Chapter 484 483: Burning Gold into Steel, Crushing Iron into Mud!

Inside the box.

The moment Fenric agreed to the exchange, the atmosphere grew tense.

Xiao Ling'er and Zohyan both fixed their eyes on Fenric and Old Man Xiao, their expressions solemn.

These were two innate masters!

As martial artists themselves, they naturally understood the terrifying strength of such beings.

Once unleashed, their power was comparable to monsters.

Two innate masters exchanging blows—no one wanted to miss that.

For Xiao Ling'er, this was also the perfect chance to confirm her suspicion that Fenric might be nothing more than a fraud.

And so, the competition began.

Xiao Ling'er originally thought her grandfather would strike directly at Fenric, but instead, Old Man Xiao smiled, pulled out a pair of steel balls, and rolled them a few times in his palm. Then he looked at Fenric and said with a chuckle:

"Little friend Fenric, these iron guts in my hand are said to have been forged from the Iron Mother itself. Why don't you test their weight with your own palms?"

"Gladly," Fenric replied.

"Then please, little friend—catch!"

As Old Man Xiao's voice fell, the steel balls shot from his hand with explosive speed, whistling through the air like bullets toward Fenric.

The force behind them was devastating, yet measured.

Old Man Xiao wasn't aiming to kill—merely to test. If Fenric were truly a fraud, this single throw would at least leave him crippled, though not dead.

A flash of motion.

Fenric's hand appeared and effortlessly snatched the incoming iron balls from midair.

"..!"

"..."

The box echoed with silence.

The destructive power of Old Man Xiao's throw was neutralized as easily as plucking fruit from a tree. Fenric's expression remained calm, even relaxed.

Old Man Xiao's cloudy eyes sharpened.

To take such force so lightly—just that single move was enough for him to confirm that Fenric's strength was no less than his own.

Xiao Ling'er, however, was struck speechless.

The speed, the power, the sharpness of her grandfather's throw—it was like a gunshot. And yet Fenric had caught it in one motion, without even flinching.

Zohyan let out a silent breath of relief.

He had vouched for Fenric. If Fenric had failed, he would have lost all face before his teacher.

But Fenric didn't stop there.

"Crunch!"

Fenric's palm tightened, and the iron balls deformed instantly, squeezing out between his fingers like soft clay.

Iron, crushed into mud.

The sight left Xiao Ling'er utterly stunned.

Just how much strength did one need to knead solid steel as though it were plasticine?

And yet—it still wasn't over.

The next moment, the temperature in the entire box spiked violently.

"Fwoosh!"

A massive flame burst from Fenric's hand, blazing with terrifying heat.

This was his innate flame ability, its peak temperature nearing three thousand degrees.

The melting point of steel? Barely fifteen hundred.

Within seconds, the crushed iron in his hand glowed red, then white, before dripping into molten liquid. It streamed between his fingers and fell into the wine glass before him.

"Clink—"

The liquor inside boiled furiously, evaporating in an instant, leaving behind only a bead of glowing molten metal that solidified into a perfect teardrop shape.

Fenric closed his hand, extinguishing the flames. He smiled faintly.

"My apologies, Elder Xiao. I may have ruined your iron ball."

The box fell into absolute silence.

Xiao Ling'er and Zohyan could only stare, utterly shaken.

Only Old Man Xiao managed to keep his composure, though his entire body radiated an overwhelming aura as his gaze locked firmly on Fenric.

As an innate martial artist, he could clearly see that this youth was no ordinary innate master.

To burn metal with flame—this was the realm of one who had mastered innate qi itself.

Someone far above his own level.

What truly unnerved him, however, was that throughout all of Fenric's movements, he had not detected the slightest ripple of blood or qi being mobilized.

Every warrior, when exerting power, left behind traces.

But Fenric—none.

That was terrifying beyond words.

In his eyes, this young man's realm was not only equal to his own—it was vastly higher, hidden so deeply he could not even fathom it.

Of course, Elder Xiao could never have guessed that Fenric was not a traditional martial artist at all. What he wielded was not qi, but the power of flame itself.

Still, Fenric's overwhelming vitality and blood energy gave the illusion of a peerless grandmaster.

And so, Elder Xiao's heart trembled with awe.

His granddaughter had told him that Fenric was only eighteen.

Eighteen—and already at this level?

An eighteen-year-old innate master was already monstrous, the kind of genius seen once in centuries.

But an eighteen-year-old grandmaster?

Unthinkable.

Unbelievable.

Such a thing would never be written in stories, much less believed in real life.

For the difference between an innate master and a grandmaster was a chasm wider than heaven and earth.

A grandmaster was one who could embrace all rivers, harmonize all paths.

Such masters could integrate any martial art seamlessly, their qi vast and endless, like an ocean feeding countless rivers.

In short—grandmasters were no longer human, but monsters.

Across the world, martial artists were countless, yet true grandmasters numbered fewer than one hundred.

A rare breed, treasures of their era.

Was Fenric one of them? Elder Xiao couldn't be certain.

But whether he was or wasn't—Fenric stood close enough to that realm that it scarcely mattered.

Earlier, when Fenric had declared he would win the martial arts championship, Elder Xiao had dismissed it as youthful arrogance.

Now, he believed it wholeheartedly.