Becoming a god starts with one certificate becoming eternal.

Zhang Qiu had assumed that Ye Xiao's waist would soon break, just like his previous opponents.

But the next moment, he realized something was wrong.

The harder he tried, the more it felt like he was being strangled by an iron stake. The stake didn't bend; instead, it made his shoulders and elbows numb, and the air in his chest felt suffocated.

Zhang Qiu's eyes darkened, his internal energy surged, and he immediately changed his move.

He slid his hand and grabbed Ye Xiao's wrist, trying to turn the grip into a twist, using skill to break Ye Xiao's bone.

But Ye Xiao didn't give him a chance.

He simply took a step forward, and with the force of his stance pushed to its limit, he suddenly burst forward.

"Thump!!"

The wooden planks of the platform shook as if struck by a heavy hammer, making the wooden railings tremble.

Zhang Qiu felt a sharp pain in his chest from the force of the impact, his gripping fingers went numb, and his strength was dissipated, like a pair of pliers suddenly losing their grip and becoming unable to hold on.

"It's already broken through?"

Some people were visibly shocked: "How could they have broken free so easily when they were clearly locked up?!"

Zhang Qiu, standing on the stage, was startled and instinctively wanted to take a half-step back to create some distance.

But Ye Xiao had already taken a step forward, moving even faster than him.

The first punch wasn't a wide swing; it was a close-quarters strike, delivered from under Zhang Qiu's ribs like a hammer being swung from the ground, slamming into Zhang Qiu's ribcage.

"Bang!!"

With a loud crack, Zhang Qiu's body arched instantly, his face paling. The heavy blow to his ribs caused him to let out a muffled groan of pain.

He endured the excruciating pain, trying to continue clinging to Ye Xiao, but the second blow came, faster and more vicious.

Ye Xiao's elbow slammed into the side of his sternum.

"Thump!!"

This wasn't just painful; it felt like all the energy in my body had dissipated and stopped.

Zhang Qiu's vision went black, the breath in his chest seemed to be shattered, and his legs went weak.

The next moment, Ye Xiao's shoulders and back slumped down like a city gate, directly knocking Zhang Qiu flying backward.

"Bang!!"

Zhang Qiu slammed his back against the platform, the wooden board trembled, and he fell face-first to the ground, the surrounding mist seeming to disperse.

Zhang Qiu tried to get up.

But he couldn't catch his breath. He could only manage a "ho" sound in his throat, as if someone was choking him and forcing air into his throat. Every breath was excruciatingly painful. It felt like there was an iron thorn stuck under his ribs. The more he moved, the more painful it became. He couldn't get up at all.

The area outside the arena was eerily quiet.

Those people who just mentioned "the true inner sect" still had their mouths open, but it was as if they were sealed by fog.

Tang Qi's face paled inch by inch. Only now did he realize that Ye Xiao had never considered him a match and had not used his true strength when fighting him.

Ye Xiao stared blankly at Zhang Qiu on the ground, his voice as flat as a curtain falling:

"Half an hour, thirty taels."

"Go and write it down."

Zhang Qiu's face was ashen, and blood was flowing from the corner of his mouth, but he didn't dare to say a word. He just struggled to climb off the fighting platform, his steps were obviously unsteady, as if those few blows had scattered his whole body.

The wooden sign fell with a "thud" once again:

"Zhang Qiuyao's mist-studded work lasts half an hour, thirty taels, to be registered under Ye Xiao's name."

The gaze from behind the fog had completely changed, from initially watching with amusement to later reconsidering... and even showing a hint of apprehension.

The area around the arena became eerily quiet.

The group of people who had been whispering amongst themselves instinctively swallowed their words, as if someone had pressed their breath down.

After Tang Qi and Zhang Qiu were defeated, everyone thought it was over.

They understood that Ye Xiao had fought two matches and had almost completely dominated both of them, making it virtually impossible to suppress him within the rules.

But just then, a figure emerged from the fog.

He was not tall, his shoulders and back were not exaggerated, his clothes were clean and neat, but his posture was extremely steady.

Each step landed lightly, yet with a steadiness as if he were firmly planted on the ground. Someone in the fog subconsciously took a breath; that imposing aura, which could intimidate anyone just by standing there, was rare among the entire inner sect.

"It's Senior Brother Xu Jingce."

Someone couldn't help but speak up, their voice extremely low, as if afraid of getting into trouble by emphasizing a name: "If he makes a move, the outcome will be a foregone conclusion, but he probably won't be interested in anyone except for a few people."

"That's not necessarily true. After all, Ye Xiao joining the Qingxiao Gang is a big deal. If we just let him go, what will the other martial arts schools think of us?"

Another person's face lit up with anticipation: "Senior Brother Xu is among the strongest inner disciples of the martial arts school, aside from those who are quasi-martial artists. No matter how strong Ye Xiao is, he won't be a match for him."

"Even if Senior Brother Xu were willing to make a move, Ye Xiao would never accept the challenge." Someone else shook their head: "Having won two consecutive matches, it wouldn't be shameful for him to refuse a fight."

