Chapter 978: Chapter 978

"Wang Hao, well done!"

"This is what represents the true strength of our China!"

Seeing Wang Hao rush onto the arena, the Chinese martial artists grew excited once more.

At first, everyone had placed their hopes on Lin Chen.

However, after Lin Chen arrived, everyone quickly realized that this youngster didn't exude the aura of a true powerhouse at all.

His presence was practically indistinguishable from that of an average person.

A boy like that—how could he possibly defeat the formidable Four Titans of Wind, Rain, Thunder, and Lightning?

Thus, those martial artists who had initially pinned their hopes on Lin Chen now regarded him with disdain and focused all their attention on Wang Hao, who had stepped onto the stage.

Watching Wang Hao ascend the platform, Elder Changshan's face turned ashen, while Long Yin's eyes were filled with deep concern.

Yet Wang Hao had already stepped onto the stage—bringing him back at this point was no longer realistic.

"Hmph, I thought Lin Chen might be someone extraordinary, but it turns out he's just a coward hiding in his shell."

"All those tales from the martial world about him must be nonsense. His aura isn't even stronger than mine, yet he dares to call himself a powerhouse."

"It's a good thing he's not competing; otherwise, he'd utterly disgrace us Chinese people." The martial artists began mocking Lin Chen.

Their expressions toward Lin Chen were filled with contempt. In their eyes, the courageous Wang Hao was the true hero.

Seeing this, Long Yin looked speechless. Just as he was about to explain something, Lin Chen casually waved his hand, found himself an empty spot, and sat down, his gaze directed toward the arena.

On the stage, the staff had come to clean up the corpses. Wang Hao placed the severed head he held back onto the neck of the recently deceased martial artist, his face resolute. "Li Guang, rest easy. I promise I'll make this Island Nation fiend pay a blood debt for yours!"

As Wang Hao took the stage, Wind's face lit up with a mocking smile. "Oh, another worthless contestant? Don't rush—your end will be even more miserable than his!"

Feng Mo Ichiro held a blood-stained katana, his eyes brimming with murderous intent as he stared coldly at Wang Hao.

Wang Hao, wielding his treasured sword, stood gallantly on the stage. "You Island Nation scum, you've slaughtered so many of our Chinese martial artists. Today, I'll use your blood to avenge them!"

"You? Don't be ridiculous. I'll make your head roll within three moves." Feng Mo Ichiro spoke dismissively, sneering at Wang Hao.

"You're far too arrogant!" Wang Hao replied coldly.

"Arrogant? No, no, no. To be honest, I could kill you in just one strike. But since you seem gutsy, I'll grant you special treatment—I'll take my time to make you suffer. Imagine watching helplessly as your limbs are chopped off. How does that feel?" Feng Mo Ichiro sneered sinisterly.

Upon hearing Feng Mo Ichiro's words, the Chinese martial artist spectators exploded in an uproar.

"Good grief, this guy is way too brazen! Does he actually think our Chinese martial arts are weak, letting him slice and dice as he pleases?"

"Exactly, Feng Mo Ichiro is outright bullying us!"

The Chinese martial artists were indignant, their anger blazing.

Wang Hao, trembling with rage, infused Spiritual Energy into his sword.

"Bastard, today I'll show you the power of Shushan Swordsmanship!"

With that, Wang Hao pushed off the ground, his treasured sword drawing countless Sword Intents to encompass Feng Mo Ichiro in an instant.

Wang Hao unleashed Shushan Swordsmanship's strongest strike right away—"Ten Thousand Swords Vanquish Evil!"

As the Sword Intents enveloped Feng Mo Ichiro, the arena erupted in a chorus of exclamation. The Chinese martial artists cheering for Wang Hao were brimming with excitement.

Elder Changshan watched Wang Hao execute "Ten Thousand Swords Vanquish Evil," a hint of admiration appearing on his face. This youngster had actually mastered the technique.

But Lin Chen merely shook his head. "This sword technique may appear overwhelmingly lethal, but its foundation is unstable, its force insufficient, and its energy uneven. It's riddled with flaws—a single strike spells defeat!"

Lin Chen's words were like cold water pouring over the jubilant Chinese martial artists, turning their faces sour.

"Kid, whose side are you on? Stop inflating the enemy's morale while crushing our own spirits!"

"Hmph, what an ignorant frog in a well. Do you have any idea how powerful Senior Brother Wang Hao's 'Ten Thousand Swords Vanquish Evil' is?"

"Idiot, open your eyes and watch carefully. Shushan Swordsmanship's might isn't something a bumpkin like you could possibly fathom!"

The martial artists berated Lin Chen. But no sooner had their voices died down than a gut-wrenching scream echoed from the arena.

When everyone directed their gaze toward the stage, they were instantly stunned by the scene before them.

On the stage, Wang Hao's right hand had been severed, his treasured sword dropping into a pool of blood alongside his mangled hand.

"How is this even possible?!"

Mere moments ago, everyone had witnessed Feng Mo Ichiro engulfed by Sword Intents. How had he managed to break free and slice off Wang Hao's hand?

Recalling Feng Mo Ichiro's earlier words—one strike to sever the hand—a shiver crept into everyone's hearts.

Wang Hao's talents placed him among the best of China's younger generation.

Yet he had lost his hand in a single move to Feng Mo Ichiro. Just how powerful was this man?

Wang Hao clutched his severed arm, his face pale. Gone was the composed demeanor he had shown moments earlier. His entire body trembled as he stared at Feng Mo Ichiro in horror.

A mere flash of the blade had rendered Wang Hao's right hand numb, and what terrified him most was that he hadn't even seen Feng Mo Ichiro make his move.

"Kid, now you know fear. Too late, though!"

As the words fell, a flash of the blade followed.

Blood splattered everywhere as Wang Hao's legs were brutally severed, his body collapsing heavily onto the ground.

Wang Hao writhed in agony, letting out blood-curdling screams.

The grotesque display left everyone frozen in terror. No one could have foreseen such a gruesome fate for the once-renowned Wang Hao.

A bloodthirsty smile crept across Feng Mo Ichiro's lips. "Hahaha, now do you see the gulf between us? You Chinese are nothing but ants—nothing but cowards!"

Wang Hao, bathed in blood, howled in misery.

The spectators were chilled to the bone, staring at Feng Mo Ichiro as if he were a monster.

"That guy isn't human. He's a demon!"

"Die now, boy!" Feng Mo Ichiro snarled, lifting his katana high and aiming for Wang Hao's throat.

"Let's fight him together!"

The remaining young talents from five great martial sects could no longer endure the slaughter. Together, they charged onto the platform.

Feng Mo Ichiro abruptly paused, looking at the attacking group with a mocking grin, his lips curling into a bloodthirsty smirk.

"Ba Ga, all coming to die together? Even better—it saves me the trouble of dealing with you one by one."

With that, Feng Mo Ichiro's gaze hardened. He moved with lightning speed, swinging his katana as he lunged at the five challengers.

"That Feng Mo Ichiro must be insane—he's really going to take on all five at once!" The crowd was instantly shaken.

The five young elite warriors from the five renowned mountain sects charged in, their eyes burning with murder as they swung their weapons toward Feng Mo Ichiro.

However, to everyone's horror, the clash was over before it had truly begun.

Feng Mo Ichiro's katana, like golden streaks of lightning, enveloped the five warriors in an instant.

"Splatter, splatter!"

Five streaks of blood erupted, and the five young warriors staggered backward in retreat.

Steadying themselves, all five wore pallid expressions. Each bore a gaping, blood-soaked wound on their bodies.

Watching the crimson blood trickling down their forms, everyone was utterly dumbfounded.