Chapter 20 Lin Feng Vs Zhao Feng

The instant the Enforcement disciple’s hand fell, Zhao Feng moved. There was no testing strike and no wasting moment. His body shot forward with condensed qi sharpening the edge of his palm, and the pressure that rolled off him made Lin Feng’s previous matches feel suddenly immature. This was not the same Zhao Feng from the courtyard on day one. That version had been arrogant and loose. This one had refined the humiliation into something much more.

Lin Feng activated Fleet Footed Coward Dash at once. His body lightened and moved sideways , narrowly escaping the first palm. The strike split the air where his chest had been and slammed a ripple through the protective formation at the platform edge. Before Lin Feng could fully reset, Zhao Feng had already chained the next attack into his recovery line, faster and cleaner than expected.

The second strike smashed into Lin Feng’s guard. Pain burst through both arms and the crowd roared.

"Zhao Feng has him! It’s over!"

Lin Feng slid back five full steps, shoes grinding hard against stone as h is forearms went numb. Zhao Feng did not give him time to shake it off. The next sequence came immediately. High feint, low sweep, rising elbow, reverse palm. Each movement cut off one more angle. Lin Feng used Fleet Footed Coward Dash again, then again, surviving by margins narrow enough to make the front rows suck in their breath.

He was weaker and Zhao Feng had clearly came prepared for him. The old Zhao Feng would have overcommitted early from anger. This one did not. His attacks stayed controlled under the pressure.Every time Lin Feng tried to create an ugly angle, Zhao Feng corrected faster than Huang Fei or Pan Qing ever had.

"You think I wasted these days?" Zhao Feng said as he pressed forward. "I trained with one image in mind. You, under my hand again."

Lin Feng’s mouth curved even as his shoulder throbbed.

"Well you’re welcome."

Zhao Feng’s eyes hardened but his rhythm did not break. He launched another hard exchange and clipped Lin Feng’s side hard enough to tear the breath from his lungs. Lin Feng staggered, blocked the follow up by instinct, and felt his back foot skim dangerously close to the boundary. The plaza already smelled the ending.

"Push him off!"

Lin Feng gritted his teeth and forced his body sideways with another burst of Fleet Footed Coward Dash. He escaped by less than a breath. Sweat slid down his jaw. His arms shook from repeated impacts. For the first time in the assessment, pure timing was not enough. So he changed the fight. He activated the Thin Face Amulet.

The cool film settled over him, and he cut directly into the old wound.

"You trained hard," Lin Feng said, loud enough for the front half of the plaza to hear. "Good. You should. Falling into a puddle in front of half the outer sect leaves a deep impression. Tell me, when you practiced these sequences, did you also practice how not to end up in the mud again?"

Laughter burst from the crowd and Zhao Feng’s face hardened, and for the first time since the match began, his next attack came a fraction heavier than necessary.

Lin Feng paid for that sentence with blood. Zhao Feng smashed through his outer defense and struck him square in the chest. The impact detonated through Lin Feng’s ribs and sent him skidding to one knee. Air vanished from his lungs. The protective formation at the edge flared as his heel scraped it.

"Lin Feng!" Lu Cang’s voice cracked from below.

Zhao Feng stepped in to finish it, palm already gathering a denser layer of qi.

Lin Feng’s vision pulsed at the edges. The pressure in his chest did not only come from the hit. The Rage Value accumulated through the assessment, the forced circulation under life threatening stress, and the system’s continuous rewards all surged together at once. His meridians, already expanded beyond their original state, strained hard then tore open another layer.

A hot current exploded from his dantian.

[Breakthrough conditions met under extreme pressure]

[Qi Condensation Level 2 → Qi Condensation Level 3]

[Meridian capacity increased]

[Body reinforcement rising]

Lin Feng dragged in a raw breath as new strength flooded his limbs. The numbness in his arms receded by a degree. His qi, previously thin and reactive, suddenly thickened enough to push back.Zhao Feng’s finishing palm descended.

Lin Feng met the attack halfway, using the fresh surge to stabilize his frame, then triggered Fleet Footed Coward Dash at the final instant. His body cut inward under the strike, so close that Zhao Feng’s sleeve snapped across his hair. In that broken heartbeat, Lin Feng hooked the overextended arm, drove his shoulder into Zhao Feng’s chest, and ripped sideways against the committed stance.

Even with the breakthrough, it was still ugly.

But Zhao Feng’s center snapped out of place. His rear foot caught the edge of the platform, found nothing beyond it, and the rest of his balance went with it.

Lin Feng shoved once more with everything the new realm could give him. Zhao Feng fell off the platform.

The impact below punched a hole straight through the plaza’s noise. For one suspended breath, no one spoke. Disciples stared at the boundary line with open disbelief. Even the Enforcement disciple hesitated half a second before raising his hand.

"Winner: Lin Feng!"

The assessment grounds exploded.

" Not Zhao Feng too?!"

Zhao Feng got up slowly from the stone below. There was dust on his robe and a darkness in his eyes that went far past match anger. This was not irritation. This was not simple humiliation. This was hatred reorganized into purpose.

Lin Feng stood at the edge of the platform with his chest heaving, new qi still circulating in rough, powerful loops under his skin. His arms trembled. His ribs burned. But he remained upright.

[Rage Value +360]

[Current Rage Points: 2,022]

[Milestone Progress: 9/10]

[Cultivation: Qi Condensation — Level 3]

Lu Cang shoved through the front row with a face so pale it looked bloodless.

"You broke through. You threw Zhao Feng off the platform. But you know you earned his full wrath now?"

Lin Feng exhaled and rolled his sore neck once.

"I’m aware."

Across the plaza, Zhao Feng’s group stood frozen in fury. Zhou Ming’s expression was sharp enough to cut paper. In the elders’ pavilion, focused scrutiny replaced all previous casual attention. Elder Mo’s face was especially dark, as if the assessment itself had offended him by allowing the result to stand.

An Enforcement disciple updated the bracket board. Names shifted. Lines shortened. Lin Feng’s name advanced into the final stretch of the outer sect assessment no longer as a curiosity, but as one of the central remaining problems on the field.