C17 Bone Forging Martial Master

"A duel?" Zhao Yiming's eyebrows furrowed as he scoffed inwardly. Yang Fann, at the early stage of the Sixth Layer, was certainly impressive among the servant disciples of the Kaiyang lineage, often finding few equals. But when measured against Qin Feng, one of the vaunted Three Heroes, the gap was significant. If he were to accept this wager, he'd stand no chance of victory.

As Zhao Yiming was organizing his thoughts to decline, Chen Jianhua spoke up once more. "I remember when Senior Brother Zhao was the epitome of valor. To think that now, in his middle years, he would shy away from such a trivial bet. It's utterly disheartening!" Chen lamented, shaking his head and clutching his chest in exaggerated sorrow. "Never mind! Let's just forget I mentioned anything about a bet!"

"Junior Brother Chen, hold on. I accept the bet!"

Despite knowing it was a losing battle, Zhao Yiming refused to let Chen Jianhua gloat in his presence.

"Excellent! That's the Senior Brother Zhao I know!" Chen Jianhua's eyes gleamed with sly satisfaction. "Since it's a bet, we must have stakes..."

A sense of foreboding weighed on Zhao Yiming; he sensed the bet was more complicated than it seemed.

"Senior Brother, let's make it ten Spirit Stones," Chen proposed.

Zhao Yiming felt his chest tighten, anger flaring in his eyes. Chen Jianhua made it sound trivial, but Spirit Stones were no small matter. These crystallized essences of the Spirit of Heaven and Earth were indispensable for a martial artist's cultivation and served as their universal currency. As a third-tier manager of Servicemen's Peak, the sect allotted him a mere one Spirit Stone annually. With additional earnings, managing to secure three a year was already pushing his limits. Ten Spirit Stones represented a significant portion of his savings!

"Senior Brother Zhao, surely ten Spirit Stones is a trifle for a peak manager like yourself!"

"Fine! Ten Spirit Stones it is!"

Zhao Yiming felt as though his heart was hemorrhaging, but he bit back the pain and agreed. There was no turning back now.

"Great! Senior Brother Zhao is truly magnanimous. It's a deal then!" Chen Jianhua exclaimed, barely concealing his triumph.

As Chen Jianhua strode away, a calmer Zhao Yiming was immediately struck with regret. With Qin Feng in the picture, he stood no chance of winning the bet. Ten Spirit Stones—most of his savings—were at stake. Impulsiveness truly was the devil!

"Junior Brother Yang, everything rests on you now. If you can defeat Qin Feng, I will surely reward you handsomely," Zhao Yiming said earnestly to Yang Fann. The bet was cast, and regret was pointless. All he could do was hope for Yang Fann to pull off another upset.

"One of the Three Heroes, Qin Feng?" Yang Fann caught a glimpse of Qin Feng, standing out like a crane among chickens, and responded with gravity, "Manager, I'll give it my all."

Qin Feng was no easy target; even his peers, Sima Yun and Leng Rushuang, wouldn't confidently claim victory over him.

"Junior Brother Yang, just do your best," Zhao Yiming said, offering a supportive nod. He didn't expect Yang Fann to triumph over Yuyang Peak. Deep down, he knew that while Yang Fann had the potential to rank in the top ten, challenging a powerhouse with an Eighth Grade Bloodline like the Three Heroes was wishful thinking.

The chasm between an Eighth Grade Bloodline and a Ninth-class Bloodline is vast, akin to the difference between the heavens and the earth. Possessors of the Eighth Grade Bloodline wield a strength five times greater than those with a Ninth-class Bloodline at the same level of cultivation. For them, overcoming higher ranks is as simple as eating and drinking—a mark of true genius!

Elsewhere, Chen Jianhua stepped out with a spring in his step, covering several dozen yards before he turned to Qin Feng, who shone like a beacon in the night sky, capturing the gazes of all around. With a slight smile, he said, "Junior Brother Qin, the stage is yours now!"

His demeanor was tinged with respect, subtly laced with an eagerness to please. Qin Feng was no ordinary servant disciple; he was the premier talent of Yuyang Peak, destined to condense his Spirit Bones and ascend into the elite realm of Bone Forging. There might come a day when Chen would find himself leaning on Qin Feng's strength.

Upon hearing this, Qin Feng offered no extensive reply. He merely glanced over at Yang Fann, his deep, dark eyes flashing with unmistakable scorn. Did Yang really think he could challenge him just because they shared the same level of cultivation? Such naivety!

In the next moment...

Qin Feng's gaze shifted, pausing on Leng Rushuang and Sima Yun. Out of the thousands of servant disciples gathered, only these two stood out as worthy adversaries. The others were fated to be mere stepping stones for the Three Heroes.

Time ticked by, and soon half an hour had passed. Hundreds of Servicemen's Peak disciples from Kaiyang Peak had arrived, swelling the crowd to nearly two thousand strong. The base of Peak-Bound was now a veritable ocean of humanity. Zhao Yiming, Chen Jianhua, and the other peak managers had already departed, stepping aside to observe.

Just then...

"Have all the servant disciples from each peak arrived?" boomed a majestic voice from above.

In that moment, a wave of potent Spiritual Energy radiated from the base of the mountain, enveloping the area for miles around. Every disciple, Yang Fann included, felt the overwhelming force of it.

Yang couldn't resist looking up, and awe struck him to his core.

Hovering in midair was a man, a middle-aged figure in his forties, clad in white robes that billowed like clouds. His presence was enigmatic, his entire being exuded an air of returning to the essence of nature. His steps were measured and unhurried, exuding a leisurely confidence, yet each step was imbued with a steady, commanding authority. A sudden, immense pressure descended, leaving everyone breathless.

To walk upon the air—this was the hallmark of a Bone Forging stage Martial Master, an awe-inspiring sight. His mere spirit could suppress me, denying me any chance of resistance. This is a disparity in the very tiers of life; I stand no chance against him. Even if I were to unleash every last one of my trump cards, I would still fall short. No, more precisely, with a mere flick of his finger, he could effortlessly crush me. Amidst the shock, Yang Fann's heart was tinged with bitterness. "In his eyes, we servant disciples are probably no more significant than oblivious ants..."