12 Continued Destruction (2)

"Next"

The word sounded so domineering when spoken out aloud under a particular context, and the way it was stated, the decibel level, the evenness of the voice, it all converged to create a much deeper meaning.

Disciples from the seven sect all frowned in unison, this was unacceptable. The banquet, to them, was merely used in order to showcase their prowess and act wantomly, they would absolutely not allow for the table to be turned against them.

An 18 year old cultivator from the profound heart sect hastily stood up, his eyebrows scrunched up and lips pursed in apparent frustration.

"Little brother here, Don't you think your method of deciding the winner of this spar was too harsh?" the youth spoke with a slight edge to his voice.

Azazel, once more, did not answer the question directly, much to the intensifying anger of the senior.

Instead, the white haired boy repeated himself again, his soft voice reaching the most unexplored places of the stadium.

"Next"

That word, it sent the students into a frenzy, each utterance of that word marked them inferior within this banquet, their face was been squashed to oblivion with each passing second.

"Brother Zhao, Handle him already!" a profound heart sect disciple annoyingly spoke at the standing senior, even the elder unconsciously nodded at the outburst, the youth standing in the stadium must be destroyed immediately lest he causes them any more shame.

The senior clenched his jaw, the feeling of being ignored was not a pleasant one, that's for sure, especially if it was from a person who was at least 4 years younger than him.

Driven by the jeers from his sect and his own desire to squash this seemingly perfect individual, zhao che jumped into the stadium in exaggerated splendor.

Upon landing, his sword like eyes stared daggers at the boy in front of him. A similar purple energy surrounded his body to its entirety, revealing his cultivation at the nascent realm 4th level.

Azazel looked at his index finger, his thoughts masked by the cold exterior that was his face. In act of supreme confidence, the white haired boy pointed his finger at the opposition, wiggling it back and forth

"Come"

"Fuccc! Such arrogance for a mere new moon profound practitioner! Teach him his place brother zhao!."

"Agreed. Just because he downed one person does not give him the ethos to run his mouth as he pleases, xia wu is at the bottom of the pack when it comes to the powerful"

Zhao che sneered slightly, his attention focused to the utmost degree. The fight previously gave him some insight as to what type of fighter this boy truly was. Speed seemed to be his forte. By increasing his senses and being aware of his surroundings, he believed that there was no way he would be unable to see the movements of his opponent. And so the third battle of the profound palace banquet officially began.

The energy gathered around zhao che concentrated and gathered on his left hand, his knees bent in the gathering of strength as he flew up with commendable speed.

The minimal potential energy he stored transferred into kinetic energy which factored to a slight increase in his overall velocity. Almost instantly after, he was already directly above his opponent, hands clenched into fist, the energy surrounding his palms followed the trajectory set by the punch he released towards the white haired boy's chest, intending on destroying him completely.

Azazel looked ahead, even after zhao che appeared above him in clear attempt to attack, his eyes were nonetheless glued to the wall in front of him.

It was only after the incoming punch reached 1 meter away from his chest, did he raise a single finger and shielded himself from its stacked up power. The purple energy from the punch, upon making contact with azazel's finger, exploded outwards, enveloping the boy's body within its radius.

The people from the seven sects nodded, this was what is supposed to happen. There was absolutely no way he would get out from that attack unscatched. Zhao che practiced the purple cloud fist, a skill that prioritized the gathering of energy in a specific location of the body for added strength. It will be a joke for one to even think of blocking it with normal means.

After the luminosity from the energy died down, the appearance of the combatants was revealed, and it shocked everyone out of their seats-again-.

Azazel was still standing on the same spot, the same indifferent expression highlighted his effeminate contours. A single finger was stretched outwards, its pointy end stopping the outstretched hand of zhao che who was standing still, eyes wide with shock.

He actually stopped it, with a single finger.. You have got to be shitting me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That same finger used to block the punch glowed with a resplendent light before zhao che was sent flying outwards, his 5 foot 9 frame colliding heavily with the reinforced flooring that made up the stadium.

Silence seemed like the only response to what's occurring at the moment. There was truly no emotion circulating within the subconscious of the gathering here today aside from pure shock.

Zhao che painfully stood up from the crater he created, his body wobbled ever so slightly, clearly he was shaken out of his boots.

His eyes eyes tried to regain their focus only to see the appearance of that beautiful boy slowly walking towards his general location.

"S- Stay away"

With the speed of an evolved kun peng, azazel's hand shot outwards, grabbing the profound heart sect cultivator, lifting his body up by the neck.

"S - stop" zhao che pitiful uttered under the suffocating force coming from the little boy's palm, he failed to understand just why there was so much power contained within that small frame, it was terrifying.

" I give up, Don't do anything rash, I give up. LEt me go, I'm dying!"

Azazel coldly gazed at the prey struggling under his hands, his mouth opened in indifferent utterance.

'Silence"

...

Zhao che stopped struggling, however his bulging veins and red face clearly indicated that it would not be much longer until he dies from the lack of oxygen.

Without further staining his hands, the white haired boy threw his opponent into the guest seats, directly at the location where the profound heart sect disciples were congregating. The senior crashed pitifully into his seat, no one even bothered to catch him, much less give him words of comfort.

The other wordly boy, once more, was the sole combatant in the stadium. All his opponents were defeated in a heartbeat.

Azazel cracked his index finger's knuckles. with a relaxed posture, he spoke once more.

"next"