The charming widow of the Marquis's mansion: The stable boy carries the flag and raises the dra

Old Zhao ignored the commotion, clenched his fists, and his spiritual power condensed into a thick protective light around him, enveloping his entire body.

Although he speaks casually, his gaze becomes serious when he gets down to business.

Wang Long could sense that the opponent's spiritual power was profound and solid, clearly indicating that he was a veteran who had fought countless battles in the arena, and every move he made carried the precision and efficiency honed in actual combat.

He didn't rush to attack; he simply adjusted his breathing slightly. The instincts of his Chaotic Dao Body made him even more adept in this pure spiritual confrontation.

The surrounding noise receded like the tide, turning into a blurry background sound.

Old Zhao moved first. His figure was like a steady cheetah, and he pushed off with his feet, making a dull thud on the ground.

He was enveloped in a powerful aura of spiritual pressure as he lunged straight at Wang Long.

He didn't use any weapons, but instead used his fists and palms as weapons. Each punch was wrapped with solid spiritual power, smashing into Wang Long's defensive circle with heavy and continuous force, like a moving mountain.

Wang Long did not retreat. He met Lao Zhao's attack head-on and responded with his own fists and palms.

The two spiritual forces collided repeatedly in the center of the arena, producing a dull, drum-like sound.

At first, Lao Zhao's offensive did suppress Wang Long; his strength was more powerful, and he was more experienced.

He was able to keenly seize the tiny openings in Wang Long's defense, forcing Wang Long to dodge to the side several times.

But soon, Lao Zhao realized something was wrong.

Wang Long's defensive methods are changing. He is no longer simply blocking, but has begun to use small-scale movement techniques and extremely precise mental control to neutralize attacks.

Once, when Lao Zhao punched Wang Long in the shoulder, Wang Long merely shifted the angle slightly and simultaneously conjured a thin thread of mental energy from his fingertips, which precisely wrapped around Lao Zhao's wrist.

That entanglement was extremely light and fast, yet it caused Old Zhao's punch to deviate slightly by half a point, revealing a momentary opening under his ribs.

Old Zhao reacted extremely quickly, immediately withdrawing his fist and changing his move, taking half a step back, and for the first time, surprise and seriousness appeared in his eyes.

"What technique did you use just now?"

His tone carried a hint of surprise and curiosity.

Wang Long didn't answer, but just waved to him, signaling him to come again.

Old Zhao raised an eyebrow, asked no more questions, and leaned in again.

But this time his attack was even more fierce than before, and he was clearly no longer holding back.

Although Wang Long's mental energy threads were intricate, Lao Zhao's response became even more cautious.

He knew he couldn't let those threads get close, so each attack was accompanied by an even stronger tearing sensation, trying to sever the thread at its source.

The two exchanged blows, their fists and mental energy colliding repeatedly, producing dense and muffled sounds.

The commotion among the onlookers at the edge of the arena gradually subsided, replaced by a more focused gaze.

Someone whispered something.

"Hmm, this newcomer's got some skills..."

"Old Zhao didn't even get the benefit?"

"His moves... I've never seen that kind of fighting style before!"

Just then, Wang Long seized the brief moment when Lao Zhao was recovering from a heavy punch, and suddenly pressed his body forward while spreading his right hand's five fingers.

Several strands of mental energy, as thin as hair, shot out from his fingertips at the same time, wrapping around Lao Zhao's right arm and shoulder blade from different angles.

Old Zhao's pupils contracted slightly. He subconsciously tried to break free, but found that although the threads were thin, they were exceptionally tough.

And like a living thing, it tightened as he exerted force, forcibly dissipating most of his strength in that instant.

Wang Long gave him no chance to adjust. He pointed his left hand like a sword and a solid spiritual energy sword beam accurately swept across Lao Zhao's chest.

Old Zhao's body stiffened abruptly as he looked down at the slowly spreading crack on his chest.

He then looked up, grinned, and gave a smile that carried a hint of helplessness and appreciation.

"Alright...it seems another formidable opponent has arrived in this spiritual realm."

Before he finished speaking, his spiritual body began to disintegrate from the crack, turning into tiny specks of light that quickly dissipated into the air.

All the spiritual power he had accumulated went to Wang Long.

The onlookers at the edge of the field were stunned for a moment, then burst into a complex chorus of sounds, some in amazement, others with regret.

"Old Zhao lost?!"

"What kind of day is this? Old Zhao actually stumbled in the fighting arena..."

"Just who is this kid?!"

Ye Niannu stood in the crowd, arms crossed, a slight smile on her lips. Her peach blossom eyes reflected Wang Long's composed figure as he finished his attack, her gaze filled with undisguised joy and pride.

When Wang Long stepped down from the arena, the gazes of the cultivators who had been making a fuss before clearly changed, now filled with scrutiny and curiosity.

Someone asked in a low voice.

"Hey, do you know him?"

"I don't know him. I heard he's from the Eastern Regions."

"The Eastern Regions? Such a remote place can produce characters like this?"

"Just don't mess with him, I think this guy's got some nerve."

Ye Niannu stepped forward, naturally took Wang Long's arm, and asked with a smile.

"How are you feeling?"

Wang Long flexed his wrists, carefully savoring the various details of the battle just now, and slowly nodded.

"My mental power is indeed much more effective than before. I'm more comfortable using those threads now, and I can do many more things that I couldn't do before."

"Most importantly, it allows you to seize some of the opponent's accumulated spiritual energy to replenish yourself. No wonder this arena is so lively!"

Wang Long was eager to start a killing spree, but the conversion rate was too low, still some distance from rare and precious treasures.

Suitable for people who enjoy the thrill of combat.

"Then I'll give it a try!"

Ye Niannu released his arm, jumped onto the stage with great interest, scanned the crowd of onlookers, and shouted loudly.

"Who wants to fight me?"

Her shout was crisp and clear, carrying a hint of eager anticipation and confidence.

The cultivators who were originally discussing Wang Long turned their heads and their gazes fell on the light green figure on the arena. Someone chuckled softly.

"Who could bring themselves to sleep with such a beautiful girl?"

"They can enter the Spirit Realm and make it to the arena, do you think they're some kind of pushover?"

"I don't care, I'll give it a try! I'll accept defeat if I lose!"

A young cultivator dressed in a light blue short-sleeved shirt pushed through the crowd, jumped onto the arena with a grin, and cupped his hands in greeting to Ye Niannu.

"Please enlighten me, young lady!"

Ye Niannu smiled and returned the greeting, saying...

"please!"

The two of them took a few steps back and stood in the center of the field.

Ye Niannu did not rush to make a move. She was sensing the fluctuations of the other party's spiritual power, while also pondering how to apply the refined control she had just mastered to actual combat.

The cultivator in the blue short-sleeved shirt launched the first attack. He was very fast and his figure was as agile as a swimming fish.

The short blade, formed from concentrated spiritual energy, constantly shifted angles in his hand, attempting to find a breakthrough through Ye Niannu's defensive gaps.