Returning to the Mysterious Era-Chapter 371 - Sect Master Hugo, I Want to Challenge You!

At 8:30 in the morning, the elders’ sparring had already begun.

It was simply a sparring session and not an all-out fight so it wasn't even as intense as the previous core disciples’ battles and individual matches. After all, the elders of each sect were powerful. If they fought seriously, it might be hard to stop, so it was better to keep it amicable.

As for the real fighting, they would leave that to the disciples.

On the first floor of the Black Pupil Tower, sunlight filtered through the tinted glass, casting rectangular golden patches on the ground. Occasionally, mottled shadows of trees projected in, swaying gently.

The audience seats were packed with disciples and instructors from various sects. They stared intently at arena one, eager to see how the usually low-key elders would perform when they actually made a move. Even if they wouldn't go all out, it was still highly anticipated.

This time, there were no official referees or any set rules. It was simply two elders making eye contact and then going up to the arena for a bout. Alternatively, an elder could issue a challenge request and the challenged elder could choose to accept.

"Parsi, let me see if you've made any progress in these four years," an old man with entirely white eyebrows suddenly issued an invitation.

Following his gaze, there stood a middle-aged man in black combat attire. His appearance was ordinary, with short hair like steel needles. He exuded a dangerous aura.

"Since Elder Obi invites me, I naturally dare not refuse..." The middle-aged man with deep eyes stood up swiftly.

From their conversation, it was clear they had some private grudges, though probably not too deep. If they were to settle it through a private duel, a minor disagreement might escalate due to someone getting hurt or losing.

However, at an occasion like the Eastern Exchange Tournament, it was just right. With over a dozen combat artists watching to prevent any unexpected incidents and the mutual understanding that the last day's sparring was meant to be a friendly exchange, both would restrain themselves—not just in strength but also in temper. Therefore, the elders' sparring on the last day of the tournament had some significance. Sometimes, it could even resolve certain conflicts.

"Elder Obi of Red Arm Fist and Elder Parsi of Void Sun Sect. Two combat artists facing off? We're in for a treat..." In the audience section reserved for the sect elders, some elders commented while others explained the past conflicts between Obi and Parsi.

In the arena, two figures stood on opposite sides. Qi rose slowly around them, causing the air to distort slightly with pressure.

"This... this seems to be the Qi of a combat artist! Our sect master once mentioned about it. It allows one to predict their opponent's moves within the Qi’s range. It’s a very special martial arts perception."

"Our Great Elder once demonstrated it. The first to seventh core disciples attacked him together but were played around. No matter how tricky the angle, they couldn't touch even the hem of his clothes. Instead, they kept getting struck in their weaknesses and ultimately lost..." Some core disciples whispered among themselves.

Bang! Bang!

Two muffled thunderous sounds exploded in the arena as both left and right figures charged forward simultaneously, colliding at the center like racing arrows. Their speed was so fast that they left afterimages in the air, imprinting blurry images on the spectators' retinas.

"They've started fighting! But why can't I see anything..."

"Too fast, their movements are too fast! It’s dazzling."

Some disciples whose eyesight and strength were insufficient said this, while most core disciples concentrated intently, staring at the arena. Although it was still somewhat blurry, they could make out the movements.

The white-browed elder was from Red Arm Fist. After his power erupted, a finger-thick red mark appeared on his aged wrist. Immediately, both his hands swelled and powerful muscles intertwined to bring forth formidable strength.

Every time the white-browed elder's hands sliced through the air, they produced a powerful whoosh.

On the other side was the middle-aged man in black combat attire from Void Sun Sect, practicing the Void Sun Fist Seal. As his body swayed, his tightly clenched fists created an illusion as if seven or eight shadows of fists overlapped together.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Red Arm Fist against the Void Sun Fist Seal. The arena resounded with crackling collision sounds. Due to the high speed and dense rhythm, the sounds of fists striking fists sounded like firecrackers going off.

Both were combat artists with exceptionally rich battle experience. They either clashed head-on, competing in speed and strength, or countered each other's moves, testing precise control. Otherwise, they defended and counterattacked, competing in the ability to seize weaknesses and timing during battle.

It wasn't just fist techniques. There were also numerous techniques involving the elbow, leg and other parts of the body. They moved swiftly across the arena, their shoe soles rubbing against the surface, leaving black marks on the rubber.

