Cultivation of immortality begins with an eighty-year-old eunuch.

Chapter 534 Breakthrough in Battle! Slaying!

After saying that, he stood up and walked towards the arena.

Behind him, Master Feihe suddenly spoke: "Chen Mu."

Chen Fan paused in his steps.

"If you're not confident, prioritize saving your life," Master Feihe said slowly.

Chen Fan didn't turn around, but simply nodded and continued walking towards the arena.

Duan Heng was already waiting on the arena.

This man was indeed extremely tall and strong, standing there like an iron tower, his muscles bulging and every muscle seemed to be cast from molten copper.

He was shirtless, with only an animal skin around his waist, and a menacing sand scorpion totem tattooed on his chest, wriggling slowly with his breath as if it were alive.

He looked down at Chen Fan as he stepped onto the arena, his eyes filled with undisguised contempt. He grinned and said, "You're that Chen Mu? You defeated Han Tieyi with a single sword strike? That piece of trash Han Tieyi, I could crush him with one hand. But you're unlucky to have run into me."

He clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking, his voice like muffled thunder: "You dare to come up here at the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment? I'll give you a chance. Kneel down and kowtow three times, call me Master Duan, and I'll make you admit defeat and get out of here, sparing your dog's life."

Chen Fan stood opposite him, his figure appearing exceptionally thin, as if a gust of wind could blow him over. He looked up at Duan Heng's fleshy face and said calmly, "Let's begin."

Duan Heng's smile froze, then his eyes flashed with a fierce light: "You won't listen to reason, so don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly took a step forward.

boom!

The entire arena trembled violently.

Duan Heng's massive body hurtled toward Chen Fan like a cannonball. His fist, as big as a clay pot, was enveloped in a layer of earthy yellow spiritual light. With a single punch, the air itself seemed to explode, producing a sharp sonic boom.

The speed and power of this punch had reached the pinnacle of the mid-stage Core Formation realm. Even before the punch arrived, the wind from it made Chen Fan's robes flutter loudly.

Chen Fan lightly touched the ground with his foot, his figure shifting three feet to the side like a ghost, barely avoiding the punch.

The fist grazed the hem of his clothes and slammed into the protective array at the edge of the ring, creating a violent ripple.

Duan Heng's attack missed, but he didn't care and followed up with his left fist. His fist technique was wide and powerful, each punch was heavy and forceful, like invisible giant hammers smashing down on Chen Fan. The wind from the punches stirred up the air on the stage, turning it into a turbid mess.

Chen Fan dodged continuously amidst the shadowy fists, his figure as elusive as a willow catkin. He didn't draw his sword, only constantly evaded. A faint gray-white light flickered in his eyes, a sign that he had pushed the Fixed Word Technique to the limit of the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment.

Although Duan Heng's punches were fierce, the trajectory of each punch was clearly visible under the perception of the Fixed Word Technique.

Chen Fan could even predict the landing point of his next punch in advance, thus making the most precise dodge.

But his mind wasn't on Duan Heng.

Deep within his dantian, the long-dormant nascent soul slowly opened its eyes. Its peak mid-stage nascent soul cultivation surged within its dantian like a volcano about to erupt.

The threshold between the mid and late stages of the Nascent Soul realm had already shown its first crack during the battle with Han Tieyi. Now, under Duan Heng's fist, that crack is expanding at a visible speed.

The reason Chen Fan did not rush to retaliate was that he was using Duan Heng's fist pressure to force the nascent soul in his dantian to accelerate its transformation.

That was his plan.

His year of arduous cultivation in the golden bowl had pushed his cultivation to the peak of the mid-Nascent Soul stage, just one step away from the late stage.

This kick doesn't require the accumulation of spiritual energy, but rather external pressure.

Like a spring compressed to its limit, it needs the weight of the last straw to fully spring back.

Duan Heng's punch was that last straw.

Duan Heng threw dozens of punches, but couldn't even touch the hem of Chen Fan's clothes, and gradually became anxious.

He roared, and his whole body shone with a bright earthy yellow spiritual light. The Great Desert Golden Body Technique was activated to its limit, and his whole body seemed to be coated with a layer of gold paint, shining brightly in the sunlight.

"What kind of skill is it to dodge and weave! If you've got the guts, take my punch head-on!"

Duan Heng roared, and the earthen-yellow light on his right fist suddenly surged threefold, making his entire fist look like a giant bronze hammer. He stomped his foot, causing the arena floor to crack inch by inch, and used the force to leap into the air, delivering a powerful punch from mid-air.

This punch already faintly possessed the power of the late-stage Core Formation realm.

Chen Fan stood still, no longer trying to dodge.

He looked up at the fist that was growing bigger and bigger, a gray-white light flashing deep in his eyes.

Within his dantian, the nascent soul suddenly opened its eyes, its small mouth opening wide as it swallowed the surging spiritual energy from its meridians like a whale drawing in water. The nascent soul's body shone with golden light, and the threshold between the mid and late stages shattered with a deafening roar.

Late stage of Nascent Soul.

A surge of powerful spiritual energy erupted from Chen Fan's body, like a volcano that had been dormant for many years suddenly erupting.

The level of that spiritual power was completely different from before. Although it only showed the outward fluctuations of the early stage of Core Formation under Chen Fan's deliberate suppression, the essential transformation could not be hidden from the eyes of any high-level cultivator present.

"What?!"

On the viewing platform, Wu Daozi of the Golden Sword Sect suddenly stood up, his face full of disbelief.

"He...he broke through?"

The white-haired elder of Hundred Herbs Valley also widened his eyes: "A breakthrough in the midst of battle? How is that possible!"

Master Feihe sat in his chair, his fingers trembling slightly. He could see clearly that Chen Mu hadn't broken through from the Great Perfection of Foundation Establishment to the Core Formation stage; the spiritual energy that erupted at that moment far exceeded the scope of Core Formation. But he didn't have time to think about it further, because a dramatic change had already occurred on the arena.

On the stage, Duan Heng's fist had already slammed into Chen Fan's head, three feet away.

Chen Fan drew his sword.

The moment Eleven was drawn, a grayish-white sword light shot into the sky. The light wasn't dazzling, but it carried an eerie aura that sent chills down one's spine!

Duan Heng felt a chill run from the soles of his feet straight to the top of his head.

He had cultivated the "Great Desert Golden Body Technique" for over thirty years, and his physical defense was so strong that few could rival him among his peers. Even the full-force sword strike of a late-stage Core Formation swordsman from the Golden Sword Sect could only leave a shallow white mark on his body.

But when faced with this sword, his entire body's instincts screamed wildly.

Unstoppable.

This sword strike is absolutely unstoppable.

"No!"

Duan Heng let out a terrified scream, trying to pull back his fist and retreat, but it was too late.

A gray-white sword light flashed past.

Duan Heng's burly body froze on the spot, as if someone had pressed the pause button.

His eyes were wide open, almost bulging out of their sockets, and his mouth was agape, but he couldn't make a sound.

The next moment, a thin line of blood spread down from his brow, across his nose, across his lips, across his throat, and across his chest.

His entire body, from head to toe, was cleaved in two by a single sword strike.

With a loud crash, the two halves of the body fell to the left and right respectively, blood and internal organs spilling onto the ground, staining the arena crimson.

The entire room fell silent.