The match between Xingyuan Sect and Tianling Sect from beginning to end can almost be described in four words - one-sided massacre.
Wen Xiu's psychic shield swept across the battlefield. No matter which direction the Tianling Sect members tried to break through, he was able to mercilessly send them flying with precise impacts. His movements were cold and ruthless, like a fighting machine. There was no hesitation, no expression, only the force of straight-line collisions and lateral crushing. A Tianling Sect member was knocked back and tumbled to the ground, struggling to stand. Wen Xiu turned around and looked at him with a sharp look: "You dare to play at your level? I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place. The spirit pet training ground is not here." His tone was cold and tinged with contempt that made people's teeth ache.
Fatty Yuan completely turned into a psychic bomber in the game. He ran and laughed, and the psychic bombs in his hand fell accurately into the defensive position of Tianling Sect. Every explosion brought up dust and deafening psychic roars. "Bang! Boom!" The bombs exploded one after another. The players of Tianling Sect fled for a while, not even caring about maintaining their formation, thinking only about how to save their lives. After throwing a round of bombs, Fatty Yuan put his hands on his hips, looked down at these embarrassed opponents, laughed and shouted: "Hahaha! That's not enough? Come on, tell me, how did your sect's coach teach you? Did he ask you to come and make fun of him?"
Zhang Xiyu delivered the most sinister performance of the game. He roamed the court with his psychic energy balls, occasionally deliberately picking them up and throwing them over the heads of the Tianling Sect players. Whenever opponents tried to steal the ball, he would trap them with a psychic rune array. Then, standing outside the rune array, he would sneer and say, "Come on, grab the ball! Aren't you eager to attack? Huh? Are your legs not enough?" The Tianling Sect players were furious, but they could do nothing to stop this "tactical madman" who controlled the court.
What's more, after successfully intercepting an opponent's psychic ball, Zhang Xiyu even circled the field and said leisurely, "Theory is indeed reliable. Practice has proven that you are just a bunch of reckless people without theory. Your loss was not surprising at all."
Wen Xiu's taunts escalated to the level of personal attacks. After knocking two members of the Tianling Sect flying, he sauntered over to them and said condescendingly, "You guys don't look like you're suited to this kind of competition. Why don't you open a spiritual teahouse? I'll write your opening plaque for free. I wish you a prosperous business." He added, "Of course, I probably won't patronize it, as my tastes aren't too low."
Ning Yuge, standing on the sidelines, couldn't help but clap his thigh and laugh wildly at the sight. He waved his hands and shouted, "Alright! Hit them like this! The harder the better! Let them learn what a lesson from the Xingyuan Sect is!" He even offered a few psychic bombs to Fatty Yuan, as if he couldn't wait to blow the Tianling Sect's position through.
The spectators outside the stadium had already split into two camps. Xingyuan Sect supporters excitedly shouted, "Well done! Our team is strong!" "Brother Pangpang, blow up! Don't give them a chance to breathe!" "Zhang Xiyu is so sinister, I love it!" Meanwhile, Tianling Sect supporters, their faces livid, cursed in frustration, "This isn't a competition at all, they're crazy!" "Did that guy who hit us eat some kind of spirit beast elixir?" "Do we still have a chance? Oh my god, why are these people so terrifying?"
Ning Yuge stood on the sidelines, like a confident commander, his face brimming with pride. He watched his players crush the match, his inner satisfaction nearly overflowing. He waved his arms, his voice almost drowning out the cheers from the audience: "Great collision! Brilliant explosion! Beat them to a pulp! This is the true spirit of our Xingyuan Sect!"
Luo Tiangang stood beside him, his eyes indifferently scanning the entire audience, his voice as calm as a pool of stagnant water: "It's working, but it looks like... haven't you trained them to be a little inhuman?"
Ning Yuge turned around upon hearing this, his smile growing even brighter. "Not like humans? Isn't that perfect? We want them to look like a bunch of killing gods, so anyone who sees them will tremble in fear!" He couldn't help but burst out laughing, patting Luo Tiangang on the shoulder. "Look at the Tianling Sect's troops, each one of them is like a cooked duck. Tsk, how satisfying!"
Luo Tiangang pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he just snorted lightly.
The whistle finally blew, and the referee announced the result: "Xingyuan Sect, wins!" However, these two simple words failed to stir a single ripple in the Tianling Sect audience. Those sitting in the opposing audience simply stared at the field in silence, their faces filled with a complex mix of emotions—shock, unease, even fear.
The Tianling Sect members in the center of the field had already collapsed to the ground, too weak to even stand. Each of their faces wore the same expression: bewilderment and despair.
Wen Xiu walked up to the fallen Tianling Sect captain, looking down at him condescendingly. His voice was as cold as a blade. "If I were you, I'd go back to the sect and retreat into seclusion, thoroughly reflecting on how useless I am. If you keep going like this, you might end up being worse than a guard dog."
Fatty Yuan stood beside Wen Xiu, his hands on his hips, grinning broadly. "Hahaha! They can't even beat Fatty. What a waste of their looks! Hey, would you consider changing your sect's business? If you specialize in performing psychic special effects, there might be a market for it." He then pulled out another spiritual fruit and took a bite, mumbling incoherently, "But if you keep going like this, you won't even be worthy of watching my performance."
Zhang Xiyu stood in the back, gently twirling the psychic pen in his hand, his gaze indifferently scanning the beleaguered Tianling Sect players on the field. He said slowly, "Theoretically, based on your current level, let alone winning the competition, you should be beaten up even in your own sect."
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