Chapter 247: Senior Brother Wang Yan, You Lost!
Silence blanketed the mountaintop.
All gazes, heavy with mixed emotions, locked onto Lin Fan.
On the tattered stage, Ying Huanhuan had just reached Ying Xiaoxiao's side. The two sisters stood there in a daze, also looking at Lin Fan in stunned silence.
Lin Fan ignored the many stares. He moved calmly to the center of the platform, looked at Wang Yan, and said plainly, "Senior Brother Wang Yan, please give me your guidance."
Wang Yan paused. After a moment, he slowly turned around, his gaze sharp as a blade. An overwhelming, bloodthirsty aura surged from within him once again.
But under that pressure, Lin Fan's expression didn't waver.
He smiled lightly. "Trying to intimidate me with killing intent? Still not enough. Let's get started."
Wang Yan stared at him, then replied in his hoarse voice, "Since you insist, then we fight. But as I said—I won't hold back."
"No need. I don't need you to," Lin Fan responded with a grin.
He looked toward the viewing platform.
The four hall masters—Chen Zhen, Qi Lei, and the others—glanced at one another before turning to Sect Master Ying Xuanzhi.
The man's ocean-deep gaze fixed on Lin Fan. After a moment, he smiled faintly and nodded.
With his approval, the others finally relaxed.
Chen Zhen stepped forward and addressed the crowd with a deep voice:
"This will be the final match of this year's Grand Hall Trials."
"The winner will claim the championship, along with command of Dao Sect's disciples during the Sect Tournament."
"If both of you are ready... then begin!"
The moment he finished speaking, the air turned heavy with tension.
Whoosh!
That tension lasted only a breath.
Suddenly, a terrifying wave of murderous aura exploded across the stage.
Wang Yan vanished like a ghost, his massive black greatsword appearing in his hand. In the blink of an eye, it stabbed straight for Lin Fan's throat like a bolt of black lightning!
But Lin Fan reacted instantly. His eyes narrowed as he stomped the ground and leaped into the air.
A black tree trunk appeared in his hand.
Activating the Primordial Ancestral Symbol, Lin Fan unleashed his full power and swung the tree like a divine hammer.
CLANG!
Sword and tree clashed with deafening force. The shockwave distorted the air itself.
Wang Yan was sent flying, unable to control his body. His greatsword nearly flew from his hand.
His face turned pale. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
GASP!
The crowd erupted in stunned whispers.
No one expected the first clash to go like this!
Ying Huanhuan's eyes lit up with joy.
Wang Yan hit the ground but recovered quickly, launching a fierce counterattack.
His sword whirled like a black storm, a rain of vicious sword light engulfing Lin Fan.
Lin Fan flared his Vermilion Bird Wings, soaring into the sky as flames burned around him. Each beat of the wings scattered the sword aura.
Then his fingers curled. Behind him, space split open—and from within, an ancient figure emerged.
"Great Desolation Heaven-Sealing Palm!"
Without another word, Lin Fan thrust his left palm downward. The phantom did the same.
A massive, ancient palm imprint materialized, crashing down toward Wang Yan like a falling sky.
Even before it landed, cracks split across the platform, spreading hundreds of meters!
Disciples fled in panic, fearing they'd be swept up in the shockwave.
Wang Yan looked up at the oncoming attack and shoved his black greatsword into the ground.
He formed a hand seal, and powerful energy burst from his body.
"Heaven Emperor Scripture—Heaven Emperor Bell!"
Heaven and earth trembled as power gathered, forming a massive ancient bell around him.
BOOM!
Lin Fan's palm smashed into the bell.
DOOOOONG!
A deafening chime rang out. The platform trembled violently as nearby rocks were reduced to dust.
CRACK!
Cracks spread across the surface of the bell—then it shattered into pieces.
PUFF!
Wang Yan spat blood and staggered into view, disheveled and pale.
FLAP!
Lin Fan's Vermilion Bird Wings carried him like a flame through the sky. In an instant, he appeared in front of Wang Yan—and slammed the tree trunk down on his shoulder.
THUD!
A dull thud echoed. Wang Yan flew backward, blood spraying, his chest caving in from the blow.
He struggled to his feet—but Lin Fan was already there again.
"Senior Brother Wang Yan… you lost."
Lin Fan raised the black tree again but didn't strike. Instead, he held it above Wang Yan's head.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The ground beneath them cracked apart. A deep crater formed, dozens of meters across.
Only a small platform remained where Wang Yan stood—surrounded by destruction.
At the same time, a glowing golden dagger appeared at Wang Yan's throat—its tip already piercing his soul-shielding skin, leaving a shallow line of blood.
One inch further—and it would pierce his throat completely.
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