Chapter 235: Arena Competition

He Lingchuan understood it instantly. The Lean Man was actually running a gambling operation in the South Yard!

"This is allowed?"

"Why not?" A Luo chuckled, a rare sight. "Gambling brings in the crowds."

He Lingchuan considered it and agreed; watching a match without placing a bet felt soulless.

"See that largest training ground?" A Luo pointed south. "It has a fence but no walls, meaning it’s open to the public. The matches held there are truly grand, and each time, the audience is incredibly enthusiastic, with at least seven or eight hundred people placing bets."

Dragon City, military and civilian alike, held martial prowess in high regard.

After the Lean Man finished distributing the money, the crowd around him dispersed. He spotted He Lingchuan and A Luo, quickly tidied his disheveled shirt, and approached them with a grin. "Oh, the new recruit's here!"

A Luo, seizing the moment, said, "You two have fun; I'm heading to the clinic." He then walked towards the medical building. The person who had just been knocked down in the arena had a dislocated jaw and needed his immediate attention.

The Lean Man grabbed He Lingchuan. "Want to make a bit of money?" he asked.

"How?"

"You're new here, so no one knows your skill. I'll find you a few opponents who are guaranteed to be weaker than you. We can split the winnings fifty-fifty?"

He Lingchuan smiled. "That sounds good, but I only want reliable opponents—not too weak, and not ones who'll simply flatten me." He didn't want to waste time.

The Lean Man, not giving up, pressed, "You really don't want to earn anything?"

He Lingchuan merely glanced at him.

"Alright, alright, I understand. Liutiao mentioned you're new to the grappling hook. How's your practice going?"

"Just started, so I'm not proficient yet," He Lingchuan replied honestly. "It'll take more time. How come you do so many things?"

"Don't I have to support my family?" the Lean Man chuckled. "How could a bachelor like you, who only has himself to feed, understand the struggles of a family man? Every morning I wake up, there are so many mouths to feed. Just wait, I'll find you an opponent."

He seemed very familiar with the South Yard of the Martial Arts Hall, whistling loudly and shouting, "Hook, someone's challenging you!"

The man who had just successfully defended his title a quarter of an hour earlier turned around and asked, "Who?"

The Lean Man patted He Lingchuan's shoulder. "I found you a fine young man. This is He, who's recently been making quite a name for himself..."

He Lingchuan stepped forward, cutting off the Lean Man's introduction. "Hello, I am Broken Blade."

His heroic feat of single-handedly saving an army in the Ghost Needle Stone Forest was still widely recounted throughout Dragon City, and his fame had yet to subside. While everyone knew his given name was He Lingchuan, few knew his patrol guard codename was "Broken Blade."

So, Hook, the current champion, merely crooked a finger at him. "Come, pick a weapon."

Along the edge of the training ground was a weapon rack, fully stocked with everything from conventional to unusual weapons. He Lingchuan even spotted a giant spiked club, almost chest-high when stood upright, though its blunt iron studs had been replaced with wooden ones.

The Lean Man quickly took the opportunity to brief He Lingchuan: "In the Martial Arts Hall, only weapons provided here are allowed; no personal weapons or elemental energy can be used. The fight must stop if an opponent loses the ability to attack or surrenders. Beyond that, anything goes—it’s not explicitly stated that deaths are prohibited. Oh, and Hook is most skilled with twin tiger hooks, but they aren't on the weapon rack..."

Before he could finish, Hook picked up a wooden axe and a large shield from the ground—the same weapons he had used to defeat his previous opponent.

As it was a defensive weapon, the shield wasn't wooden but a standard square iron shield, though it had no spikes or sharpened edges.

He Lingchuan pondered for a moment, then chose a wooden saber.

It was the most common and effective weapon on the battlefield, and the one he was currently most proficient with.

Hook returned to the center of the platform, raised his axe, and slammed it against his shield. "Come on!" he challenged.

He Lingchuan leaped into the arena. The two bowed to each other, and the match began.

The surrounding crowd immediately converged. The Lean Man began shouting again, "'Broken Blade' versus 'Hook'! Newcomer's debut, high odds! Come on, place your bets!"

This man was truly obsessed with money. He Lingchuan shook his head, and in a flash, Hook was already upon him.

So fast!

This man, wielding an axe and a shield, and bare-chested to reveal a muscular physique, looked at first glance like a power fighter. Yet, surprisingly, his footwork was exceptionally agile.

His large shield, held in his left hand, came up from below, aimed at He Lingchuan's chin. A direct hit would likely send an opponent flying, and knock out a mouthful of teeth—a move commonly known as the "sky cannon." That unlucky fellow earlier had his jaw dislocated by precisely this attack.

If He Lingchuan dodged, his upper body would inevitably tilt back, leaving him vulnerable to Hook's right-hand axe, which would come down to cleave his knee.

In real combat, such a strike could cripple an opponent's lower body.

Yet, both his shield and axe found only air.

As Hook’s shield slammed upwards, He Lingchuan placed a hand on its top, used a slight push from his toes, and leveraged the momentum to leap directly over Hook's head.

It truly looked as if Hook had launched him skyward; his body, weighing over 140 pounds, floated like willow catkins in the wind. This was the fruit of his diligent practice of the "Swallow's Return" movement technique.

The Lean Man and the crowd below couldn't help but cheer.

Hook's large shield blocked above his head. He Lingchuan executed a backward somersault, and his long saber, following the momentum, swung past the back of Hook's neck.

