Chapter 115: The Members of the Sikong Battle Team

Upon hearing the referee announce the start of the match, Gui Lianxie felt a sense of calm return as he recalled his tactical plan. Constantly psyching himself up, he gripped his broadsword and charged toward the Martial God standing before him. However, midway through his charge, the Martial God remained motionless, which began to unsettle him. Stopping in his tracks, Gui Lianxie muttered to himself, "What is this guy doing? Why isn't he moving? This is bizarre. What exactly is he planning?"

While pondering this, Gui Lianxie assumed an offensive stance and began circling the Martial God. Yet, no matter how he probed, the Martial God stood still like a sculpture, seemingly disregarding Gui Lianxie’s tests entirely. The only evidence that this being was alive were the footprints left behind on the arena floor; each step had cracked the stone and sunk deep into the ground. It was clear that the giant axe he wielded must be incredibly heavy to cause such destruction with every step.

Gripping his broadsword, Gui Lianxie finally steeled his resolve. He believed that victory could only be found in close combat, and surely, such a massive axe would be unwieldy to swing at close range. "Since you won't move, then I shall attack," he thought. No longer hesitating, he lunged forward with lightning speed. His ability to reach the semifinals was no stroke of luck; one would not dare step onto this lethal arena without genuine skill.

As he reached the Martial God and saw him still standing motionless, Gui Lianxie felt a surge of secret joy. "He has no reaction at all! That huge axe must just be for show." But just as he swung his broadsword, intending to cleave the Martial God in two, a flash of white light blinded him, and then, Gui Lianxie knew nothing more.

"Wow!!!"

The spectators in the front row gasped in horror as a shower of gore and entrails rained down from above. A small demon sitting in the stands suddenly caught a large eyeball falling through the air. Screaming in terror, he leaped from his seat as if he had just won a fortune, tossing the eye away in disgust. It was truly gruesome; the muscle tissue still attached to the eyeball was twitching. The poor creature was terrified. Gui Lianxie, who had been standing on the stage only moments ago, was now reduced to nothing but his lower half; his upper body had been utterly obliterated by the Martial God’s lightning-fast strike.

"This? This Martial God swings his axe even faster than Gui Lianxie swings his sword!" Witnessing the brutal scene, Miss Xingmeng was so shaken she nearly collapsed to the floor. "Is this guy even human? He swings that massive axe as if it were weightless, as if it had no mass at all. What kind of people are these members of the Sikong Team? First, there was that freakish killer, and now a power-type monster? But this one is even more terrifying—he finished his opponent as if it were child's play. It’s incredible." Despite her shock, her duty was to announce the result. Regaining her composure, she shouted to the packed arena, "The winner of this match is—the Martial God of the Sikong Team!"

Hearing the referee’s announcement, the Martial God gripped his enormous axe and walked off the arena, leaving a trail of deep footprints in his wake.

"How could such a powerful being submit to the command of Sikong Lang?" The three members of the Dark Elf Team were stunned as they watched the Martial God descend from the stage. The sight left them not only shocked but deeply puzzled. They could not fathom why a monster of such caliber would be a member of the Sikong Team, let alone serve Sikong Lang.

"It’s quite simple!" Sikong Ming said, slowly stepping onto the arena. He looked down at the three Dark Elf team members and smirked triumphantly. "It’s because our Sikong brothers possess even greater power!" Finding the prospect of fighting them one by one tedious, he gestured to them with a sinister grin. "This is too troublesome. You should all come at me at once! If you can defeat me, I’ll let you advance directly to the finals!"

Hearing this, the members of the Dark Elf Team could hardly believe their ears. This guy was incredibly arrogant, daring to take on three at once. "We didn't reach the semifinals by being pushovers," they thought. "If you want to die, don't blame us for being ruthless." Exchanging a glance and a nod, all three leaped onto the stage.

Once the fighters were in place, the referee, Miss Xingmeng, immediately declared the match underway. Upon the signal, the three members of the Dark Elf Team clapped their hands together and sneered at Sikong Ming, "Don't underestimate us, Sikong Ming. We are far more dangerous in a group than in a one-on-one!"

