The Peerless Emperor (TPE)

No one present could have anticipated that Ding Zhirong would give up the challenge and even admit that he was inferior to Lin Qian! There was still time before noon, so forfeiting the challenge now didn't count as a loss—he would still retain the opportunity to challenge again. Only in the event of a failed challenge would he lose his chance.

"We haven't even fought yet, and you already know you're not as good as me?" Ding Zhirong's reaction took Lin Qian by surprise. He raised an eyebrow and stared into Ding Zhirong's eyes.

The soul power that had been gathered in Ding Zhirong's eyes gradually dissipated, and Lin Qian began to understand.

"My martial soul's trait is perception. Although I can't determine the exact strength of my opponent, I can gauge the level of threat they pose to me," Ding Zhirong explained slowly, his gaze fixed on Lin Qian. "The levels are: harmless, normal, challenging, hellish, nightmare, and death. Zhao Haiming's threat level to me falls somewhere between challenging and hellish. The person who gave me this scar was at a hellish level."

The other Inner Sect disciples weren't surprised by Ding Zhirong's words, as they were already familiar with his martial soul's trait. However, Lin Qian found it intriguing and asked with great interest, "And what about me?"

Ding Zhirong was silent for a long moment before closing his eyes and finally responding, "Death."

When he opened his eyes again and looked at Lin Qian, his brow furrowed slightly. "You make me afraid. The title of Young Emperor is truly deserved!"

With that, Ding Zhirong turned and stepped down from the battle platform, preparing to leave. The highly anticipated battle ended with an absurd conclusion. Yet, Ding Zhirong's parting words left the other Inner Sect disciples staring at Lin Qian in shock.

Those who had joined the sect alongside Ding Zhirong knew his character well. He was someone who disdained lying, so his words must have been genuine. Moreover, Ding Zhirong was known for his obsession with battle, seemingly ignorant of fear. And now, this very man had admitted to being afraid of Lin Qian.

Ding Zhirong's perception had placed Lin Qian at the death level—such a conclusion left the disciples below the platform involuntarily turning their eyes toward Lin Qian.

"Just how strong is Lin Qian?"

As Lin Qian stepped down from the platform, Lei Qian remarked with admiration, "Winning without a fight—boss, you're really something."

"Now it's your turn!" Lin Qian replied, giving Lei Qian a playful punch to the chest as he passed by.

Stumbling back a few steps from the punch, Lei Qian grinned through the pain and shook his head as he ascended the battle platform. His action immediately caught the attention of the Inner Sect disciples, who had been on the verge of leaving.

"In the presence of my fellow Inner Sect brothers and sisters, I, Lei Qian, challenge Zhao Haiming!" Lei Qian declared loudly, his eyes locking onto a specific spot in the crowd. "Brother Zhao, please come up."

Lei Qian's words stunned everyone present, and all eyes followed his gaze. The disciples parted, revealing a young man standing at the center. This young man had long hair, a lazy demeanor, and was dressed in a light blue robe. He yawned, his eyes tearing up from the effort.

This was none other than Zhao Haiming, the undisputed number one disciple of the Inner Sect.

Ding Zhirong, who had not gone far, paused and turned back to the edge of the platform.

"Lei Qian must be crazy. He's actually challenging Zhao Haiming?"

"Sure, he might have defeated Lei Kuo, but Lei Kuo was only ranked ninth in the Inner Sect. Zhao Haiming is the top disciple."

"There's a rumor that ever since Lei Qian acknowledged Lin Qian as his boss, he's been training under him every day on Mount Maoqing. Maybe his strength has improved significantly."

"But no matter how much he's improved, how much stronger could he have gotten? Defeating Zhao Haiming is just wishful thinking."

Zhao Haiming slowly ascended the platform, standing opposite Lei Qian with half-closed eyes, observing him. After a long moment, Zhao Haiming's eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Are you... really Lei Qian?"

"As real as it gets," Lei Qian replied.

"What has happened to you since you started following Lin Qian? How did you become this strong?" Zhao Haiming asked, frowning as he took three steps back, his expression growing serious.

Zhao Haiming's reaction sent a wave of astonishment through the crowd. They never expected him to acknowledge Lei Qian's newfound strength.

Ding Zhirong, standing below the platform, also looked shocked. As Zhao Haiming's long-time rival, he was well aware of his habits. When Zhao Haiming shifted from his usual lazy demeanor to a serious one, it was always because he was facing a formidable opponent. Not even Ding Zhirong had seen Zhao Haiming react this way before.

Ding Zhirong focused his soul power on his eyes, examining Lei Qian closely, and was taken aback by what he saw.

"Somewhere between hellish and nightmare levels, and dangerously close to nightmare?" Ding Zhirong took a deep breath, clenching his fists.

He knew who Lei Qian was—the grandson of the Grand Elder, Thunder King Lei Heng. During their time in the Outer Sect, Lei Qian had shown considerable talent, albeit with a somewhat arrogant personality. But now, it seemed like he had transformed into a completely different person. The only explanation was what the other disciples had mentioned—Lei Qian had lost to Lin Qian in a life-and-death battle and had subsequently followed him, training every day on Mount Maoqing.

Ding Zhirong glanced at Lin Qian, who stood quietly below the platform, watching the fight. "Who exactly are you?"

With the elder presiding over the match, Lei Qian and Zhao Haiming's battle officially began.

From the outset, Lei Qian unleashed a terrifying burst of soul power, instantly summoning his Yuan Weapon. Wielding the Thunder Blade, he charged at Zhao Haiming.

"Nine layers of soul power aura? Wasn't Lei Qian supposed to have completed only eight rounds of Nirvana?"

"No way! Could he have completed an additional round of Nirvana? That's impossible! Just recently, he only had eight layers."

Lei Qian's first move sent shockwaves through the crowd, prompting gasps from the onlookers below. What followed on the battle platform left them even more astounded.

Zhao Haiming was sent flying by Lei Qian's strike!

"What's going on?" Zhao Haiming gripped his Yuan Weapon, a heavy sword, his arms numb from the impact. His hands bled from torn skin, and the earth-attribute soul power that enveloped him began to dissipate.

Zhao Haiming, who wielded a heavy sword with the "Thousand Weight" martial soul trait—a grade-three upper trait that doubled the weight of his weapon without affecting his movements—found himself struggling to fend off Lei Qian's relentless storm of attacks. Despite being known for his powerful offense and defense, Zhao Haiming had never been this overwhelmed, not even against Ding Zhirong.

"Thunder Strike!" Lei Qian's eyes flashed with lightning as he surged forward, his sword glowing with purple light as it descended upon Zhao Haiming.

"Urgh!" Zhao Haiming spat out a mouthful of blood as he was sent flying, crashing to the ground. His grip on his Yuan Weapon faltered, and his weapon was disarmed.

The outcome was clear, and the entire arena fell into a stunned silence.