Chapter 452: Return
Chapter 452: Return (Requesting Monthly Vote)
The group nodded. For these Sss-Rank Geniuses, crossing into higher realms for battle was simply unthinkable.
A single Stage gap meant an insurmountable chasm.
Seventh Realm Martial Artists could only be challenged by others of the Seventh Realm.
This was a hard-earned lesson from the past 35 Martial Arts Tournaments.
Now that Shen Heng had ascended to the Seventh Realm, the championship race remained uncertain—Xia Kingdom still had a shot at victory.
Seeing their excitement, Lin Qi kept his own ambitions to himself.
In truth, neither Shen Heng nor Ivan could win this crown. Not with him in the running.
…
As the competition progressed, the strong advanced while the weak fell by the wayside.
An hour and a half later, the sixth round concluded, finalizing the 63 competitors who would enter the next stage.
A break was called, with the seventh round set to resume in the afternoon.
…
Otherworld, Azure Firmament Base, Heavenly Dome Institute
“Boom!!”
A squadron of Falcon Fighters tore through the cloudless sky, their engines roaring as they descended onto the airfield.
“Hiss!!”
The aircraft hatch hissed open, and several figures stepped out.
Xue Zhou emerged first—his rugged jawline shadowed with stubble, his battle-scarred blue armor reflecting the sunlight.
“Finally back!” he declared, his tone carefree.
“The hard part’s over. Time to relax for a bit.”
Behind him, more figures filed out, clad in armor of various hues. Their suits bore deep gashes, and the lingering aura of slaughter still clung to them.
“Looks like the Nine Realms experts who hunted Level 10 Disaster Beasts are back,” someone remarked. “Heard they scored big this time.”
“With several Ninth Realm Martial Artists holding the Steel Great Wall, even Level 9 Disaster Beasts retreated.”
“We’ve earned this rest,” a burly man chuckled, his aura rippling with residual energy.
At his words, weary faces broke into smiles.
Suddenly, Xue Zhou spoke again:
“By the way, today’s the final day of the Global Martial Arts Championship.”
“The champion’s about to be decided.”
“We should log in later. Might catch the crowning moment.”
A tall woman added, “After this tournament, Xia Kingdom’s likely to gain a few more High Realms experts.”
“Rumble!!”
A new roar split the sky—a sleek, crimson disc-shaped aircraft, larger and faster than the Falcons, touched down. Its alloy surface gleamed metallically under the sun.
The craft landed atop the largest, most luxurious villa in Xingxiu Residence’s secluded district, where elite Nine Realms Martial Artists maintained private estates.
Xue Zhou exhaled. “Red Emperor’s back.”
“That’s his personal fighter. Probably stopping here temporarily.”
The group nodded, their relaxed moods tightening with sudden tension at the mention of the Red Emperor’s arrival.
…
2:30 PM
Scarlet Realm, Global Martial Arts Championship Arena
Millions of spectators filled the stands. Countries unable to connect via Neural Pod still followed the live broadcasts worldwide, all waiting in hushed anticipation.
By this round, all competitors were Sixth Realm experts—Late Stage dominants, many wielding Minor Divine Abilities. The power gap had narrowed to razor-thin margins.
“I’d bet on Bear Republic’s Ivan Petrov for the crown.”
“Uncontested strength. Everyone else’s playing second fiddle.”
“Shen Heng from Xia Kingdom’s no slouch, but he lacks that champion spark.”
In the audience, debates raged over who’d advance. Yet more still speculated about the final victor—within hours, the tournament would crown its champion.
In the Vip section, Dean Liu noticed a sudden influx of logged-in spectators.
“Old Xue, you’re back?”
Xue Zhou’s blue-robed avatar materialized with a smile. “The situation stabilized. We logged on to catch the matches.”
Dean Liu nodded, his gaze shifting to the arena.
On the screen, Mountain and River King manipulated the interface, then vanished—reappearing as a hologram above the ring. His Grand Scenic Aesthetic erupted behind him, a boundless, majestic landscape spanning continents, capturing every spectator’s breath.
The audience fell silent.
Mountain and River King’s voice thundered:
“Welcome to the Global Martial Arts Championship!”
“We now commence the seventh round. Sixty-three competitors will battle fiercely—only the top 32 will advance to Round Eight.”
“The 32 victors will receive 150 million Xia Kingdom Currency as prize money.”
“They’ll also claim 5,000 kilograms of Grade 7 Disaster Beast flesh—freely choosing the species—plus 100 kilograms of Grade 8 Disaster Beast flesh!”
The crowd erupted.
“Grade 8 Disaster Beast flesh!” someone exclaimed. “I’d trade 1,000 kilograms of Grade 7 for even a sliver!”
“Only one Grade higher, but Grade 8 flesh contains rare essences that supercharge cultivation.”
“Certain compounds don’t exist in Grade 7 at all,” another added.
Shen Heng grinned in the Xia Kingdom stands.
“Grade 8 flesh for Top 32? In past tournaments, only semifinalists got that!”
“Wait till I see the champion’s prize.”
Beside him, Lei Shuang and Zhang Tianyang wore identical excited expressions.
Even Lin Qi, watching nearby, calculated coldly: Hundreds of kilograms of Grade 8 flesh would push me to Sixth Realm Peak.
The championship… is mine.
Mountain and River King raised a hand, silencing the crowd.
“One competitor will advance automatically.”
“The remaining 62 will vie for 31 slots.”
A silver moon rose from the holographic mountains, condensing into a name:
Bye: Shen Heng (Xia Kingdom)
The crowd barely blinked at Shen Heng’s automatic pass. All eyes fixed on the newly formed battles—62 names rearranged into 31 matches within a swirling ink-taiji diagram.
…
(End of Chapter)
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