Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

He stared wide-eyed at Fang Yuan's footsteps on the stage. Fang Yuan, who had been forced to retreat all over the stage by the first fifteen punches, began to retreat less and less from the sixteenth punch onwards, and by the eighteenth punch, he had stopped completely.

"He's wearing him down..." Fang Shi's voice was dry, as if he were forcing it out from his throat.

Fang Ping suddenly looked up.

On the stage.

The twentieth punch.

Fang Hao's fist came crashing down, and Fang Yuan blocked it with his arms crossed. After a muffled sound like metal clashing, Fang Hao staggered back half a step.

He stumbled.

It was Fang Hao who stumbled, not Fang Yuan.

Twenty punches.

After delivering twenty powerful punches without holding back, Fang Hao's exhaustion was beyond concealment. His arms hung limply at his sides, the muscles in his forearms spasming uncontrollably, his chest heaving violently, and sweat soaking through his training clothes, dripping down the hem and forming a small puddle at his feet.

On the other side, Fang Yuan's clothes were disheveled, his body was covered in bruises, and the training clothes on his left shoulder were completely torn, revealing a large area of ​​red and swollen flesh.

But he stood very straight.

His breathing was long and steady, and his eyes were frighteningly bright.

Like a calf bitten twenty times by a pack of wolves, it was covered in wounds, but its skeleton was not broken and its tendons were not injured. Instead, the wolves that attacked it collapsed from exhaustion first.

The air in the training ground condensed into a solid.

Everyone understood.

Fang Yuan wasn't unable to win, nor was he afraid to fight back.

He waited the whole time.

Fang Hao waited until he had emptied his pockets.

On the viewing platform, the teacup in Third Elder Fang Shoude's hand cracked with a "crack." He had been gripping it too tightly.

"This kid..." Fang Shoude's voice tightened, "Is he using his own body as a millstone, grinding Fang Hao's life force dry?"

The First Elder, Fang Shouye, did not speak, but his brows were furrowed into a tight knot.

Fang Zhengkun remained motionless.

But the two fingers he was twisting around his cuff remained still for a long time.

On the stage.

Fang Hao felt as if his chest was filled with lead, each breath incredibly heavy. He stared into Fang Yuan's eyes, and the image reflected in his pupils was no longer that of a wounded, useless member of a collateral branch of the family.

There was no pain, no reluctance, and not even hatred in those eyes.

There was only one thing that sent chills down Fang Hao's spine.

Determined.

The certainty of winning from the very beginning.

Fang Hao finally understood.

He didn't fight a satisfying, overwhelming battle; from the very first punch, he fell into Fang Yuan's rhythm.

Those retreats, those stumbles, those seemingly pathetic beatings—they were all bait fed to him.

Let him chase, let him fight, let him think he has victory in his grasp, let him pour his blood and energy into a bottomless pit that can never be filled.

Fang Hao's hands were trembling, not because he was exhausted. Of course, that was partly true. But even more so because of a feeling he had never experienced before.

fear.

He, a scion of the main branch of the Fang family, is now filled with fear of a collateral branch.

This realization was like a red-hot iron nail, driven deep into his mind.

"impossible……"

Fang Hao's lips moved slightly, but the sound was so soft that only he could hear it.

He did not accept this result.

He is Fang Hao, a direct descendant of the main family, a genius nurtured by the family's resources since childhood. How could he be worn down by a collateral descendant using such underhanded tactics?

Fang Hao's eyes suddenly became bloodshot.

He bit through the skin in his mouth, the salty, metallic taste of blood stimulating his nerves and burning away the last shred of reason.

He wants to gamble.

He poured out the last of his vital energy and threw a punch.

One punch decides the outcome.

Fang Hao kicked his legs hard, and the remaining blood and energy surged wildly within his body, like the last bucket of oil poured into a dying fire, igniting it with a roar. He pulled his right fist back to his waist, the bulging veins on his forearm almost bursting through his skin, and a faint layer of blood rose on the surface of his fist. That was the outward release of blood and energy pushed to its limit.

"Fang Yuan."

Fang Hao roared and sprang up from the table, his right fist slamming into Fang Yuan's face with a hissing sound.

This punch drew upon all his vital energy reserves.

If hit, Fang Yuan will surely fall.

If he misses, he'll be crippled first.

A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

Fang Ping suddenly stood up, his mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't utter a sound.

Fang Yuanshan leaned forward slightly and took a half-step forward with his right foot. It was a posture of being ready to go on stage to save people at any time.

