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Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 83: Chapter 82: King of the White Tower (Part 4)_1 (Page 2/2)

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His opponent was a bald muscleman with muscles bulging like Qiong knots, his face covered with crisscrossed scars, looking extremely fierce.

Of course, these were not the main points; it was obvious that the man was a Transcendent.

Almost the instant he stepped onto the stage, his fists burst forth with a flame-like heat.

In such a situation, the spirited young man knew he was not a match, but clearly, he didn’t want to give up without a fight.

So he braced himself with utmost attention, closely watching his opponent’s every move in an attempt to hold out a while longer.

However, his opponent did not give him the chance to do so.

Accompanied by a streak of fire, the young man was blasted away, rolling to the edge of the ring before finally coming to a stop.

By this point, his entire upper arm was completely deformed and charred, and he had promptly passed out.

This was the result of his quick reaction, raising his arm in front of his body at the first sign of attack.

According to the rules, losing consciousness like this didn’t count as a surrender or defeat, and he could still enjoy the promised conditions, namely getting a permanent pass.

Perhaps that was what he was thinking.

Luckily for him, his opponent was equally disdainful of delivering a coup de grâce; after just one punch he stood in place, his gaze fixed on the referee, waiting for the announcement of the result.

But the referee hesitated to act and instead stared at the fallen spirited young man.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1—

Five seconds later, a jolt ran through the young man’s body, and a yellow-white flame burst forth from his arm, swiftly engulfing his entire body, reducing him to a charred husk.

Only then did the referee nonchalantly declare the bald man victorious amidst a more fervent cheer from the stands, utterly satisfied.

As expected!

Fu Qian shook his head.

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What cannot be attained by force cannot be attained by reason either.

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This one was still naïve.

Fu Qian glanced to the side, where the spirited young man’s Female Priestess expressionlessly gathered their belongings, preparing to send them back along with his ashes.

At this moment, Fu Qian heard someone calling his name; his second match was about to begin.

As expected, once on the stage, Fu Qian saw the charred marks of the spirited young man in the corner.

It was clear that the cleaners had been very diligent, but they still couldn’t scrape it all away.

By now, his second opponent had already taken the stage early, looking provocatively this way.

“3, 2—”

Before the referee had finished counting down, a black shadow, carrying a cold gleam, had already charged forth, moving as unpredictably as a ghost.

Fu Qian looked up at the referee, who was completely indifferent to the proceedings.

I see, Fu Qian suddenly recalled the rules of the Ring Islands—the absence of prohibitions permits all actions.

The referee indeed was counting down, but the rules announced earlier did not mandate that the round could only begin after the countdown ended.

As his ferocious opponent charged at him, Fu Qian twisted his body, raised his foot, and charged his strength.

Boom!

In a deafening roar that shook the heavens and the earth, half of the ring collapsed, a pit nearly ten times larger than before appearing before everyone’s eyes.

Within the pit lay two mangled corpses.

If I remember correctly, the rules also did not state that one could not kill the referee.

After a two-second silence, the stands erupted with a climax-like cheer.

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