Chapter 236 - 115: I’m Not Even Afraid of My Mom, Why Would I Be Afraid of You?

Chapter 236: Chapter 115: I’m Not Even Afraid of My Mom, Why Would I Be Afraid of You?

"I’m not even afraid of my own parents!"

"So why would I be scared of you?"

Yang Mo felt his chest swell with courage. The fight was already ugly enough. What more could he possibly lose?

He had always seen every opponent as terrifying, which was why he was always so timid.

But Zhao Ci was right.

No matter how terrifying they were, could they be worse than his own parents?

Ying Rui?

’To hell with him!’

His mind had lost the ability to think. His thoughts were dominated by a single purpose.

’Fight!’

He unleashed a flurry of Turtle Fists. They seemed to follow some basic punching principle, yet were utterly without form.

Ying Rui had seen this kind of display before; he often encountered it when fighting local thugs. But he had never seen it delivered with such intensity.

When it came to facing the Turtle Fist, he had plenty of experience.

He raised his arm to block while simultaneously sidestepping and sweeping his right foot low across the ground.

If the sweep connected, his opponent was sure to fall.

Then, no matter how enraged, he would be nothing but a stationary target.

As expected, Yang Mo suddenly lost his balance and stumbled, toppling toward the ground.

The corners of Ying Rui’s mouth curled into a contemptuous smile, but it froze midway. As he fell, Yang Mo had unexpectedly locked his arms tightly around Ying Rui’s waist, and both men crashed heavily to the ground together.

The moment they landed, Yang Mo’s fists came hammering down. THUD! THUD!

"I’m taking you down with me!"

The punches lacked any form.

Without a stable stance, they naturally lacked much power.

But Yang Mo’s legs were locked around Ying Rui, preventing him from getting up either.

Ying Rui was stunned. In all his years of martial arts, he had never fought like this. He couldn’t break free, nor could he dodge. His only option was to trade blows with Yang Mo. Pinned to the ground, he couldn’t generate optimal power for his punches, and they too devolved into Turtle Fists.

And so, the two men, entangled on the ground, flailed at each other with Turtle Fists.

"Sssss..."

"What the hell is this!"

"So this is how they’re going to fight?"

Everyone present was dumbfounded. No one had expected this match to turn out this way.

The members of the three Prince’s Mansions who had just been defeated by Ying Rui had particularly priceless expressions.

Though they had lost, their defeats had been like a battle between Immortals.

But now, that same respected opponent in their hearts was brawling like this with Yang Mo, the weakest fighter from all eight mansions.

The two of them were like a pair of old village women tearing at each other’s hair in the mud.

They were evenly matched.

But it was hideous!

Any prestige the match held vanished in an instant.

Forget gold, there wasn’t even a scrap of copper value left in it!

"Gasp..."

Zhu Li drew in a sharp breath. "Boss! Yang Mo’s performance against Ying Rui seems even more ferocious than the Ninth Prince’s was!"

Zhao Yong: "???"

’This girl has such a nasty way of insulting people.’

Zhao Ci finally let out a sigh of relief. ’Good, the Rash Man Talisman has been activated. At least this will keep Lao Mo from being crushed by his Heart Demon.’

By triggering the Rash Man Talisman, he had also finally gotten a clear grasp of the root of Yang Mo’s problem.

Although this fight was ugly, it was extremely valuable.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

The exchange of Turtle Fists was fought with a strange passion.

Ying Rui took quite a few punches, and his face immediately began to swell.

Fortunately, his mind remained clear. While trading Turtle Fists, he was frantically trying to break free from the lock of Yang Mo’s legs.

Finally.

WHAM!

A kick slammed into Yang Mo’s stomach, sending them both sliding far apart.

Yang Mo felt his insides twist into knots, his body curling up like a shrimp.

Ying Rui finally got to his feet. Hearing the boos from the entire crowd, he felt deeply humiliated. He clenched his fists and charged at Yang Mo.

But just then, a figure stepped in front of him.

Zhao Ci raised his head. "Seventh Imperial Brother, I concede this match on behalf of Yang Mo."

Zhao Yan nodded slightly. "Yang Mo is defeated!"

"You..."

Ying Rui’s rage had nowhere to go. Feeling suffocated with frustration, he couldn’t help but sneer, "How much were you paid to protect your own worthless Mansion Official, Your Highness? If you compete like this, does the Tenth Prince’s Mansion even have a future?"

"The future of the Tenth Prince’s Mansion is none of your damn business."

Zhao Ci scoffed, "The Tenth Prince’s Mansion is currently ranked first in achievements. Was that your doing?"

Ying Rui choked, "I..."

Zhao Ci turned to glance back, and only after confirming that Feng Kucha and Zhu Li were helping the semi-conscious Yang Mo off the platform did he raise his voice. "Seventh Imperial Brother, I will fight this round. I find this person’s strength to be severely lacking. I need to thrash him a bit to quickly crush any thoughts he has of joining our Tenth Prince’s Mansion."

"Gasp..."

Gasps echoed across the field.

Just when they thought Ying Rui was arrogant, someone even more arrogant had shown up.

Although they all agreed that based on the earlier Martial Arts Competition, Zhao Ci’s overall performance was likely the strongest among the eight mansions.

But they certainly didn’t think he was strong enough to steamroll his opponents.

The only truly difficult fights Zhao Ci had were against Zhu Yan and Feng Tianxi. He won one inexplicably, and the other was an incredibly hard-fought victory.

His other bouts were mostly superficial skirmishes.

Everyone knew Zhao Ci’s True Qi was abundant, and not wanting to be completely worn down by him and lose out on other points, they had made the strategic choice to concede.

But if it came down to an all-out fight, Zhao Ci might not win every match, because the later performances of Zhao Yong and Zhao Xie were a solid tier above Feng Tianxi’s.

And yet, Zhao Yong, who had forged Second-Grade Bones just last night and whose strength had grown by leaps and bounds, had still been defeated by Ying Rui.

For Zhao Ci to say something like that seemed far too arrogant.

Ying Rui’s brows furrowed, but he paid no mind to Zhao Ci’s arrogance. Instead, he said in a heavy voice, "Your Highness! You are a Prince of this nation, so why do you carry the air of a reckless commoner? This competition concerns the future of the Great Yu. Is this a place for you to act on personal whims?"

[Ying Rui’s Current Wish]: Help Great Yu rebuild the Yun Dynasty and restore the Celestial Essence Golden Age. Reward for Completion: Insight +10,000, Celestial Essence Imperial Seal x1.

Zhao Ci: "..."

’So this kid isn’t just a trash-talker... he genuinely wants to rebuild his ideal Yun Dynasty?’