Fang Yuan watched as the fist, wreathed in crimson energy, hurtled towards him.

They didn't dodge.

He waited for twenty punches, and this was the one he was waiting for.

The moment Fang Hao made that desperate gamble, he had already lost. Because making a desperate gamble meant that his body would have a window of vulnerability after throwing the punch, a window of vulnerability...

enough.

Fang Yuan lowered his waist and thrust his right fist out from his waist.

There was no shouting, no bloody shockwaves, and not even any earth-shattering momentum.

It was just one punch.

The blood and qi, which had been nourished for eight days by his doubled innate talent, poured out at this moment, flowing into his right arm and twisting into a solidified, almost liquid, hot stream that gathered on his fist.

The two fists collided in the center of the table.

boom.!

The shockwave exploded outwards from the point of impact, sending shards of stone from the platform flying and hitting the faces of the nearest spectators, leaving a slight stinging sensation.

Fang Hao's fist went limp the moment it made contact.

It wasn't that he stopped using his strength; it was that he ran out of strength.

The last bit of life force was completely dispersed in the collision. Fang Hao's right arm swung to the side like a puppet with its strings cut. He staggered back three steps, his heel landing on the gravel on the edge of the platform on his third step, and his body swayed violently.

His face was deathly pale.

Fang Yuan gave him no chance to catch his breath.

He pressed forward.

The first punch landed on Fang Hao's left ribs. This was the biggest opening Fang Hao exposed every time he threw a right punch, an opening Fang Yuan had discovered after enduring countless punches in the previous eight days of sparring.

The second punch landed on Fang Hao's right shoulder joint. When Fang Hao retracted his fist, his shoulder would subconsciously lift, creating a defensive vacuum in the shoulder socket. Fang Yuan only fully realized this weakness after being hit fifteen times.

The third punch landed squarely on Fang Hao's chest.

"Bang!"

Fang Hao's body arched like a shrimp, and a mouthful of blood spurted from his throat, the red and white blood mixing together and splattering onto Fang Yuan's fist.

Fang Yuan did not stop.

The fourth punch, the fifth punch, the sixth punch.

Every punch landed on Fang Hao's vital points, each punch as precise as if it had been practiced a hundred times. Each punch struck flesh with a dull thud, and Fang Hao's body swayed like a stalk of wheat in the wind under Fang Yuan's fists.

He could no longer lift his arms.

Fang Hao's consciousness swung violently between blurriness and clarity, his vision shattering into fragments. He saw Fang Yuan's fist grow larger again, slamming towards his face.

The final punch.

As Fang Yuan retracted his fist, he twisted his waist.

This tiny movement increased the force of the final punch by 30%, the fist grazing Fang Hao's jawbone and kicking up a cloud of blood.

Fang Hao's body left the table.

He was sent flying backward, over the stone railing at the edge of the platform, and crashed heavily onto the bluestone slab below the martial arts stage.

The stone slab shattered, and fragments flew everywhere.

Fang Hao lay on his back in the pile of rubble, his chest heaving twice before he stopped moving.

The streak of blood hanging from the corner of his mouth snaked from his chin to his ear, looking particularly glaring in the sunlight.

He fainted.

The training ground was deathly silent.

Fang Cheng's mouth was wide open, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but he couldn't utter a single word. Fang Yong fared even worse; he took two steps back, stepping on his own foot and nearly tripping.

The host's sons looked no better than the dead.

On the other side, Fang Shi's knees buckled, and he squatted down on the ground, covering his mouth with his hands, his shoulders trembling violently. It was impossible to tell whether he was crying or laughing.

Fang Ping stood on the stone steps, tears silently falling onto her feet.

He had never seen such a thrilling fight in his life.

On the viewing platform.

The teacup in Third Elder Fang Shoude's hand broke at some point, and tea spilled all over his hand, but he was completely unaware.

Elder Fang Shouye sat back in his chair, but his back was as stiff as an iron rod.

Fang Zhengkun sat in the center and slowly exhaled.

He looked at Fang Yuan on the stage.

The boy stood in the center of the martial arts stage, his training clothes tattered and his body covered in bruises, with a large patch of flesh on his left shoulder swollen and purple. But he stood very straight, his breathing steady, and Fang Hao's blood was stained on his fists, dripping down between his fingers and spreading into dark red flowers on the bluestone slabs beneath his feet.

Fang Yuanshan strode onto the martial arts stage, squatted down next to Fang Hao to check his pulse, and confirmed that he had only fainted due to exhaustion of qi and blood and was not in mortal danger before standing up.