C20 How Is He Compared to Yang Fann?

"Should I go first?"

The young man in grey's face turned pale as a flash of reluctance swept through his dark eyes. He had planned to observe others attempt the trial first, hoping to spot the weaknesses in Bronze Warriors' Lane and make his own passage easier, thus securing his advancement to the Outer Sect. It was to his dismay that he found himself selected as the first challenger. He wanted to refuse, but Manager Bai's command was not to be disobeyed.

With gritted teeth and a heavy stomp, the youth in grey steeled himself and stepped into Bronze Warriors' Lane.

Bronze Warriors burst through the walls, brandishing their massive hammers and lunging at the youth in grey.

"Break!"

With a sharp cry, he swung his fists, sending the Bronze Warriors flying. In less than the time it takes for ten breaths, he had cleared a hundred meters.

At two hundred and forty meters, he faced the first major challenge of the lane. The Bronze Warriors' strength surged, and the youth's pace slowed considerably. By the time he reached three hundred and sixty meters, each Bronze Warrior possessed the might of a Fourth Layer martial artist, leaving the youth struggling to move forward.

Surrounded by an overwhelming number of Bronze Warriors, the relentless hammering took its toll on his body. Despite his iron-like constitution, he couldn't stop the blood that spilled from his mouth with each blow.

Eventually, he collapsed around three hundred and eighty meters in.

An outer sect disciple outside the lane swiftly struck the wall, halting the Bronze Warriors' movements and sending them back into their recesses.

"Three hundred and eighty-six meters, disqualified!"

Another outer sect disciple quickly approached, looking down at him with disdain, and dragged him out like discarded refuse, tossing him outside the cave.

"He really got the worst of it!"

The sight of the battered youth in grey drew sharp intakes of breath from the servant disciples. Many contemplated retreat. He was no weakling, with a mid-stage Fourth Layer cultivation, ranking him within the top fifteen hundred of the two thousand disciples. If even he could only make it three hundred and eighty-six meters, what chance did the others have?

Luckily, his injuries were superficial. With a few days' rest, his robust physique would ensure a full recovery.

Relieved whispers spread among the servant disciples. The prospect of sustaining severe or life-threatening injuries upon failure made many reconsider their willingness to continue the trial.

"Next, you!"

The call came quickly, and a Black-Clothed Youth with a delicate appearance entered the lane, his steps shaky. His strength was evidently less than the grey-clothed youth's. After a bumpy journey of three hundred and sixty meters, he was brutally struck down by the Bronze Warriors.

"You!"

Manager Bai pointed decisively, and a muscular youth with a grave demeanor stepped into the lane. His cultivation was at the late Fourth Layer, and he boasted a Rank-9 High Grade bloodline, making him significantly stronger than the man in grey. In the previous competition, he would have breezed through, but the increased difficulty of this trial meant he barely made it past four hundred and fifty meters before being felled by a Bronze Warrior.

"Even he has failed. This is just too hard!"

"Is there really a chance for us to pass this trial and advance to the Outer Sect smoothly?"

"I think it's best to just give up."

The mood turned somber as many servant disciples contemplated forfeiting. The muscular young man among them was no pushover; he was considered above average within their ranks. Yet, he had been halted at 450 meters. For anyone else, the outcome would likely be the same. The final 20 meters were the most daunting, with the Bronze Man's strength increasing fivefold, making it an immense challenge.

Manager Bai, perhaps discerning the defeatist attitude among the servants, picked a formidable contender this time—a striking young man adorned in brocade, with well-defined features and piercing eyes, exuding a subtle air of arrogance.

Liu Chen, with his mid-stage fifth-layer cultivation and a potent quasi-eighth-grade bloodline, stood out as exceptionally strong among the thousands of servant disciples.

Stepping into the Bronze Warriors' Lane, Liu Chen watched as the walls on either side burst open, revealing bronze warriors wielding massive hammers.

"Break!"

With overwhelming force, he sent four bronze warriors crashing to the ground with a single punch. As a second-tier prodigy, just below the Three Heroes and One Immortal, Liu Chen's prowess was unmatched by his fellow servant disciples. Like a fearsome humanoid tyrannosaur, he carved a path through the lane, reaching 480 meters in under thirty seconds.

The bronze warriors' strength surged, nearly matching that of an early-stage fifth-layer Rank-9 bloodline holder, but they still couldn't halt Liu Chen's advance.

In less than ten breaths, Liu Chen had breezed through the final twenty meters that had left so many servant disciples in despair, securing his advancement spot.

"They're just too weak!"

Liu Chen's laughter echoed as he pressed on, swiftly surpassing 500 meters. Now, the bronze warriors' might rivaled that of a mid-stage martial artist, but they were as flimsy as paper against Liu Chen, none posing any real threat.

Outside the Bronze Warriors' Lane, the servant disciples watched in awe...

"Six hundred meters! He's incredibly strong!"

"He's still pushing forward; these bronze warriors stand no chance against him."

"Six hundred and sixteen meters! Is this really the power of a servant disciple? Even many Outer Sect disciples can't make it this far!"

"Senior Brother Zhao, what do you think of my disciple?" Chen Jianhua asked, casually straightening his nose bridge with a smug smile, standing in a clearing hundreds of meters from the lane, addressing Zhao Yiming.

"He's quite impressive," Zhao Yiming admitted, though it pained him to do so. Six hundred and sixteen meters was an impressive feat; it could have placed him in the top ten in the previous year, far surpassing Zhao's own past performance of just barely clearing five hundred meters.

Chen Jianhua offered a knowing smile, then casually mused, "I wonder, between him and Yang Fann, who's stronger?"