Chapter 979: Chapter 979

The crowd below the stage was shocked at the scene unfolding before them.

"How is this possible!"

After all, these elite fighters from the Five Mountains were the pinnacle of martial arts in China, yet they were defeated in a single move.

The hearts of the Chinese martial artists sank to the depths of despair, their faces pale as they stared at Fuma Ichiro. His strength was terrifying beyond belief!

Among the five, Zhang Yu was the least injured. Although he had taken a wound to his shoulder, thanks to the Formation, he managed to sustain only minor injuries and still retained his combat power.

As for the other four, they were grievously injured but were barely holding their ground, refusing to fall.

"Damn it, what kind of sinister Cultivation Technique is this guy using? You can't even see him making his moves!"

Zhang Yu gazed intently at Fuma Ichiro, his expression heavy.

"You all get off the stage—I'll hold him off," Zhang Yu said coldly, keeping his eyes fixed on Fuma Ichiro.

"But Zhang Yu!" The other four hesitated.

"Hurry up! If you don't leave, none of us will!" Zhang Yu shouted at them.

The four, knowing their injuries made them a burden, reluctantly retreated and prepared to leave the stage.

However, Fuma Ichiro's face twisted into a bloodthirsty smirk. "Afraid now, are we? Thinking of running away? Too late! None of you will leave here alive. You're all going to die here."

With his words echoing, Fuma Ichiro charged at them with his bloodied blade.

"Eight Trigrams Array!"

Zhang Yu's expression shifted. He bit his finger and let a drop of his vital blood melt into the array.

Yet, the instant Fuma Ichiro stepped into the array, he mysteriously vanished.

"Damn it, I've been tricked!" Zhang Yu's face darkened as he quickly turned toward where the others were retreating.

Fuma Ichiro had bypassed the array and appeared before the four martial artists who were preparing to flee.

"Chinese ants, I told you—you're dying here today. All of you, perish!"

Fuma Ichiro's eyes brimmed with killing intent, as he raised his blood blade high and brought it down upon the four Chinese elites.

Instantly, blade shadows surged and engulfed the four.

Faced with the gleaming blade light before them, the four martial artists' faces were consumed by despair.

Never in their wildest dreams did they think that, as the best of China's major sects, they couldn't even withstand a single blow.

Utterly defenseless, the four closed their eyes and awaited death.

But then, a sudden light glimmered in the sky, shielding them from the descending blade shadows.

However, every time a blade shadow struck, Zhang Yu's face grew paler.

At last, the light barrier shattered under the relentless blade shadows. Zhang Yu staggered back four or five steps and spat out a mouthful of vital blood.

"So it's you again? Kid, you're the strongest martial artist from China I've ever faced, actually able to block my blood blade. Pity that today, you're all dying here," Fuma Ichiro sneered as he raised his blade to attack again.

The five martial artists immediately felt their bodies enveloped in a suffocating murderous aura, their scalp tingling. Instinctively, they retreated explosively.

But Fuma Ichiro's speed far outstripped theirs. In mere moments, he appeared before Dragon Tiger Mountain's Zhao Hu.

Zhao Hu's face changed drastically as he hastily raised his iron staff to block overhead.

To everyone's disbelief, the iron staff made of refined steel in Zhao Hu's hands was sliced cleanly in half by Fuma Ichiro's blood blade.

Following through, the blood blade descended fiercely, slashing into Zhao Hu's chest.

Blood sprayed forth. Zhao Hu staggered backward, coughing up blood violently before collapsing to the ground.

"Splurt, splurt, splurt!"

In the blink of an eye, Zhang Yu and the remaining three elite fighters also fell under Fuma Ichiro's blade strikes.

The five were struck down in an instant by Fuma Ichiro's blood blade, collapsing one after another. The faces of the watching Chinese martial artists revealed anguish and despair.

No one had imagined that even with the combined might of the Five Mountains' best, they would suffer such a crushing defeat.

Fuma Ichiro's strength was overwhelming, akin to a demon reincarnated. His sheer power filled everyone present with horror, fear, and utter hopelessness.

Standing over the fallen five, Fuma Ichiro curled his lips into a sinister smile.

His blood blade dripped steadily, as he swept a contemptuous glance toward the direction of the Chinese martial artists.

"I said it before: killing Chinese martial artists is as easy as squashing ants. Now I'll have you watch as the heads of your so-called heroes roll, one by one."

Watching Fuma Ichiro raise his blade, the elders of the Five Mountains were filled with grief. These young elites were the prodigies painstakingly nurtured by their sects. Losing them here would be a devastating blow to the sects.

Finally setting aside their pride, the elders surged onto the stage in an attempt to halt Fuma Ichiro.

But alas, they were still some distance away and didn't have time to act, forced to helplessly watch as Fuma Ichiro's blade descended toward the fallen warriors.

The elders stared at the descending blood blade, their faces pale, hearts heavy with anguish and helplessness.

None of them had anticipated that the very foundation of China's martial world would crumble at the hands of this Island Nation demon.

Blood shadows formed as Fuma Ichiro's blood blade slashed downward from the air.

"I never thought I'd die here! If Lin Chen had stepped in, maybe it wouldn't have ended this badly!" Zhang Yu's face filled with despair as he glanced toward where Lin Chen had been earlier—but the area was now empty.

Right as the blade was about to strike Zhang Yu's neck, it suddenly stopped just inches from his chest.

Everyone was stunned by the sight, their disbelief growing as they realized the blood blade had been caught mid-swing—by an individual's bare hand.

The audience instantly fell silent, mouths agape, stunned by the scene before them.

"How is this possible? This person actually caught Fuma Ichiro's blood blade with his bare hand."

That blood blade had carved through Zhao Hu's refined steel with ease!

The elders of the Five Mountains and the surrounding martial artists from various countries were all astounded, their eyes fixed with shock on the young man who had suddenly appeared on the stage.

Soon, someone recognized the individual who had stopped the blade—it was none other than the young man many had mocked earlier.

Those who had ridiculed Lin Chen before now wore faces flushed with embarrassment, recalling how they had laughed at him as worthless, a coward. Yet now, Lin Chen had utterly silenced them.

Facing a supreme powerhouse, Lin Chen managed to catch the blood blade barehanded. His strength was nothing short of extraordinary.

"Lin Chen, you finally decided to act," Zhang Yu said with a bitter smile.

Lin Chen smiled faintly. "Don't worry, I'll make that guy pay for his blood debts."

"Take them down and tend to their wounds," Lin Chen said calmly to the elders of the Five Mountains behind him.

The elders looked at Lin Chen with gratitude. After all, these young elites were the foundation of their sects. If Lin Chen hadn't stepped in, they wouldn't have been able to face their sects upon returning.

The elders carried the injured fighters off the stage, only then did Lin Chen release Fuma Ichiro's blood blade.

Fuma Ichiro's face was dark and grim. He had tried countless times to retrieve his blood blade earlier, but Lin Chen's grip was like an iron vice, completely immovable despite all his effort.

"Who are you?" Fuma Ichiro asked coldly.

"You don't recognize me? I'm Lin Chen—the guy everybody loves, the bane of Island Nation scum!" Lin Chen eyed Fuma Ichiro with mockery, speaking in a calm tone.