All the gods began by cultivating the Iron Shirt technique.

"What amazing Eagle Claw Kung Fu! No wonder you're a top disciple of the Eagle Claw Sect."

"A rising star has emerged in the martial arts world."

......

Another martial arts competition ended, and the many martial arts practitioners below the stage began to discuss again, talking about the sharpness and power of He Sen's Eagle Claw Kung Fu, while also speculating about who would take the stage next.

He Sen also stood on the stage, his eyes like those of a hawk, looking down at the many fellow martial arts practitioners below.

He knew, of course, that among the martial arts practitioners present, there were undoubtedly stronger experts than himself. He had only opened four meridians, and his strength was perhaps acceptable among the younger generation.

However, he was far inferior to even the second-rate or first-rate masters in the martial arts world. But he wanted to use this competition to spar with his peers, firstly to verify his strength, and secondly to make a name for himself so that he could make it easier to travel in the martial arts world in the future.

Although his previous initiative to come to Xiangyang to help Guo Daxia resist the Mongols had already earned him a good reputation, no one can ever have too much prestige.

Fortunately, the battle hadn't depleted his internal energy much. He Sen looked around and secretly regulated his breathing. Suddenly, his eyes focused on a spot below the stage. He saw a burly man carrying a sheathed longsword walking towards the stage from the crowd.

"Who is this person? How can he have such an air of authority?"

"I don't know, when did such a person appear in the martial arts world?"

Yang Pan strode confidently toward the stage. The surrounding crowd seemed to recognize his extraordinary nature and spontaneously parted to make way for him.

"It's him? I didn't expect this big guy to actually come." On the high platform, Guo Fu, who had been watching the show with great interest, couldn't help but exclaim when she saw Yang Pan come on stage.

Although Huang Rong occasionally glanced at the dueling platform, she mostly kept her eyes on the officials behind her, not forgetting the main purpose of this martial arts tournament. Noticing the officials' increasingly straight backs, a subtle smile appeared on Huang Rong's lips.

Although Huang Rong was distracted, her profound inner strength and excellent hearing allowed her to hear her daughter's exclamation.

"What's wrong, Fu'er? Do you know that person down there?" Huang Rong's beautiful eyes darted around, her gaze following her daughter's as it landed on the imposing young man who looked extraordinary.

Upon hearing her mother's words, Guo Fu immediately stiffened, her little head shrinking back. After returning home that day, Ke Zhen'e ultimately didn't expose her, so Huang Rong was unaware that Guo Fu had secretly gone to the inn.

Naturally, Guo Fu wouldn't reveal this at this moment, so she covered it up by saying, "No, I don't know him. Fu'er was just a little surprised because that person looked like a master."

"is that so."

Huang Rong's tone remained gentle, her gaze sweeping over her daughter before quickly returning to its own. Since people in the martial world called her the "Female Zhuge Liang," how could she possibly hide her daughter's little schemes from her?

But so be it. It's just a lie, after all. It's just that I know a guy from the martial arts world. I'll have the Beggars' Sect disciples investigate that guy's background later.

Although the young man seemed to have an extraordinary demeanor, Huang Rong had seen many people in the martial arts world over the years and had witnessed all sorts of empty boasts. She knew very well that one could never judge a person's strength by their appearance alone. No matter how famous a person was, in the end, it was their skills that truly mattered.

On the dueling platform, He Sen finished his breathing exercises and looked at the tall young man opposite him, his gaze gradually becoming serious.

"May I ask your name, sir?"

Yang Pan also looked at He Sen. Having watched the fight from below the stage, Yang Pan felt that this person was definitely the strongest since the start of the competition. Even Yang Pan was unsure whether his current physical strength could withstand the tearing force of those eagle-claw-like fingers.

Although the body was strengthened again after developing internal energy, the internal energy stimulated the blood and qi, it ultimately did not undergo a qualitative change.

However, Yang Pan was confident that with his current physical strength and the powerful internal energy flowing through his two meridians, he was definitely not weaker than He Sen. That's why he decided to step onto the stage for a fight. Otherwise, it would be a real pity to miss out on an opponent like He Sen.

"My name is Yang Pan. I was watching the battle from below the stage just now and saw that Brother He's skills were extraordinary, so I came here to learn from him."

Yang Pan? He Sen frantically searched his memory for information on the many martial arts masters he had heard of along the way, but ultimately realized he hadn't heard of the other person's name. However, regardless of who the other person was, since he was on stage, he had to have a match with him today.

He slightly bent his knees, his hands transforming into eagle claws as he focused his attention on defense. The previous battle had taken its toll, and given his uncertainty about Yang Pan's strength, he decided to remain calm and observe.

Seeing He Sen crouching in place, defending, Yang Pan roughly understood his opponent's plan. Since the other party wanted him to make the first move, he would grant his wish!

Clang!

Yang Pan gripped the hilt of his sword, and with a flick of his wrist, the scabbard was sent flying. He took a step forward, his entire body moving like a lion unleashed from its cage, each step covering two meters. In just two steps, he was in front of his opponent, and at the same time, the long sword in his hand had transformed into a streak of light that enveloped him.

"So fast!"

He Sen's pupils contracted, shocked not only by Yang Pan's speed but also by the overwhelming blade light emanating from him.

He didn't know how ordinary people acted, but in his view, the moment Yang Pan slashed down, the long sword seemed to appear as a phantom, instantly transforming into numerous sword shadows, making it impossible to distinguish between reality and illusion.

