Chapter Thirty-Six: Surrender

As the five water needles vanished into the air, a wave of exclamations swept through the stands.

What a bizarre martial technique!

Even Meng Yu and the others, who had witnessed this scene, found their expressions subtly changed. Such an uncanny skill was nearly impossible to guard against.

Di Han was a tough nut to crack.

That was precisely why this match had drawn so many experts to watch in person. Di Han had made his name early, but had always acted alone; no one truly knew the extent of his strength. This battle, pitting Tang Tian—favored by the three figures Sima Xiangshan, Han Bingning, and Wang Zhen—against Di Han, was undeniably the perfect touchstone to gauge his true power.

Both Di Han and Tang Tian were enigmatic figures. When two mysteries collided, it naturally drew all eyes.

Di Han’s technique was extraordinary. Many in the audience, putting themselves in the fighters’ places, quickly concluded that facing such a strange skill themselves would be a daunting challenge.

How would Tang Tian respond?

Curiosity filled the onlookers.

Tang Tian darted backward like lightning, his fists alternating at an astonishing rate, punching so rapidly that a dense wall of fist shadows formed before him.

Clang clang clang clang clang!

Five sparks flew as the water needles struck the wall of fists and were instantly deflected. The black iron gauntlets on Tang Tian’s hands boasted remarkable defensive power; the needles couldn’t even leave a mark on them.

He’s still using Flash Fist!

Surprise flickered across the faces in the stands, but on second thought, Tang Tian’s response was not exactly ingenious—yet it was supremely practical.

Only Wang Zhen’s expression grew animated, his eyes shining brightly.

A hundred percent perfect Flash Fist!

And this time, Tang Tian hadn’t entered a berserk state, which meant he had trained Flash Fist to perfection. Wang Zhen knew how difficult that was. Once one reached eighty-five percent proficiency in Flash Fist, each further improvement required exponentially more time and effort.

Wang Zhen himself had stopped at eighty-seven percent—not because he couldn’t progress, but because the incremental gains simply demanded too much time. It was more effective to spend that time mastering a third-tier technique; one’s strength would increase much faster that way.

Most people made the same choice. With every rise in martial technique tier, the difference in power became qualitative. This only became more pronounced at higher levels.

One hundred percent!

Tang Tian had actually trained Flash Fist to a state of flawless perfection!

Wang Zhen’s eyes widened as he stared intently. He had built his reputation on Flash Fist and harbored a special attachment to it. The first time he saw Tang Tian use the technique, even though Tang Tian was in a frenzied state, Wang Zhen had been deeply shocked.

What would a perfect Flash Fist look like?

Tang Tian’s fists vanished without a sound, reappearing without warning, but when they did, the dull thud of impact was as if an explosion had suddenly erupted.

A wall of fist shadows!

What explosive power…

Without any infusion of true energy, relying solely on his arm muscles, Tang Tian could achieve such an astonishing speed—his foundation was unbelievably solid.

Twelve punches per second!

Within moments, Wang Zhen had calculated Tang Tian’s punching speed. His expression turned grave; such a frequency was beyond his own ability.

As Tang Tian wove a wall of fists with Flash Fist, Wang Zhen wasn’t the only one who grew serious. Any renowned expert was sharp-eyed. Though only basic and second-tier techniques emphasized muscular technique, and higher tiers focused more on the use of true energy, the body was always the foundation of all martial skills—the source from which true energy was drawn.

The body’s quality influenced one’s true energy, and thus one’s martial techniques, in countless subtle ways. This influence was omnipresent, though not always obvious. Most people, weighing time against results, would choose the path that was faster and more efficient.

But… such a solid foundation—no, a perfect foundation—

None of them had ever seen it before!

The shock they felt was immense. To think that someone with such a foundation could, with just arm strength, throw twelve punches per second—if Tang Tian added true energy atop this, how many punches could he unleash in one go?

This thought, once it occurred to them, lodged in their minds like a poisoned barb, impossible to dispel.

For the first time, Di Han’s expression changed.

His opponent had used the second-tier Flash Fist to break his Drizzle, employing no particularly clever trick—just one thing: speed!

But that sheer speed exerted enormous pressure on Di Han.

No shortcuts, no trickery—only absolute strength and open, forthright power. Such power might lack cunning, but it was all the more fearsome and difficult to handle.

Di Han had vast combat experience; he had fought and killed many opponents, but he most hated this type of adversary.

Damn it!

Di Han manipulated his five water needles, letting them swoop and circle like a flock of hawks in the sky. At the slightest opening, they would vanish instantly into the air.

But Tang Tian’s reactions were just as quick. The twelve-punch wall was like an impregnable fortress, the needles couldn’t shake it at all. The wall of fists covered a wide area, and Tang Tian seemed tireless; after dozens of rounds, he showed no sign of fatigue.

