Apotheosis

Zen had already completed the eleventh round of the challenge. He stood on his platform, observing Layla's battle.

He could not force back a shake of his head as he watched.

Layla was using some sort of profound Sword Cry Technique. The place rang with the blood-curdling cries of her opponents. It was brutal torture, the violence extending to the spectators. Soon enough, the old man in the cotton clothes came forward to put a stop to it.

The blood mist exploded and the martial artists were kicked out of the Illusion Space.

The match was over; however, the image of pain was something that would haunt them forever. The memory was paralyzing, as if they were reliving the same ordeal.

Their faces had turned deathly pale, a few of them not managing to keep hold of their consciousness and fainting.

The martial artists on the other side of the Willow Island bore witness to this with growing rage.

The violence was needless. Layla was a top talent of the thirteen palaces. That had been established, but there was no need to go to the lengths of torture in which she subjected her opponents, since everyone here was a training partner. How could she use them as a display of power?

"That little bitch!"

"I will defeat her in the second round to teach her a lesson!"

"But we can only send out the martial artists from the second group for the second round. With her strength, I'm not certain they will be able to stop her..."

"Even if they can't stop her, they will have to put her in her place!"

The plaza was abuzz with sounds of disorderly voices and mutters.

The tens of thousands of people in the plaza were divided into dozens of groups and ranked according to their strength and cultivation levels.

The second group of martial artists would be facing the twelfth round of trial in the Illusion Space. In terms of strength, they had a slightly higher rank than the first group.

At this time, a youth garbed in white walked out from the crowd. "Everyone, quiet down!" he spoke in a loud voice.

A hush fell over the plaza at his words.

This young man in white was not that strong. His cultivation was at the seventh level of the Life and Death Realm, and he was assigned to the first group. Zen and Layla were the last two at the other side, and there were quite many martial artists in the first group. He was inferior to the others, so there was no chance for him to fight.

They surely sent their best warriors to fight Zen and Layla, so the trials the two underwent were more difficult than those of the previous martial artists.

The young man in white was named Adrian Rao. He was weaker than the others, but he had a nimble mind, brimming with resourcefulness. Previously, when they had been grouped up, he had given a lot of sound opinions and devised strategies with other martial artists that led to their victory over the others from the thirteen palaces.

"Adrian, what are you saying?" a martial artist inquired.

Adrian turned to him, his eyes glinting with certainty. "It will be impossible to defeat these two martial artists in the twelfth round, but I have an idea. I hope that you all can cooperate. It might give us a good chance."

t Zen released his Nether God Shadows, his opponents used different kinds of Law Power to dodge his attacks.

Some used the Space Law to create illusions, some used the Earth Law to take cover under the earth and make themselves invisible, and some made use of the Wind Law to fly.

What was unusual about all of this was that despite using different approaches, none of them was fighting him directly.

Was this an obstacle that the old man had intentionally set up? Or had someone devised a plot against him?

Zen speculated the possibilities for a moment, his face wearing a pensive expression, but soon enough, a faint smile appeared on his face. It did not matter what their goal was; he only needed to follow his own plan.

The other martial artists' movement techniques were powerful, so he could no longer stay where he was.

As he began to move, he was pulled back by something from underneath. Looking down, he discovered that a brown vine had appeared beneath his feet and firmly tied him to the ground.

'It will take more than a flimsy vine to tie me up, ' Zen thought to himself.

Ignoring the coiled strand on his leg, he took a step forward. At first, he thought of forcing the vine to tear apart with the impact of his movement. However, he did not imagine that the vine was extremely tenacious. Not only did it remain intact, it even grew longer as it moved along with his body.

Whoosh!

With a backhand slash, the vine snapped in half. Immediately, two more vines sprang from the ground and once again restrained Zen, gripping him in their tight hold. It was at this same time that the martial artists who had been dodging his attacks began to charge towards him from all directions.

This scene had left the martial artists of the thirteen palaces bewildered and slightly impressed. It was beyond their expectations that these fellows would work together so well.

Even the lord of the Sunset World and the others had surprised expressions on their faces. One of the palace masters said faintly, "Someone from the Willow Island must have offered advice. I hate to admit it, but it is a clever plan."