Moving with the coordination of seasoned partners, they attacked simultaneously from the left, right, and above. Despite their small, slender frames, their speed was staggering. They wove through a deceptive footwork pattern, leaving trails of afterimages—the result of moving at such high speeds that the human eye could barely track them.

They intended to disorient their opponent with their unique movement before closing in for a three-pronged strike, a tactic that had claimed countless lives before. However, to Sikong Ming, it was all meaningless. Just as the three closed in, he suddenly spread his arms, and like a hedgehog, countless flesh-spikes erupted from his body. They shot out in every direction—front, back, left, right, and above—effectively sealing off all escape routes and impaling the three attackers mid-air.

"Ah!!!"

The screams that tore from their throats were harrowing. They had never anticipated such a counterattack, and before they could even attempt to dodge, they were shredded like a sieve.

"As expected of semifinalists, though two of you aren't quite dead yet!" After retracting his spikes, Sikong Ming saw that one of them had died instantly, while the other two were severely wounded. Seemingly unsatisfied, he walked over to the two survivors, squatted down, and said with a mocking tone, "As a reward, I’ll allow one of you to live. How about that? Beg me! Perhaps if I feel merciful, I’ll let both of you go! Hehehe."

"What kind of joke is this? Who would beg you for mercy!" one of the members gritted out, forcing himself into a sitting position with an unyielding glare. "Kill me now! If you don't kill me here, I will kill you one day!"

"Me... mercy! Please, spare me!"

"Decided! It’s you!"

Without a second thought, Sikong Ming reached toward the one pleading for mercy, his fingers piercing through the man's cheeks and killing him instantly. He had no interest in spineless cowards.

"We hate ugly things the most!" Retracting his fingers without a second look, Sikong Ming turned to the last remaining member. Observing the man's defiant gaze, he smiled. "I know you're unconvinced. Look," he said, gesturing with his hand, "Hao and the Martial God over there once said the same thing to me. Ever since they were defeated by my brother, they’ve been trying to take our lives, hehehe. But honestly, both my brother and I love that kind of person." Seeing the hatred and fury in the man's eyes, Sikong Ming’s face beamed with satisfaction. The man’s pale face flushed crimson with rage from his taunts. It was the perfect expression. Tormenting someone with such spirit gave him an indescribable sense of excitement. Thinking of such a proud soul being crushed by his own hands made his heart pound with delight. Reaching out to wipe a trace of blood from the man's lip, Sikong Ming whispered mockingly, "However... there is one thing that makes me different from my brother. When it comes to promises, I tend to go back on them quite often! Hehehe!"

With that, Sikong Ming’s sharpened index finger pierced through the man's forehead. Retracting his spike, now stained with blood and brain matter, he flicked his tongue to taste it. "The brains of hot-blooded people taste the best! Hehehe!!"

"After three spectacular matches, the Sikong Team has emerged victorious and officially advances to the finals! Our grand finale will commence at noon, two days from now. Thank you all for joining us, and we will see you the day after tomorrow!"

"The members of the Sikong Team are so strong!"

"I know, right! The Dark Elf Team didn't stand a chance; they didn't even get a single opportunity to counterattack."

"The Martial God is truly amazing. Just a wave of his hand and that guy exploded—it was so satisfying!"

"Indeed, you can only see such magnificent scenes in a tournament like this. The ticket price was well worth it!"

"Absolutely. Sikong Lang’s older brother is also quite something. I heard he only gained his reputation through his brother, but who would have thought he possessed such strength himself? It was completely unexpected!"

"If you could have predicted it, then he wouldn't be Sikong Ming. They say ginger gets spicier as it ages for a reason."

"But the next match is the finals. Who do you think will win?"

"That goes without saying—the Sikong Team, of course. Didn't you see how strong even Sikong Lang’s subordinates are?"

"That's true."

"Hey? Look, isn't that Bai Ying?"

"It is. Why is he here watching the match?"

"He looks so pathetic!"

"Hahaha, he’ll be killed by Sikong Lang and his brother in two days anyway. Let him enjoy his remaining time!"

"Poor wretch!"

......