Keeping the role

The clash began as their bodies finally met in a furious, explosive burst of energy.

Mo Tian's fist darted toward Lu Tzang's midsection with blinding speed.

It was a strike honed through his young years of battle and training under the sect, designed to break his opponent's stance and create an opening for a finishing blow.

But before the fist could land, Lu Tzang's body twisted.

In an almost casual motion, his hand intercepted Mo Tian's wrist, redirecting the force of the punch away from his body.

The momentum swung past harmlessly, and before Mo Tian could recover, Lu Tzang's free hand shot forward, striking Mo Tian's chest with a palm thrust that sent him staggering back a step.

Mo Tian's eyes narrowed, his excitement rising. "Impressive," he muttered, launching himself forward again.

This time, Mo Tian feinted a high strike but pivoted into a sweeping kick aimed at Lu Tzang's legs.

It was a calculated move, designed to exploit the briefest lapse in balance. But Lu Tzang anticipated it. With a flick of his foot, he hooked his toes under Mo Tian's ankle mid-kick and twisted sharply, nullifying the attack.

Before Mo Tian could react, Lu Tzang spun around, grabbing Mo Tian by the wrist and collar. "What—?!" Mo Tian gasped, his voice cut off as he was hoisted off the ground with astonishing ease.

Lu Tzang's movements were fluid yet devastatingly powerful, a masterful display of judo technique.

He shifted his weight, pivoted on his heel, and slammed Mo Tian into the ground with a thunderous bang!

The impact was catastrophic.

Dust and debris shot up in a cloud around Mo Tian as the earth beneath him cracked and cratered.

His body convulsed as the sheer force reverberated through him.

Pain exploded in his back, sharp and searing, as if his spine had been struck by a sledgehammer. His ribs ached as though they were on the verge of breaking, his chest constricted with the force of the blow.

He coughed violently, *cough* *cough* blood spraying from his lips in crimson streaks as he gasped for air. His arms felt like dead weights, and his legs trembled as he tried to gather the strength to rise.

Mo Tian gritted his teeth, forcing his hands against the ground. "I'm not done yet!" he growled, struggling to push himself up. His arms quivered with the effort, his vision blurred by the pain and blood trickling down his face.

But before he could fully rise, Lu Tzang was on him again.

This time, he grabbed Mo Tian's arm and twisted it behind his back in a brutal lock.

Using the momentum, Lu Tzang lifted Mo Tian off the ground once more, his muscles tensing as he spun with precision and launched Mo Tian headfirst toward the ground.

"Bang!"

The second impact was even more devastating.

Mo Tian's body hit the ground with a sickening crunch, his limbs splaying out in unnatural angles. His chest heaved, his breath rattling with every gasp. His consciousness flickered as his vision dimmed, the world around him spinning into chaos.

Mo Tian could barely see through the haze of pain, but one image burned itself into his mind: Lu Tzang's back as he calmly stepped away.

The confidence that had once radiated from Mo Tian shattered in that moment.

His master's words echoed in his fading thoughts: "Cultivation phase is just a phase. Real strength lies beyond."

As Mo Tian's vision darkened, he couldn't help but feel a deep respect—and fear—for Lu Tzang.

This wasn't just a challenge.

This was a humiliation, a lesson, and a reminder of how far he still had to go.

He will surely remember him, whoever he is and he will not stop until he wins.

…

On the other hand, Lu Tzang dusted his hands off, wiping them on his robe with deliberate care.

A smug grin spread across his face as he surveyed the aftermath of the fight. "Nothing special," he muttered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Defeating a so-called 'main character,' a 'son of heaven,' is no harder than swatting a fly. But not in the future, I'm sure."

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

His gaze shifted to Mo Tian's limp body, splayed awkwardly on the ground.

Mo Tian's arm was bent at an unnatural angle, his legs sprawled out in opposite directions. His head lolled to the side, a thin trickle of blood running down his temple. His chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath a visible struggle.

