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["Listen up, connect, sway to my beat!"]
A massive soundwave blasted outward in all directions, crashing against the arena's edges and rippling the air.
Even with the arena's protective barrier, the loud, grating noise still carried far.
People watching other fights snapped their heads toward Arena 10 when the music hit.
In this day and age, a tacky DJ beat like that was rare as hell.
And using it to attack? That'd grab anyone's attention.
Ye Bufan's face twisted as the soundwaves rolled toward him—ugly as sin!
Group attack—huge range, no dodging it.
His hands flew through seals, a golden glow flashing over him. "Eight Gates Escape Armor—Suppress!"
[Boom!]
The terrifying soundwaves slammed into the golden light. Ye Bufan's body shuddered a few times, his expression souring further.
His defense blocked some of it, but his insides still churned like boiling water.
And that was just one group hit from this guy.
Sure, the level gap played a part, but the difference was brutal.
Red-haired Killmatt struck goofy poses to the beat, taunting nonstop:
"Oh, not bad, huh? You blocked my first wave, but my rhythm ain't stopping!"
The relentless soundwaves battered his golden shield, wearing it thin. His guts roiled harder,
and random urges to groove to the beat kept popping into his head.
Ye Bufan shook it off, frowning—this couldn't go on.
He locked eyes on Killmatt, still bopping to the music.
Best defense is offense!
"Tao-Born Sword!"
Seals flashed through his fingers, a spark at his fingertip growing blindingly bright before streaking forward as a massive sword beam.
The giant slash hit Killmatt's body—but passed right through like he was a ghost.
[Boom!]
The sword beam smashed into the arena's edge, roaring loud.
Killmatt spun a full 360 in place, smirking at Ye Bufan:
"In my music, I'm invincible! No one breaks a Killmatt's rhythm—give up and party with me!"
The challengers below, drawn by the tunes, furrowed their brows at the scene.
"What's this ability—ignoring attacks?"
"How'd I handle a guy like that?!"
"Heh, Killmatt clan—rare sight."
"History says the Killmatt tribe peaked around 2000 AD, then vanished. Who'd guess they'd show up today?"
"Killmatts are out—wonder if the 'Spirit Lads'…"
Blood trickled from Ye Bufan's mouth on the arena, his golden shield teetering on collapse.
Staring at Killmatt's nonstop weird poses, he muttered:
"Rhythm, rhythm—it's all about rhythm!"
[Harmony with the Dust!]
A giant Taiji diagram spread from his feet, slowly radiating outward. Wherever it passed, everything slowed.
The brutal soundwaves hit the Taiji, their tempo dragging, then fading away.
The diagram kept expanding, swallowing the whole arena.
Ye Bufan wiped the blood from his lips hard. "That's it? If that's all, it's my turn!"
Killmatt halted his bizarre dance, the corner of his mouth under red bangs twitching up. His chain stopped swinging as he flicked his hair, revealing one eye:
"Not bad, huh? But like I said—that was just the appetizer. If you couldn't handle that, I'd be disappointed.
Now, I'm getting serious!"
[Eight Gates Armor Break]
[Tao-Born Sword]
[Shadow Drive]
[Divine Strike]
Ye Bufan's seals flew, unleashing a flurry of skills. Against a higher-level foe, he wasn't holding back.
Killmatt eyed the incoming barrage, smirking. "You know what love is?
Guess not—watch this!
If You Don't Love, Don't Hurt!"
[If You Don't Love, Don't Hurt]
As he spoke, six dazzling, rainbow-hued characters spun around him in a shimmering orbit.
Ye Bufan's skills hit the glowing words—and veered off to the side.
The sight left not just Ye Bufan, but every challenger below, slack-jawed.
"What the hell kind of skill is that?!"
"What's this power—never heard of anything that nuts!"
"Redirecting skills—what's this crap?!"
Su Mo, perched on Arena 1, frowned at the display.
If the guy came at him straight, no sweat. But this freaky skill? He wasn't sure how to crack it.
Could his raw power smash through those words?
"Done yet? My turn—[Love Like a Tide]!"
A massive wave hoisted Killmatt up, crashing forward.
Even Ye Bufan's [Harmony with the Dust] couldn't stop the flood.
Killmatt rode the crest, spinning his chain, then lashed out. Next thing, Ye Bufan was airborne, blasted off the arena.
Sure, it wasn't the clean, quick kill Su Mo pulled off—but for sheer flashiness, ten Su Mos couldn't touch this.
Killmatt flicked his red hair, one eye glinting at Su Mo. "I'm at No. 9 now—see you soon!"
He didn't hold the spot—kept challenging up.
Su Mo ignored him, turning to another fight.
His earlier opponents got one-punched to death. This was his first real look at fancy skill-slinging combat.
Gotta say, he was hooked—kinda itching for some flash of his own.
Meanwhile, handpicked foreign elites started flexing their terrifying strength.
A shadowy figure popped into the sky, eyeing the fights below with a dissatisfied headshake, then boomed:
"This is too slow. Real champs don't need breaks. Next challenges—no rest, unlimited fights. Eight hours from now, whoever's standing's my disciple!"
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