I have Taoism and can understand other worlds

Chapter 688 Another Battle with Ao Xuan
"We concede defeat," Jiang Wen said.

Iwagang paused for a moment, looked at the wound on his chest, and then at the dragon warrior opposite him whose aura was still strong.

He gritted his teeth in reluctance, but finally bowed and stepped down from the stone platform. The dragon warrior snorted coldly, sheathed his spear, and stood there, his arrogance growing even stronger.

A wave of regret and discussion arose from the audience, while triumphant cheers erupted from the direction of the dragon race.

On the elders' platform, the old man in hemp robes glanced at Jiang Wen with a slight movement in his eyes, but showed no emotion.

After three battles, the score was two wins and one loss. Though the outcome couldn't be definitively stated, it was predictable. The final match rested on Yan Ming's shoulders. Only if he won could the Battle Technique be successfully passed down, leaving the Hundred Streams tribes with nothing to say.

Jiang Wen's expression remained unchanged, calm and composed. He glanced at Yan Ming, who nodded in response.

At that moment, cheers erupted from the arena. Yanming's opponent stepped onto the stage; it was none other than his old nemesis, the Golden-Scaled Dragonman—Ao Xuan.

Ao Xuan stepped onto the stone platform, his pale golden vertical pupils fixed on Yan Ming. His blood energy was no longer just rising, but swirling around him like a living thing, faintly forming a thin layer of golden light armor on his body. His aura was powerful and overwhelming, far surpassing that of anyone before him.

A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips: "Yanming, this time, you won't have any luck. Yanxiong saved you back then, but who will save you this time?"

"Battle Techniques, humph, nothing but a joke. For so many years, which of our ancestors hasn't tried them? It's a pity they all failed. Don't be like that thirteenth elder, indulging in wishful thinking."

Ao Xuan raised his eyes and met Jiang Wen's gaze. Although the other party was already the thirteenth elder, he was still not afraid.

Jiang Wen chuckled lightly, deciding not to argue with this person.

Yan Ming, who was beside him, did not speak, but silently walked up the stone platform and stood opposite Ao Xuan.

He took a deep breath, and the pale yellow aura around him flowed slowly. It was not as dazzling as Ao Xuan's, but it was more profound and weighty.

Without further ado, Ao Xuan made his move.

His figure transformed into a golden lightning bolt, moving at incredible speed, leaving only a faint afterimage in his wake. He unleashed a punch, golden blood energy condensing into a ferocious dragon head phantom, accompanied by an ear-piercing shriek, hurtling straight at Yan Ming's face.

Yanming's pupils contracted, and he crossed his arms, instantly condensing a thick shield of light in front of him with pale yellow energy.

"Boom!"

An explosion more violent than any before rang out as the golden dragon head collided violently with the yellow light shield. A violent shockwave spread out in a ring, causing the clothes of those near the stands to flutter.

The rocks beneath Yanming's feet shattered inch by inch, and he was pushed backward several feet by the immense force before he could barely regain his balance, his arms slightly numb.

Ao Xuan pressed his advantage, flashing to Yan Ming's flank and unleashing a powerful sweeping kick that created a fierce gust of wind. Yan Ming lowered his stance, bracing himself with his arms to parry.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The sound of violent collisions continued.

Ao Xuan unleashed the speed and power of the dragon race to the extreme, relentlessly attacking Yan Ming, golden afterimages filling the sky, and blood energy surging everywhere.

His attacks were not only powerful and heavy, but also had tricky angles, sometimes like a storm, sometimes like a venomous snake spitting its tongue.

Yanming was almost entirely on the defensive, pushing the defensive power of the "Xuanwu Battle Technique" to its limit.

His body was enveloped in a pale yellow aura, as if he were wearing a layer of solid stone armor. No matter how fierce Ao Xuan's attacks were, he always held firm to his small area, as if his feet were rooted to the ground.

