Martial Arts: My talent multiplier increased

The day of the showdown.

Before dawn, preparations began on the martial arts arena in the outer courtyard of the Fang family.

Eight pillars were adorned with blue and white Fang family flags, and three tiers of wooden viewing platforms were laid around the arena. The platforms had been freshly painted with tung oil, giving them a dull sheen in the morning light.

As soon as Chen Shi (7-9 AM) arrived, people poured in.

The Fang family's outer courtyard was open to the public for a ceremony, a first in Liangshui City. The news had spread throughout half the city the day before yesterday; anyone who didn't come to watch the spectacle today was either paralyzed or dead.

Fang Yuan stood behind the window of the Class A courtyard, watching the outer courtyard gradually fill with people.

The east wing of the stands was the first to fill up. The main branch of the Fang family were arranged in three rows according to seniority and status. The front row consisted of prominent direct descendants, while the back row was for more distant collateral branches. Fang Cheng sat in the second row near the aisle. He had specially changed into a new robe today, with the embroidery on the collar meticulously done. He stretched his neck out like a goose, looking around.

The west side was the area for the collateral descendants. Fang Ping had arrived half an hour early to occupy the center seat in the first row, his hands clenched together on his knees, his knuckles white. Fang Shi sat next to him. Fang Shi's face was as stern as a stone slab; he didn't say a word, but his back was ramrod straight.

A few rows further back, a few unfamiliar faces sat scattered about. Fang Yuan glanced at them and recognized three—rogue cultivators from the Mercenary Guild, regular buyers of Qi and Blood Pills. They were there to watch the spectacle, and also to see if his medicine was truly effective.

The high platform on the north side.

Four armchairs were arranged side by side, their backs covered with dark gray brocade cushions. The Third Elder, Fang Shoude, sat down first, his cane propped up on the right side of the chair, his hand resting on the top of the cane, his posture composed. The Fourth Elder, Fang Shouan, followed closely behind, his hands crossed in front of his abdomen, the corners of his mouth curving into that familiar dividing line.

Second Elder Fang Shouzhen sat in the second chair on the left. His complexion was worse than a few days ago. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well last night.

Elder Fang Shouye was the last to arrive. The old man slowly moved to the right of the head of the table, glanced at the table before sitting down, and then settled into his chair. His index finger continued to tap the armrest every few breaths.

The highest position is empty.

Fang Zhengkun hadn't arrived yet. But his chair was already set out—an ebony armchair with the clan emblem carved on the back, standing half a head taller than the other four.

Fang Yuan's gaze shifted from the high platform on the north side to the south side.

The south side was the area for external spectators. Merchants, independent martial artists, and representatives of small and medium-sized families sat scattered in twos and threes, like people attending a market.

Fang Yuan's gaze settled on the second row on the south side, slightly to the right of center.

Li Jue.

He wore a moon-white long robe, with a jade pendant hanging at his waist. He sat upright with his hands resting on his knees. He was as gentle and refined as someone who had come to listen to a storyteller.

He sat on either side of him. The two middle-aged men in gray robes had unremarkable faces. But Fang Yuan's doubled innate senses allowed him to detect the two heavy fluctuations of qi and blood even from half a courtyard away.

Mid-stage of the Bone Refining Realm.

Li Jue brought two guards at the mid-stage of the Bone Refining Realm to "observe the ceremony".

Fang Yuan didn't linger at that spot for long. His gaze continued towards the south entrance, where he found another person.

City Guard Squad Leader.

He had a square face, high cheekbones, and small, bright eyes. He wasn't seated in the viewing area, but stood to the right of the outer courtyard entrance, followed by two city guards.

His hands were empty, and a standard-issue sword hung at his waist. But Fang Yuan noticed a bulge in the lining of his breastplate, located slightly below his left breast.

He had something tucked in his arms.

Is it the same report that was rejected last time? Or is it a newly written arrest warrant?

Fang Yuan's pupils contracted slightly.

Li Jue's plan was working perfectly. Fang Yuan lost, and the pill business was immediately declared dead. The city guard squad leader immediately came up with the completed documents to "assist in the investigation"—Fang Yuanshan had already stepped in to act as referee, so no one was blocking the door. After a series of moves, Fang Yuan was dragged directly from the martial arts arena into the city guard's garrison.

It is open and legal.

Fang Yuan lightly scratched the window frame with his finger.

A small piece of paint was scraped off the window frame, revealing the grayish-white wood underneath.

He withdrew his hand and turned to walk to the corner of the room.

A bowl of blood-nourishing soup sat on the table. It was the top-tier morning ration. Fang Yuan picked up the bowl and gulped it down in one go.