Combat artists were on a different level; their attack speed was far more exaggerated than that of pugilists. Perhaps in just one second, they could unleash seven or eight moves, as fast as lightning. So although the fight lasted only half a minute, they might have exchanged hundreds of moves. This was a pure contest of physical prowess and technique.

Neither side used Secret Techniques, killing moves, or Qi.

In the arena, two black whirlwinds ricocheted irregularly like lightning, resembling shifting dark clouds. Occasionally, iron pillars serving as guardrails were blasted away, bearing deep footprints.

"So this is what combat artists are like? Such astonishing destructive power..."

"This is just sparring! The two elders up there aren't going all out. They probably haven't even used fifty percent of their strength..."

"Wow, I really wonder what the destructive power of combat artists going all out is like. I'd love to see it... too bad..."

"See it? Witnessing a life-and-death battle between combat artists as a bystander is courting death. Ordinary people can't even withstand the aftermath! If you ever see combat artists fighting seriously, run away immediately!"

"......"

The audience was abuzz with discussion, obviously quite amazed.

Bang!

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the arena. The two figures flew back violently from the center, spinning a few times in the air before landing steadily. Their images became clear again but their clothes looked slightly disheveled.

One had a pitch-black footprint on his abdomen, the other had a fist mark on his chest. A clash of titans had ended in a draw.

"In these four years, you've indeed made significant progress. Without using Qi and Secret Techniques, you're about on par with me..." The white-browed elder's right hand that was hanging by his side trembled slightly.

"Red Arm Fist is indeed formidable. I've learned a lot." The middle-aged man reached out to wipe a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a figure leaped onto the arena from below. It was none other than Sect Master Hugo of Evil Eye Fist. He intended to act as a referee on the last day of the exchange. Of course, not to determine the winner, but to promptly prevent the fight from becoming too intense.

Now that the sparring between the two in the arena had ended, someone needed to ease the atmosphere and allow both sides to step down gracefully after the fight.

After some remarks and praise, Hugo sent off the two elders of Red Arm Fist and Void Sun Fist Seal. He stood at the edge of the arena, looking towards the elders' seating area, waiting for the sparring to continue.

Unexpectedly, a clear and strong voice came from the disciples' seating area. "Sect Master Hugo, I wonder if I'm qualified to participate in the elders' sparring on this last day of the exchange?"

Whoosh!

Though there was no wind, a wave of Qi blew across the arena powerfully. At the center of the Qi, a handsome young man walked step by step from the passageway. His eyes were sharp as swords and his hair disheveled.

It was Simone! Thunder Dog Simone!

Simone was not wearing the combat attire of Cloud Dog Fist but a simple trench coat. The hem swayed, floating like dark clouds.

"You... a combat artist!!!" In the arena, Hugo's pupils suddenly contracted. As a fellow combat artist, he could easily sense the Qi emanating from Simone. Though immature, it was indeed at the level of a combat artist. That was the unique Qi of a combat artist!

"Simone has broken through to the realm of combat artist?!"

"He has actually crossed the threshold of pugilist!"

"......"

The audience was in an uproar; even the sect elders were discussing incessantly, their gazes continually falling on Simone—some astonished, some appreciative, some shocked, some envious.

He was so young, yet he had already reached the realm of combat artist. His future was probably limitless.

In the crowd, two complex gazes looked at Simone's tall figure. One was Moon Fist Shaq, the other Dead Soul Sword Sid. From this moment on, the title of the Eastern Three Stars was utterly unworthy. Simone was the number one among the younger generation!

The gap was widening, becoming so large that it was difficult to catch up.

A combat artist! Even Shaq and Sid didn't dare say they could cross that threshold with absolute certainty. Yet, Simone had already done it, completely crossing over into that top tier.

Faced with Simone displaying the strength of a combat artist, the reactions from various sects and spectators differed. However, Hugo was overjoyed in his heart—wasn’t this the big headline he had wanted before?

A participant of the Eastern Exchange Tournament had broken through to the realm of combat artist! It was enough to make the entire Eastern Covert Martial Arts community talk about it for the next twenty or thirty years! This solidified Evil Eye Fist's goal of gaining fame. As long as he could contact his media connections, he could quickly get the news...

