Chapter 629: Chapter 629
From transcending the supernatural to entering the holy, its dominance was absolute. The title of Holy Fist hung in the Covert Martial Arts world like a blazing sun in the heavens, the goal everyone looked up to and pursued.
Countless top‑tier combat artists had swept whole regions in their youth, brimming with brilliance. Yet in old age, they could never touch that sun's outline. They could only bask in its enchanting light and sigh helplessly.
Across the whole Covert Martial Arts world, no matter the sect or nation, if one harbored the ultimate martial dream, this was the very moment that would thrill them beyond measure. Some would say that even though they know they'd never reach that ultimate realm, simply catching a glimpse of it was worthwhile.
For some who were obsessed with that peak, being able to see that realm's splendor once was infinite fulfillment. They dared not ask for more. After all, Holy Fists were so rare that several eras may pass before one appeared.
Many among them stayed discreetly in seclusion. Some even broke through without the outside world knowing. To see a Holy Fist with one's own eyes was unimaginably difficult. This was especially true in the current Hongli Federation era, where the Covert Martial Arts scene had waned and top‑tier combat artists grew scarcer with each generation. Holy Fists were even rarer in modern times.
When the Golem Sect's master revealed his Holy Fist realm at the Federal Combat Championships, it was like a bomb that drove many Covert Martial Arts Practitioners mad. These fighters were true martial fanatics who lived for practice. Their obsession with the peak realm verged on insanity.
The tournament's ultimate prize is so alluring that it hit like gunpowder.
Tsk, to discuss the Dao with a living Holy Fist! Just picturing it made one's blood surge!
"Go all out! We must go all out!"
"The insights of a Holy Fist, what a treasure among treasures!"
"To behold the Holy Fist realm just once... My life is without regret..."
"Fight fight fight fight fight fight!"
A band of martial maniacs trembled all over with fists clenched. Their faces flushed as though they'd achieved a life goal. Many resolved to become the tournament champion no matter what. Even if they couldn't win, they would join Golem Sect afterward. They would forsake their original sects with centuries‑old inheritances just to draw closer to the living Holy Fist!
Besides the fanatics, several white‑haired yet formidable elders straightened their backs, stretching their hands like men returned to their prime. They were not fanatics, but equally driven by deep obsession.
Each had trained for at least fifty years. Their Qi and blood had waned with age and their progress had stalled before a bottleneck. How painful. But the Golem Sect's master had personally promised that one training session could let a veteran combat artist break through to top‑tier, and a top‑tier to reach extreme. A Holy Fist's pledge was as weighty as a mountain.
Any elder with a spark left in him felt his decaying heart reignite. Their gazes burned like torches as they scanned their opponents. Of course, the core disciples of every major sect were boiling too because the tournament would crown not one but two winners. The arenas were split into two brackets—one above combat artist and one below combat artist. That meant there would be two champions.
Though they couldn't outfight elder combat artists, dueling peers of the same tier was not hopeless. They all remembered Cassius's promised prize was not just a breakthrough but also a roadmap for their future path. The scenery ahead would be a wide open path. Youngsters could stride ahead without the usual nerve‑racking struggle.
From breaking through to combat artist onward—new, veteran, top‑tier, even extreme, what to do and how to train would be crystal clear. They will be able to dodge countless traps and detours!
Thus, the tournament's ultimate prize was without doubt an adrenaline injection. Every person in every sect had been stirred.
One look at the roaring, blistering atmosphere inside Radiance Hall proved that the tournament had succeeded. It was successful beyond measure. The name of the Golem Sect was sure to sweep across the world.
Soon, the tournament formally began, starting with lot‑drawn bouts. There were various formats from gauntlet fights to personal duels.
Gauntlet fights showcased inter‑sect strength and were tied to lesser prizes, not the ultimate reward. Personal duels were the main event. Each prodigy fought for himself and showed no mercy even to a fellow disciple until the final victor emerged. These formats made up the youth bracket below combat artist.
The format for combat artists upward was simpler. There were only a few combat artists and were largely sect masters and elders. Hence, there were no gauntlet fights, only straightforward individual matches. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel·fıre·net
Names would be drawn; lose and you're out, win and you advance.
The entire tournament was scheduled for seven days. The first five were for youth events, while the last two were for combat artist events. All matches from the youth finals onward would be held at the Golem Sect headquarters. Combat artists battling at full force were too destructive to fight in the bustling East Sea City.
The tournament continued running from October 1 to October 4. In those four days, core disciples from major sects showed superb skill, displaying every facet of Covert Martial Arts. There were nimble sway steps, peerless hardened body arts, and bizarre phantom fists.
Some wielded peerless mastery, overwhelming foes by force. Others dazzled with a hundred‑fold array that was dizzyingly complex. Every style and trait was perfectly showcased.
The audience's eyes feasted on the spectacle. Even the Eastern Eight Sects, veterans of the Eastern Exchange Tournament, were wide‑eyed as repeated surprises came up in the tournament. They even felt ashamed, feeling the scale of their exchange tournament was far too small.
Numerous unseen sects and experts shone dazzlingly at the Federal Combat Championships. It just added to the event's momentum.
The news that Cassius, Golem Sect's master, was a living Holy Fist spread like wildfire. It was a stone stirring a thousand ripples. The uproar in Covert Martial Arts even rippled into the seldom‑connected supernatural world.
Even minor supernatural forces there heard half‑understood rumors. A peerless powerhouse called a Holy Fist had appeared in the Covert Martial Arts world. He was rightfully the world's number one!
Against this backdrop, Golem Sect's growth became even crazier. Golem Sect martial halls sprang up across the Hongli Federation's six eastern counties, leaving the Eastern Eight Sects no room to fight back. After all, how could rabbits rival a tiger? With a Holy Fist backing them, no matter how huge or savage the expansion, would the eight sects dare touch the martial halls now? Try and they'd die!
Thus, Golem Sect martial halls shot up everywhere like bamboo after rain. Many martial lovers were amazed. In just days, a grand, imposing dojo appeared on Martial Street. It poached the clientele and even premises of other halls, but no one dared cause trouble.
Instead, it only grew more prosperous over time. The Golem Sect was also pushing into the west, south, and north, and even planning branches on other continents. Such was the confidence the world's sole Holy Fist granted them! A sweeping tide has already started.