Lu Tzang's amusement gave way to a moment of silence as he studied the unconscious figure. "This guy," he muttered, shaking his head. "Time to get the antidote."

He knelt beside Mo Tian's body and carefully searched his belongings.

Coins, talismans, and a few odd items spilled out from Mo Tian's robe.

Lu Tzang's fingers hovered over the stash for a moment before he sighed.

"No need to stoop to his level," he said, standing up and leaving the items untouched."Cheating is still cheating, even if the bastard started it."

Adjusting his robe, Lu Tzang shot one last glance at Mo Tian's broken form before walking away, his smug grin returning. "A good fight, but the son of heaven fell short."

He stretched his arms after the fight, letting out a tired sigh. His gaze fell on his trusty crowbar lying a few feet away.

He strode over to it, picked it up, and spun it lazily in his hand. "Well, that was fun," he muttered. "Now to get back to something less ridiculous."

As he turned to leave, something made him pause mid-step.

His eyes narrowed, but his focus wasn't on Mo Tian anymore—it was on the unconscious Shen Rui, Shen Zhi, and Shen Jian, the three members of the Shen Family trio who had ambushed him earlier.

An idea began to brew in his mind.

"If I can't take the protagonist's belongings," Lu Tzang mused aloud, stroking his chin with a devious grin, "why not loot these idiots instead?"

Without hesitation, he walked over to Shen Rui's crumpled body. His hands moved deftly as he rummaged through pockets and pouches.

He pulled out several items: a pouch containing thirty-three coins, a small jade trinket, and a crude map with landmarks scratched onto it.

"Not bad," Lu Tzang remarked, pocketing the coins. "But let's see what the other two morons have."

Moving to Shen Zhi, he found another nine coins, a strange talisman covered in runes, and a vial of what appeared to be poison—likely the same substance that had been used against him earlier. He held up the vial, shaking it lightly.

"Ah, so this is the stuff that nearly killed me. Lovely." He slipped it into his pouch alongside the coins.

Finally, he crouched beside Shen Jian.

Digging through the man's belongings, Lu Tzang uncovered five more coins and a small but exquisitely crafted dagger.

His eyes lingered on the blade.

It was polished to a shine and clearly designed for more than just decoration.

"Fancy," Lu Tzang said, turning the dagger over in his hand. "These three are richer than the protagonist himself. Who knew?"

He stood up and glanced back at the unconscious Mo Tian, lying still in his broken and awkward posture. A realization struck him.

"Of course," he murmured. "Makes sense. The guy's an Asura. He probably burns through resources faster than anyone else. But still…"

His gaze shifted back to the trio. He recalled in the novel, they have strange tool back at Shen family residence to locate their martial weapons.

His eyes flickered with temptation as he considered taking it for himself.

But he hesitated. "Should I?" he asked himself, rubbing the back of his neck. "It could be useful… but then again…"

A slow, mischievous smile spread across his face as he turned his attention once more to Mo Tian. "Why not let the protagonist deal with it instead? After all, I have a crowbar already..."

Lu Tzang chuckled darkly, crouching down beside Mo Tian. He placed the tool carefully into Mo Tian's belongings, a devilish glint in his eye.

"I'm not being mean," he said with mock sincerity. "I'm just… balancing the scales. You're the main character, after all, and they're villains. I'm just making sure everyone's in the right place."

He stood up, brushing off his robe, and shot one last glance at the battlefield.

The Shen Family trio lay sprawled out like discarded puppets, while Mo Tian remained in his awkward, splattered position.

Lu Tzang twirled his crowbar one last time and began walking away, whistling a jaunty tune. He didn't look back, but the faint smirk on his face spoke volumes. "A job well done," he muttered. "Let's see how they all sort this out later."

With that, Lu Tzang disappeared into the distance, leaving the peaceful chaos behind him.