Han Li turned his head to glance at Sect Leader Wang. Wang Juechu’s expression was grim as he discussed something with three unfamiliar men beside him, all bearing the marks of time on their faces. It seemed the golden light emanating from the dwarf was proving to be a troublesome matter.
The golden light on the dwarf flickered once more. With a sinister chuckle, he tilted his head back, nostrils flaring arrogantly, and declared, “I will stand right here and let you attack me as you please. If any of you can break my Vajra Indestructibility Art, I might just spare your miserable lives.”
His taunting laughter filled the air, further enraging the Seven Mysteries Sect disciples who had initially been wary of the golden barrier. Several skilled martial artists surged forward, eager to charge at the dwarf, but Sect Leader Wang stopped them with a raised hand.
Wang Juechu waved, recalling the remaining guardians from the field. He then whispered something to the burliest of the three men beside him. The man nodded and strode confidently toward the dwarf, stopping directly in front of him.
The dwarf glared at the bearded man before him, a venomous glint in his eyes. Since childhood, he had been mocked for his stunted physique, and he harbored a deep-seated hatred for tall, imposing figures. This man fell squarely within the scope of his resentment, and the dwarf was already contemplating the cruelest methods to torture him.
Despite his rugged, bare-chested appearance and thick beard, the man was no brute. He was one of Wang Juechu’s three martial uncles, already past sixty years of age. A once-renowned fierce general of the Seven Mysteries Sect, he had faced countless enemies and knew better than to act recklessly against such a peculiar golden barrier.
After carefully examining the golden light and the dwarf within, the bearded man cracked a smile. He extended two fingers and lightly tapped the barrier, producing a clear, metallic *clang*.
The dwarf, infuriated by this dismissive gesture, snarled, “You oaf! Are you asking for an early death?”
The bearded man remained unfazed. Instead, he sidestepped to the dwarf’s flank, then swiftly moved behind him. Circling the dwarf with increasing speed, his figure soon became a blur, impossible to track clearly.
Dizzy and enraged by the man’s relentless circling, the dwarf instinctively reached into his robe, as if searching for something.
The bearded man, still moving rapidly, noticed the gesture. Suddenly, he let out a long roar—a sound akin to a dragon’s cry or a tiger’s roar—powerful and sustained, reverberating across Sunset Peak. The ears of everyone present rang, and even the leaves on nearby trees trembled.
The roar left the dwarf momentarily weakened, his hand stuck in his robe, unable to withdraw it.
Then, a series of crisp, loud cracking sounds erupted from the bearded man’s joints, growing increasingly rapid until they drowned out the roar altogether. As the man circled back to the dwarf’s front, his movement halted abruptly, and both the roar and the joint cracks ceased simultaneously.
As the dazed onlookers regained their senses, they noticed the man’s body had expanded significantly, his chest and arm muscles bulging like black, polished iron. Compared to the dwarf, he now seemed like a giant.
Seizing the moment, the dwarf finally retrieved a long, black wooden box from his robe. A talisman was affixed to its surface, seemingly sealing its contents.
Before the dwarf could tear off the talisman, the giant-like man swung a massive, fan-like palm and struck the golden barrier with tremendous force. The impact caused the golden light to waver and distort, shaking the dwarf and preventing him from removing the talisman.
A flicker of fear crossed the dwarf’s face. He knew the power of his golden barrier well—for someone to deform it required unimaginable strength. All traces of arrogance vanished as he frantically tried to tear off the talisman.
With a *rip*, the talisman finally came off.
Just as a triumphant smile began to form on the dwarf’s face, a series of violent *thuds* echoed from the barrier. The relentless impacts shook him uncontrollably, and he eventually lost his balance, collapsing to the ground.
To his horror, the bearded man was now attacking the barrier with both fists and feet, launching a storm of blows. The golden light warped and distorted like kneaded dough, bending inward and outward under the assault. It seemed on the verge of shattering at any moment.
Panicked, the dwarf abandoned all pretense of composure and began reciting incantations, his hands fumbling through mudras. But in his flustered state, he made error after error, and the black box remained unresponsive.
Watching from behind, Jia Tianlong was stunned. On one hand, he was exasperated by the dwarf’s incompetence; on the other, he was awed by the martial prowess of Wang Juechu’s martial uncle. He had personally tested the strength of the dwarf’s golden barrier—it was impervious to blades, immune to fire and water, as hard as diamond. Yet now, it trembled and deformed under this man’s relentless assault.
This was unbelievable! The man’s skills were truly unfathomable.
A sense of regret washed over Jia Tianlong as he realized two other experts of similar caliber stood on the opposite side. For the first time, he questioned his rash agreement to this death duel. Now he understood why the Seven Mysteries Sect had been so confident. With three monstrously powerful experts backing them, anyone would be eager to fight to the death.
His eyes shifted to the dwarf, who was clearly at a disadvantage. Jia Tianlong wondered if he should send someone to assist the so-called immortal master. Otherwise, the dwarf might die without even showcasing his famed flying sword technique.
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