Occasionally, he would seize an opportunity to counterattack, his punches and kicks carrying the weight of mountains, forcing Ao Xuan to avoid taking them head-on and rely on his speed to dodge.

The audience watched intently, shouts and gasps of amazement rising and falling.

The Hundred Barbarian Saintesses were focused, with the Crimson Water Saintesse even clenching her fists slightly. On the elders' platform, the elders' gazes were also fixed on the arena; clearly, the intensity of this duel exceeded their expectations.

"Roar!" Unable to gain the upper hand after a prolonged assault, Ao Xuan seemed to grow impatient. He suddenly took a step back, his golden blood energy frantically converging towards his fists, making his light armor even more solid, and a suffocating aura rose up. "Take this move, Mad Dragon Strike!"

He unleashed both fists simultaneously, and two incredibly refined and lifelike golden dragon-shaped energies roared forth, intertwining and carrying an aura of annihilation. In an instant, they crossed the distance between the two, intending to completely devour Yan Ming.

This strike is almost as powerful as blood energy manifesting!

Faced with this terrifying attack, a resolute glint flashed in Yan Ming's eyes. He no longer simply defended, but instead circulated the concentrated qi around his body at an unprecedented speed, gathering it all in front of him. He formed a circle with his hands and uttered a low shout:

"Xuanwu Shield!"

Om-!
A massive, solid tortoise-shell phantom, its ancient and ethereal patterns seemingly formed from primordial energy, suddenly appeared before him.

Runes flowed across the tortoise shell, exuding an ancient and profound aura.

"boom!!!!!"

Two golden dragons crashed violently into the Xuanhuang tortoise shell, bursting with dazzling light. The entire stone platform trembled violently, and the roar was so loud it hurt people's eardrums.

The violent shockwave spread outwards, even triggering the protective array at the edge of the stone platform, causing ripples to appear.

As the light faded, everyone hurriedly looked in that direction.

The phantom image of the black and yellow tortoise shell was covered with cracks, but it did not break. Yan Ming, though a trace of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth and his figure swayed, still stood firmly behind the tortoise shell.

On the other hand, Ao Xuan's all-out attack was blocked, his aura suddenly weakened, and his face was full of disbelief and astonishment, as well as weakness after exhaustion.

It's now!

Yanming's eyes flashed with a sharp light, and the tortoise shell phantom in front of him suddenly dissipated, transforming into a powerful force that flowed back into his body.

With one step, the entire stone platform seemed to tremble. His simple and direct punch, which gathered all the momentum and power he had accumulated, struck Ao Xuan's wide-open chest like a falling meteor.

In his haste, Ao Xuan only had time to raise his arms to block.

"Oh!"

With a muffled thud, Ao Xuan was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, propelled off the ground by the terrifying power contained in the punch. He flew in an arc and crashed heavily outside the stone platform. After struggling for a moment, he was unable to get up.

The whole place was dead silent.

You can hear the needle drop.

All eyes were focused on the young rock-dwelling man on the stone platform, who was slowly retracting his fist, his chest rising and falling slightly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, yet his gaze was resolute.

A moment later, a deafening roar of joy erupted from the direction of the Rock People, the sound almost lifting the heavens. The spectators from other races also recovered from their shock and burst into enthusiastic discussion and amazement.

Yanming took a deep breath, suppressed his surging blood and qi, turned around, faced the direction where Jiang Wen was, and bowed to the elders sitting high on the stands.

Jiang Wen nodded slightly.

Meanwhile, on the elders' platform, the gazes of the old man in hemp robes and the other elders fell back on Jiang Wen. This time, the meaning contained in their gazes was far more complex and profound than ever before.

Jiang Wen calmly looked back, behind him were four composed young rock people.

This time, no one can stop him from cultivating the Battle Technique.

The method of bloodline is but a minor path; how can it be compared to the battle techniques of all races?

(End of this chapter)