Hook's axe had just begun its downward swing when he heard a sharp "thwack," felt a sting at the back of his neck, and a red mark appeared on his skin where the wooden saber had connected.

He Lingchuan landed, standing four feet away.

"Beheaded!" the Lean Man roared. "The match is over!"

In real combat, He Lingchuan's strike would have already severed his opponent's head.

A thunderous applause erupted from the crowd.

Hook shook his head, turned, and looked at He Lingchuan. "How did you..."

He Lingchuan smiled. "That's how you won your previous matches." He had carefully observed Hook's fighting style from the sidelines and formulated a counter-strategy. It was sheer overconfidence for Hook to attempt the same move against two different opponents.

Besides, He Lingchuan had previously been caught by the "sky cannon" move; there was no reason to fall for the same trick twice.

Hook, realizing his mistake, looked somewhat annoyed. "Again!" he said.

"Can you two wait?" The Lean Man was exasperated. "My betting pool hasn't even opened yet!" The previous fight had lasted only a single exchange, and the audience hadn't had time to place their bets.

What a loss! Broken Blade's debut could have brought in a lot of money; this was a huge missed opportunity!

"Hold on!" A powerful voice suddenly boomed from the crowd below, and a man stepped forward.

He was a bald, burly man, built like a bear, with thick hair covering his hands and face—almost resembling a black bear spirit.

Though his eyes were small, they glinted fiercely, sending shivers down the spine of anyone he glared at.

Everyone instinctively made way for him.

He Lingchuan couldn't help but gasp inwardly. He actually recognized this person. How was it that on his very first visit to the Martial Arts Hall, he kept encountering familiar faces?

This man was Meng Shan.

The second time He Lingchuan entered the Dragon Dreamscape, he fought alongside the Great Wind Army in the river valley interception battle, covering the retreat of the fleeing Weicheng citizens. And this Meng Shan was a centurion among the Baliang pursuers, utterly unstoppable from the moment he appeared!

Back then, in just a single exchange, Meng Shan had broken He Lingchuan's arm with a move identical to Hook's "sky cannon."

However, when Meng Shan executed it, its power was far more than double.

Now Meng Shan grinned at He Lingchuan, revealing a row of menacing white teeth. "Kid, I remember you," he said.

He Lingchuan frowned. "Is your leg injury healed?"

At that time, Meng Shan had been ambushed by He Lingchuan and his companions using a giant beast trap buried in the ground, which snapped one of his legs. That was what forced him to end his rampaging spree and, unfortunately, be captured.

Meng Shan, of course, remembered. Hearing this, he let out a few dry chuckles, and the fierce glint in his eyes intensified.

A Luo appeared from seemingly nowhere, standing at the edge of the ring. "After Meng Shan was captured, General Hong personally persuaded him to surrender, and he has now pledged allegiance to Dragon City." He paused. "Now, he is our comrade."

This man was personally persuaded to surrender by General Hong—quite a prestigious honor!

Meng Shan pointed north, a look of triumph on his face. "Today, I joined the Great Wind Army and was directly promoted to squad leader. I'm heading into the North Yard now."

A wave of envious murmurs immediately swept through the South Yard of the Martial Arts Hall. Many people grumbled, "That surrendered general gets into the North Yard before us!"

"What's so impressive? He just relies on his size!"

Despite the complaints, no one actually objected, as Meng Shan's strength was indeed proportional to his massive size.

This was a man personally persuaded and guided by General Hong, whose abilities were a cut above those of ordinary Great Wind soldiers. Furthermore, he had served as a centurion in his original elite Baliang army, leading from the front in battles—a truly formidable figure. His direct promotion to squad leader upon joining the Great Wind Army was therefore not surprising.

The appointment of talented individuals has always been unconventional.

"You little brats, eat my dust!" Meng Shan said nonchalantly, making an indescribable gesture at the crowd before turning to He Lingchuan. "Shall we spar?" he asked.

Given the fierce glint in his eyes, no one would misunderstand his "good intentions."

He was clearly still smarting from that defeat and wanted to get some payback from He Lingchuan, who was one of the key figures involved.

Just as He Lingchuan was about to speak, the Lean Man grabbed his arm and quickly warned, "You don't have to accept this challenge. He's no longer part of the South Yard. This 'bear' used to dominate here and fought viciously. A Luo alone treated seven or eight injured people he defeated; even the least injured among them needed over ten days to get out of bed!"

The implication was clear: he could easily flatten He Lingchuan.

He Lingchuan felt a flicker of warmth. While the Lean Man would sell his underwear for money, he was surprisingly decent to his comrades.

Then the Lean Man immediately added, "You're definitely going to lose, so there's no point in setting up a bet for this match."

"..." He Lingchuan shrugged off his hand, stepped forward, and said to Meng Shan, "Choose your weapon."

"Oh, another one not afraid to die," the nearby martial artists whistled excitedly.

Spectators from the other training grounds heard the commotion and flocked over, packing the area until it was shoulder to shoulder.

Everyone pointed and gestured with cheerful smiles, as if celebrating a festival.

Meng Shan burst out laughing. "Good boy, today Grandpa will teach you how to be a real man!" With that, he strode to the weapon rack and pulled out the largest, thickest, and heaviest spiked club!

This club was practically carved from a single log, with countless wooden spikes embedded as "wolf teeth." While its destructive power couldn't compare to iron spikes, in Meng Shan's hands, smashing a person's head would be as effortless as cracking a coconut, requiring no second strike.