But the cold glint of light approaching his body told He Sen that every strike was real; it was just that the opponent's swing speed was so fast that it created a double image.

Bang!

In a flash, He Sen exerted force with his feet, his toes curling up like eagle claws, frantically pushing against the ground beneath his feet. Using this force, he moved sideways through the air, not daring to take the blade head-on.

Trying to run away!

Seeing that He Sen was about to move aside, Yang Pan's eyes shifted, and he instantly clenched his left hand into a fist and pierced through.

Whoosh!

With the added strength from his physical training and internal energy, Yang Pan's punch was like a cannonball, carrying a fierce gust of wind as it slammed into He Sen's noodles.

Boo!

In a daze, it seemed as if an eagle's cry could be heard, and He Sen's right eagle claw had already grabbed Yang Pan's fist that was about to strike at the last second.

His three fingers, shaped like hooks, suddenly exerted force as his thoughts raced. He had practiced Eagle Claw extensively, and He Sen was confident he could leave a mark even on a stone slab, let alone a body of flesh and blood.

However, when he hooked his finger, it felt as if he had hooked a piece of cowhide—no! It was something even tougher than cowhide.

"Practice hard body techniques!" He Sen realized this almost instantly, and looked at Yang Pan with a look of horror.

He never imagined that, in addition to his exquisite swordsmanship, the other party would also have such mastery of external martial arts.

Yang Pan didn't give his opponent time to think. His left hand was grabbed, and with a flick of his right arm, his long sword once again slashed horizontally with a sharp blade light.

Seeing this, He Sen flipped his hands, three fingers still pressed against Yang Pan's fist, and did a backflip to dodge Yang Pan's horizontal slash. At the same time, his long, hook-like fingers stuck to the back of Yang Pan's hand and pulled upwards along his entire arm.

*Gasp! Sizzle!*

A sound like a knife scraping leather, mixed with the sound of a sleeve being torn, rang out. Ignoring the faint pain coming from his arm, Yang Pan took advantage of He Sen's landing momentarily, and suddenly bent his left elbow straight like a spear, slamming it into the other's chest again.

Taizu Changquan is originally a battlefield style of boxing, and many of its fist techniques are derived from spear techniques. At this moment, Yang Pan's elbow strike is like a general thrusting his spear straight into the ground. If this blow lands, it would break at least a few bones.

He Sen, who had just landed, did not expect Yang Pan to react so quickly, giving him no time to catch his breath.

But he dared not take Yang Pan's punches head-on, because when he took Yang Pan's punch just now, his palm was numb from the shock. The opponent's strength was like that of a wild beast, so he could only continue to dodge.

Feeling frustrated, He Sen felt extremely frustrated during this battle.

Not only did he not dare to directly confront his opponent's fists, feet, and knife skills, but his own Eagle Claw technique couldn't even inflict much damage on the opponent. It was simply outrageous!

Thus, the entire arena was instantly transformed into a frenzied offensive by Yang Pan, while He Sen, who had performed exceptionally well in the previous match, could only rely on his agility to dodge. Even so, it was clear to anyone with discerning eyes that He Sen had fallen into a disadvantageous position and was gradually showing signs of defeat.

Swish! The blade flashed past He Sen's face. Just as He Sen was about to dodge again, Yang Pan's eyes narrowed. The previous blade flash was just a feint, designed to force his opponent to brush past him again. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Yang Pan reached out with his right hand and grabbed his opponent's arm tightly.

Sensing the strange sensation on his shoulder, He Sen channeled his inner energy and rushed towards it. However, the large hand on his shoulder felt as if it were embedded in his flesh. Before he could even let out a painful roar, he was already flying through the air as if the world was spinning around him.

Bang!

Yang Pan grabbed He Sen by the shoulder, lifted him upside down, and slammed him hard onto the ground.

Dust billowed up, and the muffled sound drowned out the noise in the arena.

"I...I admit defeat! Cough cough!" came He Sen's weak voice from the ground.

Yang Pan released his grip, letting the other man struggle to his feet. He glanced at his left arm. His sleeve was torn, revealing three deep red welts on his exposed arm, one of which even had a few drops of blood seeping out, though it was only a superficial wound.

"Brother Yang, you have impressive skills. I'm impressed." He Sen clutched his chest. If he hadn't used his internal energy to protect his internal organs in time after that fall, he would probably have coughed up blood.

......

"Wow, this big guy is pretty impressive too, unlike what Grandpa Ke said back at the inn about him being a newcomer to the martial arts world."

On the high platform, Guo Fu gasped softly, completely unaware that she had already betrayed herself.

Huang Rong, standing nearby, ignored her foolish daughter and looked at Yang Pan with some surprise.

She wasn't surprised by Yang Pan's strength; through the battle just now, she could tell that Yang Pan's strength was only at a third-rate level.

Just now, a Beggar Clan disciple reported to him about the identity of the person he had investigated. He didn't expect that this young man was also a Beggar Clan disciple, and a five-bag disciple who had just been promoted not long ago.

It's a bit of a pity, though, that the opponent did show some strength just now, and his skill in external martial arts was quite impressive.

However, the other party is quite old, nearing thirty and only a third-rate martial artist. In a few more years, his physical strength and blood will decline, making cultivation even more difficult. Without a fortuitous encounter, he will at most be a second-rate martial artist in this lifetime.

Such strength is not uncommon within the Beggars' Sect, but it's not worth paying too much attention to.