The medicinal power descended down the esophagus, crashing into the abdominal cavity, where it was instantly absorbed by the body, which was twice the size of its bone structure. The blood and qi of the late-stage Flesh Refining Realm flowed steadily through the meridians, thick and condensed.

Fang Yuan put down the bowl and left the room.

It was 3:45 AM. The sun had risen directly above the drill ground.

Fang Yuan passed through the moon gate of the Grade A courtyard and walked onto the stone path connecting to the outer courtyard. He was wearing the Fang family's standard training uniform, a dark gray short jacket tucked into his belt, the cuffs pulled tight. There was no protective gear, no extra equipment. On his feet were a pair of worn black cloth boots, the soles worn thin.

The black iron token at his waist tapped lightly against the belt buckle as he walked, making a soft tinkling sound.

From a distance, it looked like a sixteen-year-old boy walking in the sun, his pace neither fast nor slow.

Fang Teng is already on stage.

As Fang Yuan rounded the last bend in the connecting corridor, he saw Fang Teng's back. He was standing on the north side of the martial arts arena, facing the elders' seats on the high platform, warming up.

This is not ordinary stretching.

Three wooden stakes stood along the edge of the training platform. They were about the thickness of a person's waist, embedded in the stone base, with the protruding parts reaching over a meter in height. These were standard training stakes for the martial arts hall, made of old linden wood from the Northern Mountains. The wood was incredibly hard; a punch from an ordinary Body Refining Realm cultivator would only leave a shallow mark.

Fang Teng walked to the first wooden stake and stood still.

Sink your shoulders. Straighten your back. Throw your fist.

"Thump!"

The sound was extremely muffled.

It wasn't the crisp sound of a fist hitting wood, but a low-frequency vibration emanating from within the stake. Like a drum being struck while submerged in water.

A deep indentation appeared on the surface of the wooden stake. It wasn't dented, but rather pressed in. The veneer around the fist-shaped surface was intact, but the grain at the bottom of the indentation had cracked.

Bone resonance.

The unique power generation method of the Bone Refining Realm. After the bones have been repeatedly tempered by Qi and blood, when punching, not only is muscle power transmitted, but also high-frequency vibrations from the bones themselves are carried out. This vibration is amplified internally after being transmitted to the target.

To put it simply, when you hit someone, the skin and flesh don't break, but the bones inside shatter first.

Fang Teng moved to the second wooden stake.

"Thump!"

The third one.

"Thump!"

Each of the three wooden stakes had a deep indentation. The three punches were at the same height and with the same force.

Fang Teng withdrew his fist and turned to face the audience.

He didn't deliberately look at anyone, but everyone saw the three wooden stakes.

In the area inhabited by collateral relatives, discussions erupted and were then suppressed.

Fang Ping's knuckles clenched so tightly they cracked. He stared at the three marks on the wooden stake, his Adam's apple bobbing twice.

The material of the three wooden stakes is completely different from the ironwood targets used in martial arts training. Ironwood targets are harder, but linden wood stakes are more resilient—it takes more than three times the penetrating power required to press out such deep marks.

Fang Shi sat down next to Fang Ping, his expression shifting from tense to deathly pale. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

The three rogue cultivators from the mercenary guild squeezed into the last row of the west wing. The one in the lead was a bearded man who touched his right rib—at the beginning of the month, he had taken on an escort mission with the guild and was punched by a mountain bandit at the Bone Refinement Realm, fracturing two of his ribs, which were still aching.

He knew all too well what it felt like to be struck by a fist from that level of skill.

The bearded man glanced at Fang Teng's figure on the stage, then looked towards the entrance. Fang Yuan was still not in his sight. He whispered something to his companion beside him, so quiet that only the two of them could hear.

How could he win?

My companion didn't answer, but their expression said it all.

The main residential area on the east side.

Fang Cheng stared at the three marks left by the wooden stakes, and finally couldn't help but curl his lips upwards. He turned to the side and nudged Fang Yong next to him with his elbow.

"See that? That's what you call the Bone Refining Realm."

Fang Yong nodded repeatedly. The image of Fang Teng defeating Fang Yuan in five moves on the martial arts stage last time was still vivid in his mind. Today, Fang Teng was serious. If he was already displaying this level of power in the warm-up, wouldn't he beat Fang Yuan to a pulp on stage?

"The revenge Fang Hao suffered that day can be taken today." Fang Cheng lowered his voice, the undisguised joy in his words seeming to leak out from between his teeth.

South side.

Li Jue sat down, turning her gaze away from Fang Teng's warm-up performance.

The gray-robed guard to his right leaned forward slightly, his lips moving.

"Young Master, the city guards have confirmed it. The paperwork has been completed, and the official medical department's verification stamp was affixed yesterday afternoon. As soon as the outcome of the duel is known, Captain Wang can proceed with the procedures on the spot."