutual Annihilation of All Things, absolutely no way. This is my own unique technique!" Wu Baoliang jabbed a finger at Wei Zhao's nose, beside himself with rage.

No wonder he was so worked up. Put any normal person in his position, and they would likely be driven mad too—defeated by the very move they were proudest of. Especially since his opponent had not known it in the previous match, and then suddenly knew it in the next. How was a man supposed to live with that?

"Mutual Annihilation of All Things?" Wei Zhao was briefly taken aback, then shook his head mildly. "I don't know any Mutual Annihilation of All Things. But there's always a bigger fish—there are plenty of formidable people under heaven. Is it so strange that someone else can use your martial technique? 'Unique technique,' hah. You believe tall tales meant to fool three-year-olds? Has no one ever told you to eat something and nourish that brain of yours..."

"Waaah-yah-yah-yah! Go to hell!" Mocked so by Wei Zhao, Wu Baoliang—already beside himself—was instantly smoking from every orifice. Without waiting for the presiding judge to speak, the black qi on his body burst forth in a wild rampage. He had simply struck first.

"You're not young anymore—can't even take a joke, tsk tsk." Wei Zhao smiled with a face full of derision and slowly extended a fist. Blazing firelight likewise shot up into the sky.

The presiding judge was helpless at the sight. Seeing Wu Baoliang in this berserk state, for a moment he did not dare speak up to stop him, terrified that the man might vent his fury on him—and that he could not afford.

Originally, because the arena platform had been smashed to rubble, the five grandees of the judging panel had still been discussing whether to switch venues. But the moment they saw the stance these two had taken, they all tactfully dropped the discussion. Any replacement platform would just get wrecked the same way, so they might as well let them finish first. They promptly signaled the presiding judge to declare the match begun.

Half a sky of black qi and howling sand, half a sky of firelight piercing the heavens—the scene was a carbon copy of moments ago. The only difference was that Wu Baoliang was even less able to contain himself this time, and without a word went straight to detonating.

"You're courting death yourself—no one can stop you now," Wei Zhao said coldly, standing amid the firelight.

Even if his newly developed Fury-Fire Thousand-Blast Fist was not yet mastered, its lethality was certainly no joke. If Wu Baoliang fought at full power, he might still have some chance of holding his own; but in a state as hot-headed as this, it was no different from seeking death.

Whom the gods would destroy, they first drive mad—Wu Baoliang's present state was a living illustration of that saying.

Blast! At Wei Zhao's cold shout, the sky-piercing firelight swept forward with the force of withering rot, and in an instant swallowed the black qi and howling sand opposite utterly. Last time his foe had at least been able to struggle a little; this time, Wu Baoliang did not have the slightest room to resist—he was crushed by Wei Zhao beyond any doubt.

The sky-piercing firelight pressed closer and closer. Though it had not yet fully touched him, that searing heat grew more unbearable by the moment. Wu Baoliang's eyes flew wide, and he mumbled a few words from his mouth: "So... that's how it is..."

Only at this moment did he finally understand Wei Zhao's method. His own Raging Sand Thousand-Blast Fist used sand colliding against sand to produce sand explosions; Wei Zhao's Fury-Fire Thousand-Blast Fist, it turned out, used fire crystals colliding against each other!

Legend had it that any flame, once it reached a certain temperature, could undergo a mutation and form fire crystals of extraordinary temperature and immense energy. Even if they were as tiny as grains of sand, the destructive power hidden within them was absolutely nothing to scoff at.

Wu Baoliang could never in his wildest dreams have imagined that Wei Zhao's command of fire intent had reached such a consummate, almost divine level. Compared with his raging sand, the fire crystals Wei Zhao had condensed were not only more active and easier to control, but also more powerful!

No wonder the thing could produce a thousandfold blast; no wonder that, though it was plainly a knockoff of the Raging Sand Thousand-Blast Fist, its power far exceeded the genuine article. In that instant, Wu Baoliang understood everything.

Boundless terror flooded his heart. If he were given another chance to choose, Wu Baoliang would sooner die than ever face Wei Zhao again. Unfortunately, he had understood too late.

Those crystalline, translucent fire crystals had already clung to his body. They looked exquisite and beautiful, yet they were the death god's summons, the very things that took a man's life.

A sudden, thunderous roar burst forth, and the whole of Mo Leng City trembled without cease. Then the whole world fell silent.

Everyone in the arena stared wide-eyed, fixed on the ruins of the platform, waiting for the dust to settle. The two figures inside finally came into view: one was Wei Zhao, standing with hands folded behind him; the other was Wu Baoliang, sprawled on the ground spitting black smoke, plainly breathing out far more than he breathed in. (Fifth update of the day!) (To be continued...)