Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body.

Yan was stunned for a moment, not expecting Yang Jian to actually accept the challenge, and his expression was quite interesting.

Are you sure?

Yan squinted and looked the sallow-faced, thin little boy up and down.

"Confirmed." Yang Jian nodded, his tone calm.

Yan sneered, "Fine, don't say I bullied you later. You can use your martial spirit."

He then looked at Xie Yue and Hu Liena, and shrugged: "You both heard it, he wanted to hit himself."

Xie Yue leaned against the doorframe, gave a blank "hmm," and didn't stop them. He also wanted to see what was so special about this child who had been chosen by His Holiness the Pope.

Hu Liena didn't say anything, but just looked at Yang Jian with curiosity.

They only knew that Bibi Dong had taken on a nominal disciple, but they were quite curious about what kind of martial soul Yang Jian had awakened.

Anyway, Yan said that he wouldn't use his soul power or martial soul. At most, he would suffer a little, but nothing serious should happen.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you."

Yan stretched his wrists, walked to the open space in the center of the courtyard, and beckoned to Yang Jian with his finger: "Come on, I'll let you make the first move."

A relaxed smile played on his lips, but his entire being was riddled with flaws.

In his eyes, the outcome of this competition was never in doubt.

What kind of fighting power could a six-year-old child have?

Yang Jian didn't speak, but silently walked towards Yan.

His steps were steady, neither hurried nor slow, as if he were taking a leisurely stroll after a meal.

But just three steps away from Yan, his body suddenly shot out like a spring!

This outburst came without any warning.

Yan's pupils contracted, and he instinctively tried to dodge, but it was too late.

Yang Jian's fist slammed solidly into Yan's abdomen.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Yan bent over like a shrimp, his smile completely frozen, replaced by unbelievable shock.

The power of that punch is not something a six-year-old child could throw!

However, Yang Jian's attacks did not stop.

With a successful punch, he turned his body and slammed his elbow into Yan's ribs, followed by a knee strike aimed straight at Yan's face.

Yan hastily raised his arms to block, but Yang Jian's attacks poured down like a storm, fists, elbows, knees, and feet—every part of his body became a weapon.

These attack methods were not taught by the Spirit Hall, but rather were combat techniques that Yang Jian instinctively comprehended while cultivating the Eight-Nine Arcane Arts.

This technique is a top-tier body-refining method from the primordial era, and during its cultivation, it subtly alters the cultivator's combat instincts.

"This kid..."

Yan was forced to retreat repeatedly, looking extremely disheveled.

He wanted to retaliate, but Yang Jian's attacks were too fast and the angles were too tricky, so he was completely suppressed for a time.

At the courtyard gate, Xie Yue and Hu Liena's expressions changed from nonchalant to shocked.

"This..." Hu Liena's mouth dropped open, her almond-shaped eyes filled with disbelief. "He didn't even use his Martial Soul?"

Xie Yue frowned, staring intently at Yang Jian's movements: "Not only did he not use his martial spirit, he didn't even use his soul power. Pure physical strength."

"That's impossible!" Hu Liena blurted out. "How could a six-year-old child possibly have the physical strength..."

"It's impossible," Xie Yue interrupted her, "but the facts are right before our eyes."

In the center of the courtyard, Yang Jian's attacks remained fierce.

He sidestepped Yan's counterattack, his right hand's five fingers pressed together like a knife, aiming straight for the opponent's throat.

Yan was terrified and desperately leaned back to dodge, but little did he know that Yang Jian's move was just a feint; the real killing move was a whip kick that followed.

"Snapped!"

The kick landed squarely on Yan's side, sending him staggering two steps to the side.

But after that attack, Yang Jian's movements noticeably slowed down.

His body was still too weak after all.

He had only practiced the Eight-Nine Arcane Arts for a few days. Although it doubled his physical strength, his foundation was still too weak.

He can't sustain this high-intensity burst of energy for long.

Yan also noticed this.

Although he was beaten black and blue, he was, after all, a Soul Master who had received systematic training at the Spirit Hall since childhood, and his combat experience far exceeded that of Yang Jian.

Taking advantage of the lull in Yang Jian's offensive, he steadied himself and began to counterattack.

A punch was thrown out, accompanied by a whistling sound.

Yang Jian dodged to the side, but Yan anticipated his direction and delivered a powerful punch to his shoulder.

"hiss--"

Yang Jian gasped, and was jolted back several steps.

Yan gave him no chance to catch his breath, striding forward and using both fists and feet.

Although he cannot use his soul power, his body, which has been tempered by soul power for thirteen years, is far superior to ordinary people in both strength and endurance.

After three moves, Yang Jian was cornered against the wall.

"I'm giving up, I'm done playing."

Yang Jian glanced at his slightly trembling arm, then at Yan, who stood ramrod straight despite his bruised and swollen face, and decisively admitted defeat without the slightest hesitation.

Yan was stunned for a moment, not expecting him to admit defeat so readily.

Yang Jian rubbed his shoulder, which was numb from the shock, and said matter-of-factly, "Is there a problem?"

Yan opened his mouth, but for a moment he was speechless.

He looked down at his disheveled appearance, then at Yang Jian, his face growing increasingly dark.

"you!"

"What did I do?" Yang Jian tilted his head. "You were the one who wanted to spar with me. Is it my fault that things turned out like this?"

Yan was so angry that he trembled all over.

He, a dignified level 32 Soul Master and a member of the Spirit Hall's Golden Generation, was actually beaten black and blue by a six-year-old child!

Although the other party admitted defeat, they still lost a lot of face.

"You're asking for it!"

Enraged, Yan no longer cared about what he had said before.

A scorching aura erupted from his body, and three spirit rings—two yellow and one purple—rose from beneath his feet. Behind him, a phantom of a rock giant engulfed in flames appeared.

Flame Lord!

Xie Yue and Hu Liena's expressions changed, and they stepped forward to stop them at the same time.

"Yan, are you crazy!" Hu Liena stood in front of Yang Jian, frowning at Yan. "We agreed not to use your martial soul or soul power, what are you doing now?"

"I..." Yan was stopped by Hu Liena and immediately became more sober, but he couldn't suppress the resentment and anger on his face.

"If you can't handle losing, don't fight." Hu Liena rolled her eyes at him.

These words were like a knife, piercing Yan's heart.

His affection for Hu Liena was common knowledge within the Spirit Hall.

Being told by the girl he likes that he "can't accept defeat" is more painful than being beaten up by Yang Jian.

Yan's fists clenched so tightly they cracked, and his chest heaved violently.

He glared fiercely at Yang Jian and said, enunciating each word clearly, "We'll fight again once you get your first spirit ring!"

Yang Jian glanced at him, her eyes looking at him as if he were a fool.

Why should I fight you?

Yan was stunned.

Yang Jian brushed off non-existent dust from his clothes, his face calm: "I'm not like you, always looking for trouble. I have things to do, I'm leaving now."

After saying that, he walked out of the courtyard without looking back, leaving Yan standing there alone, his face turning pale and then red.

Xie Yue remained expressionless, but a hint of seriousness flashed deep in his eyes.

As Hu Liena watched Yang Jian's departing figure, the corners of her mouth unconsciously curled up.

Her eyes lit up, and she immediately took a step and chased after him.