Chapter 178: This Sky Will Belong to Me

“It’s him…” At that moment, Zong Hentian’s expression changed as he looked at the figure rising from Jiuxiao Sect.

“Who is he?” Lin Fan asked.

“He is a prodigy disciple from Jiuxiao Sect, extremely powerful. I saw him once in the forbidden area before, and he was formidable,” Zong Hentian said, now feeling uncertain.

At first, he hadn’t paid much attention, but now that the name was mentioned, he recalled the details.

In the first match, the Holy Sect had suffered a crushing defeat, which affected their morale. Originally, Zong Hentian had planned to take the second match to secure a win and stabilize the sect’s momentum. But now, it seemed far from simple.

“Senior brothers, I failed,” Chou Tian said, walking over with his head bowed, clearly upset about his loss and frustrated at having faced Xin Feng so early.

“Don’t blame yourself, junior brother. Xin Feng is likely only someone at the level of our elders who could stand against him. The fact that you had the courage to face him is already a great victory,” Zong Hentian replied.

“I understand,” Chou Tian nodded, then looked at Zong Hentian. “Senior brother, it’s your turn next. Do your best.”

Zong Hentian nodded, though he felt uncertain about his chances.

Lin Fan looked at Feng Xiaoling from Jiuxiao Sect. Judging from Zong Hentian’s current strength, winning this match would be extremely difficult, with very little chance of success.

Feng Xiaoling’s strength, although not as formidable as Xin Feng’s, was still formidable.

Damn it.

The more Lin Fan thought about it, the more frustrated he became. Why did the Holy Sect seem so weak compared to other sects?

But recalling Mi Qiongqi, Lin Fan finally understood.

If Mi Qiongqi hadn’t made any mistakes, he would have been invincible among the prodigy disciples, unbeatable. Even Xin Feng might not have been his equal. But now, since Mi Qiongqi had erred and was subdued by Lin Fan, leaving him unable to participate in the competition, there was naturally no one left to dominate the opposing side.

“Brother Wuya, although Feng Xiaoling may not be as strong as your disciple, he is still one of the top prodigies in our sect. I’m afraid your disciple is destined to lose,” Liang Yichu said with a smile.

Wuya glanced at the Sect Leader, whose expression remained calm and serene despite the loss of their disciple. He sighed, “Who will win or lose is still uncertain, Brother Yichu. Don’t be too confident; even the unexpected can happen.”

“That’s impossible,” Liang Yichu waved his hand dismissively. There was no way they could win, given the clear difference in cultivation levels.

…

“Hentian, how confident are you about winning?” Lin Fan asked.

“About thirty percent,” Zong Hentian hesitated for a moment before giving the most optimistic estimate.

Zong Hentian wasn’t a modest person. If victory were certain, he wouldn’t be so anxious. The problem was that he truly had no confidence.

In the forbidden area, Zong Hentian hadn’t fought him directly, but he had seen him in action and knew how strong he was.

“Junior, I can guarantee you a win, but it will come at a cost,” Lin Fan said. Although the final match was supposed to be his, losing two matches in a row would be problematic. At the very least, they needed a draw.

“Master, whatever it takes, I can endure it,” Zong Hentian said, looking at Lin Fan with determination. As long as he could win, no amount of hardship would be too much for him to bear.

Seeing Zong Hentian’s resolute expression, Lin Fan finally nodded and gestured, “Come on, surround us.”

Although the other prodigy disciples didn’t understand what Lin Fan was planning, they followed his instructions and surrounded him and Zong Hentian, blocking the view from the outside.

At this moment, Lin Fan tore off his sleeve, “Come on, stuff this in your mouth so you don’t scream.”

Lin Fan was about to unleash a ruthless method on his own disciple.

The “Testicle-Kicking Technique” had two effects: the first was to instantly incapacitate the opponent, and the second was to trigger a state of frenzy, unleashing all their strength.

Although the effects differed, the pain was identical.

Seeing Lin Fan’s serious expression, Zong Hentian took a few deep breaths, stuffed the sleeve into his mouth, and nodded firmly to signal Lin Fan to proceed.

“Spread your legs!” Lin Fan commanded.

Without hesitation, Zong Hentian immediately complied.

At this moment, Lin Fan’s expression subtly changed. He fixed his gaze on Zong Hentian’s crotch and began calculating angles, force, and other factors.

Zong Hentian’s forehead began to sweat—not from pain, but from the intense nervousness he felt. He didn’t know what Lin Fan was about to do to him or what method he would use to ensure a guaranteed victory.

But judging from Lin Fan’s serious expression, he knew it wouldn’t be simple.

“Okay, endure it,” Lin Fan said. In an instant, his eyes flashed with sharpness, and the “Castration Kick” erupted with unstoppable might, tearing through layers of虚空 toward Zong Hentian’s groin.

“Bang…”

A dull sound echoed at that moment. Zong Hentian’s body trembled violently, as if he had momentarily lost his breath.

His previously slightly ruddy face turned bright red, his neck veins bulging, his eyes filled with bloodshot veins, and even his breathing became rapid.

Zong Hentian slowly removed the sleeve from his mouth, then closed his legs tightly, his body slightly bent forward, mouth agape, as if he had many things to say but couldn’t utter a single word through the pain.

“Good, endure it. Hold in that pain and charge forward to defeat your opponent,” Lin Fan knew Zong Hentian was in excruciating pain, but if he wanted victory, he had to endure.

“Please, both of you, come to the stage,” the elder shouted.

Feng Xiaoling smiled, gracefully floating onto the platform with his long hair fluttering. His handsome face was accentuated by his elegant gesture of flicking open a folding fan with two fingers.

This aura and posture made countless people feel inferior.

The female disciples of the Holy Sect, though there to cheer for their sect, were now captivated by Feng Xiaoling, who seemed like a god descending from the heavens.

“What a handsome young man,” Lu Mingyang, seated on the platform, couldn’t help but exclaim.

Hearing this, Liang Yichu smiled, “He is the top-ranked disciple in our sect’s Handsomeness Rankings, the ideal partner in the hearts of countless female disciples. He possesses both strength and beauty, a perfect disciple.”

Seeing Liang Yichu so smug, Elder Wuya shot Lu Mingyang a glare. Wasn’t this boosting the enemy’s morale while demoralizing their own?

Lu Mingyang, seeing Elder Wuya’s gaze, could only smile helplessly in response.

At this moment, Zong Hentian stepped onto the stage.

But an astonishing sight unfolded.

Zong Hentian walked with his legs tightly together, as if something was wrong with them, struggling to reach the stage. His comical appearance made Elder Wuya frown in disapproval, unable to watch directly.

Shameful, the sect’s face was utterly lost.

“Brother Wuya, the way this disciple from your sect entered the stage is indeed unique, a once-in-a-thousand-years sight,” Liang Yichu laughed loudly.

“Haha… Is that guy sick?” The prodigy disciples from Jiuxiao Sect burst into laughter, pointing at Zong Hentian.

“It seems the Holy Sect truly has a wealth of talents.”

…

At this moment, Zong Hentian felt that keeping his legs tightly together was the only way to alleviate his pain.

As for Lin Fan’s method, Zong Hentian hadn’t yet experienced any difference—aside from the pain in his groin, there was no enhancement.

But he believed his master wouldn’t deceive him.

Lin Fan had told him:

At the moment you stand straight with your legs apart, this heaven will belong to me, Zong Hentian.