Through the mist, Xu Jingce looked at Ye Xiao with a calm gaze, neither contemptuous nor excited.

Only a simple assessment.

"Can you still fight?" Xu Jingce asked.

As soon as these words were spoken, a low murmur arose from the surrounding crowd.

It's not a provocation, it's offering a way out.

Many people felt regret and pity that this third battle would not take place.

In their view, Ye Xiao stepping down at this point was the right choice and the one a normal person would make.

Ye Xiao raised his eyes and calmly asked, "Same bet, half an hour for the medicinal mist stake? And thirty taels left?"

The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere visibly froze.

"He's gone mad!" someone couldn't help but curse. "Is he unaware of Senior Brother Xu's strength, or is he courting death?"

The others didn't join in the cursing, but their expressions were even more direct. They all thought Ye Xiao was stupid and ignorant, practically walking into a trap.

Xu Jingce nodded, without uttering a single unnecessary word:

"Just half an hour and thirty taels."

Ye Xiao replied, "Okay."

At this moment, what is shocking is no longer the stakes.

Instead... Ye Xiao actually accepted the challenge.

Xu Jingce stepped onto the fighting platform.

Once he stood firm, it was as if he had locked his entire body in place, his shoulders, back, waist and abdomen becoming one, and his breathing becoming extremely steady.

Someone immediately gasped in a low voice from within the fog:

"Senior Brother Xu practices the Dragon-Locking Weighted Stance, which is the Locking Back Stance Technique... This system is invincible in continuous combat, allowing one to sink the breath into the collarbone, maintain uninterrupted power, become more and more stable as the fight progresses, and exert constant pressure."

"And then there's the added power of nine strikes..."

As soon as he said that, the surrounding sounds seemed to be silenced, and the room fell silent for a moment.

Nine shots.

Below the level of a quasi-martial artist, they are truly at the top of the inner sect.

Xu Jingce took a step.

His movements were slow, yet each step felt heavier than the last. His footwork was extremely stable, and his center of gravity remained firmly on the line that caused the most discomfort.

As the first step approached, Ye Xiao hadn't moved yet, but his chest tightened first.

With the second step, Xu Jingce pressed down, his shoulders and back sinking, his whole body pressing up as if brushing against the fog, forcing you to accept the attack without being able to dodge.

After a shoulder thrust, Xu Jingce immediately struck out with his palm.

"Bang!"

He slammed his palm down on Ye Xiao's raised arm bone.

The sound wasn't explosive, but it was frighteningly deep, muffled like a blunt hammer striking hard wood. Ye Xiao's forearm went numb instantly, as if heavy iron had been stuffed into his bones, his knuckles turned white from the pressure, and his shoulder line was forced to pull inward a bit.

Outside the fighting platform, someone's Adam's apple bobbed.

"As expected of Senior Brother Xu... This is not just a simple beating, it's suppression. He can suppress until the bone lines break, suppress until the stance strength dissipates, and suppress until the person collapses first."

Xu Jingce didn't stop.

The second palm strike followed immediately, using the same line of force and the same pressure point, as if trying to press a person to the ground.

"Bang!"

A tingling sensation traveled from his wrist all the way to his shoulder, forcing Ye Xiao to hold his breath even tighter, his breathing becoming shorter on the spot.

At this point, the true essence of the Dragon-Locking Weighted Stakes is revealed...

First, lock your breathing.

Lock the shoulder line again.

The pressure from the shoulders and back is not fast, but it's as steady as a latch, forcing the shoulder line to sag inward little by little.

Finally, lock your waist and hips.

With a slight sinking of the elbow and a downward grinding of the center of gravity, the wooden plank of the platform made a low, dull sound, as if it were bearing the weight for someone else. This was to gradually dissipate the stance and strength underfoot.

Xu Jingce's feet sank slightly, his blood and qi surged, and his back felt as if it were being locked inch by inch.

The nine sounds connected in a line within his body, not making a sound that could be heard by others, but causing the wooden planks of the fighting platform to emit a faint "clunking" sound.

Someone in the fog gasped:

"Nine rings lock the back... Senior Brother Xu is getting serious, the battle is about to end!"

Faced with this palm strike, a downward thrust, and a crushing blow, Ye Xiao's feet suddenly sank into the ground.

The moment the crimson pillar struck, the breath in his chest was forcibly compressed into a ball, as if scorching hot iron filings were being stuffed deep into his bones, burning and throbbing painfully.

The pain is not outwardly apparent.

It only burns the flesh and bones.

The more it burned, the more intensely his blood and qi surged, and the more his stance became concentrated and clean... like an iron bar stretched to its limit, neither dissipating nor drifting.

next moment.

Nine sounds also rang out inside Ye Xiao's body.

It wasn't an explosion, nor a sharp point; it was a series of dull, closing sounds, like nine bone gates being bolted down one after another, locked tightest.

Those outside the arena fell silent:

Nine shots?!

"How is that possible?!"

"He's also in the late stage of Bone Forging?!"

They thought it would be a one-sided battle, but it turned out to be a nine-shot war against nine shots.