Hugo's thoughts raced, a smile on his face. He looked down and met Simone's gaze.

"Of course you're qualified. You've just broken through to the realm of combat artist and want to spar with these combat artist elders? After all, it's a rare opportunity to solidify your position as a combat artist. So, which elder do you want to challenge?" Hugo roughly analyzed Simone's thoughts and said.

"I wonder if Sect Master Hugo is willing to exchange a few moves with me..." Simone raised his head and revealed a smile.

"Challenge me? Alright. But let's keep it to a touch-and-go. The rules of sparring are not to use killing moves or Secret Techniques. It's best not to use Qi either, but you can use auxiliary Qi..." Hugo outlined the common understanding, then walked to one side of the arena. Watching Simone below, he leaped up to the other side.

"Simone wants to challenge the Sect Master of Evil Eye Fist! This is getting interesting..."

"Who do you think will win?"

"Nonsense, of course Sect Master Hugo. How can a newly advanced combat artist fight a seasoned one? They're not comparable..."

"But sparring rules prohibit killing moves and Secret Techniques."

"Even without killing moves or Secret Techniques, Sect Master Hugo's battle experience and refined body are definitely much stronger than Simone's."

The discussions in the audience did not cease.

In the arena, the two had already assumed their stances.

Simone stood with legs apart, center of gravity lowered. His right arm extended diagonally forward, left hand loosely clenched across his chest. His sharp gaze locked onto his opponent as his breathing gradually became heavier.

On the other side, Hugo also assumed the starting stance of Evil Eye Fist. His fists clenched tightly, veins snaking across the back of his hands.

Whoosh! Swish!

The two instantly sprinted out, their feet stomping fiercely on the ground. The entire arena surface shook as their figures collided.

Bang!

Simone unleashed a clawing motion from bottom to top, tearing through the air with a whoosh. Hugo's shoulder muscles twitched, and his arm hammered down like a cannonball. Directly colliding with the claw strike, a loud bang was produced.

Simone's palm went numb, but he spun his body around. Using the twisting force, his left arm swung like a windmill—a swift and fierce sweep.

Hugo moved with incredible speed. He ducked swiftly, evading the sweep, then lunged forward.

Taking advantage of Simone's exhausted momentum, he delivered a straight upward elbow strike. Simone crossed his hands in front of his chest but was still pushed back three or four meters, his feet scraping hard against the ground.

A harsh, sharp rubber-squeaking sound echoed.

"Your martial prowess back when you were a pugilist is indeed substantial, stronger than the average newly advanced combat artist. However, it's just by a bit. At the level of combat artist, what truly creates a gap is the accumulation of time and experience..."

"Watch carefully. Let me show you my Evil Eye Fist!" Hugo pressed a palm against Simone's chest, pushing him back over a dozen steps. Then he crouched like a spring, legs bent and spine like a bowstring. He spread his arms horizontally to both sides, the knotted muscles bulging and tensing.

Swish!

A gleam flashed in Hugo's eyes. He instantly vanished from where he stood, appearing in front of Simone the next second.

His hands thrust out explosively, either clenched into fists, palms joined, or loosely gripped into claws. The transitions between moves were incredibly smooth, with no flaws in between each one. The speed was dazzling.

Hugo's suddenly unleashed attack moves enveloped Simone like a black whirlwind. Simone found it hard to parry; at least half the moves weren't blocked, and his body emitted a series of snapping sounds—the muffled impacts on flesh.

"Can't hold on anymore? Then let's end the sparring here..." Hugo sensed Simone's struggle and was about to withdraw.

Bang!

A fist like an iron rod suddenly thrust out from the storm of attacks, smashing fiercely into Hugo's chest. Hugo's pupils contracted.

While shocked, he sensed danger on his left. He quickly raised his arms to block in that direction.

Bang!

A fierce, axe-like violent side kick fell. Hugo's arms went numb. His feet scraped against the ground, sliding back over a dozen meters in parallel. He almost lost his balance.

"You!" He suddenly turned his head, looking towards Simone.

However, he saw the young man with pitch-black eyes expressionlessly assuming a stance once more. It was not the Cloud Dog Fist, but an unfamiliar combat starting form. If the Evil Eye Fist sect master from fifty years ago saw this, he would have cried in shock.

"Southern Dipper Red Falcon Fist!!!"