Di Han narrowed his eyes, his fingers trembling slightly as he recalled the five water needles to his side.

He was growing cautious now.

The momentum of battle often waxed and waned, and Di Han’s withdrawal instantly alerted Tang Tian to an opportunity to attack.

Without hesitation, Tang Tian drove his right foot into the ground, lowering his body and darting forward.

Tang Tian’s legs were powerful, and his near-perfect physical condition was now on full display. His explosive acceleration was like that of a watchful leopard—his speed was astonishing.

Di Han’s eyes flashed as his five fingers trembled, sending invisible threads of true energy silently gliding through the air.

The five water needles melted away, spreading silently along the threads of energy.

In a blink, five water threads as fine as hair crisscrossed the air, forming a perfect killing net.

Rain Strings!

These water threads were as sharp and resilient as harp strings—if an enemy charged into them, they would be instantly dismembered. Di Han had used this trap to ambush and kill opponents of higher rank than himself. If only it were actually raining…

Just as Tang Tian leapt forward, a strong sense of danger surged in his heart, and he abruptly halted his movement.

Narrowing his eyes, Tang Tian scanned his surroundings.

Di Han’s heart skipped a beat. How had he sensed it?

Terrifying.

His withdrawal just now had been intentional; this alone showed a remarkable understanding of battle’s ebb and flow. By feigning retreat, he lured Tang Tian into striking. Di Han was a master of combat psychology—usually, if someone had been suppressed for so long, the first chance to counterattack would make them pounce without hesitation. The anger of being suppressed often dulled one’s alertness to danger.

Tang Tian’s initial reaction had gone exactly as Di Han anticipated.

But then Tang Tian stopped dead, giving up his hard-won chance to counterattack without a second thought, which took Di Han by surprise.

The force of Rain Strings itself was negligible; if the opponent slowed down, its power was almost nothing.

What a troublesome opponent.

Di Han felt a headache coming on. He had never faced anyone quite like this. Not only was his adversary strong and well-rounded, with no apparent weaknesses and a foundation as solid as bedrock, but he also possessed the instincts of a wild beast—truly frightening!

Such a person actually existed in this world.

In a true ambush, Di Han could have used terrain and environment, devised countless strategies. But in a direct, open confrontation, facing such a beastly opponent, his luck was truly awful.

The water threads, fine and transparent, were nearly invisible in the air, but once Tang Tian stopped and searched carefully, he quickly found them.

Tang Tian’s expression changed. If he’d charged straight in, he would have been finished!

What a devious fellow!

Tang Tian’s heart pounded; his opponent’s methods were endless, their variety and unpredictability something he had never encountered before.

Tang Tian advanced cautiously, his eyes fixed on Di Han, ready to strike the moment he drew near.

Suddenly, Di Han raised his hand. “I concede.”

Concede…

Tang Tian was stunned. His opponent had clearly held the upper hand so far; he himself had been forced into a tight spot. Why give up now?

The audience, too, was taken aback by the sudden turn.

After a moment of silence, the crowd erupted in a roar.

“What’s going on? Why concede?”

“Yeah! Di Han seemed way stronger than Tang Tian! Why admit defeat?”

“A fix! There must be something going on behind the scenes!”

…

Ming Guang was dumbfounded by the developments and couldn’t help blurting out, “Has Di Han lost his mind? Why surrender?”

Wang Zhen’s expression was grave. “Never make Di Han your enemy. This man is extremely dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Ming Guang scoffed. “What’s so dangerous about him? He doesn’t even have the will to win—what good is that?”

“He’s an assassin,” Wang Zhen replied coolly. “For an assassin, fighting over pride is the height of foolishness. Di Han realized victory was unlikely. He also didn’t want to reveal all his techniques. If something can’t be accomplished, he withdraws instantly without a hint of regret. That kind of killer is truly dangerous.”

“Di Han realized victory was unlikely?” Ming Guang was puzzled. “Why didn’t I see that? Di Han’s tricks are surely not exhausted.”

“That’s exactly what makes Di Han formidable. You didn’t see it, Tang Tian didn’t see it, but Di Han could accurately assess his own situation and make a decisive, unhesitating choice. At every stage, whether advancing or conceding, he controlled the initiative,” Wang Zhen said, his tone full of admiration. “If this weren’t a match but a fight to the death, the outcome would be impossible to predict.”

“I don’t get it… Is Tang Tian really that strong?” Ming Guang muttered.

Inside the arena, Di Han looked at the bewildered Tang Tian before him and sighed inwardly. He hadn’t expected to meet such a formidable opponent right at the start—it seemed he would have to find another way.