"You're a decent fighter!"
Pang De leapt onto the arena stage, his eyes gleaming with confidence. "If you can withstand ten moves from me, I'll personally ask my lord to reward you with a promotion!"
The Samsara known as "Iron Bull" frowned at this arrogant declaration, clearly dissatisfied.
Regardless of Pang De's status, Iron Bull responded politely, "Please enlighten me."
Pang De laughed boisterously and beckoned him forward. "Come! Let me see your strength!"
Upon hearing that, Iron Bull took his stance.
"Haah!"
With a sharp yell, Iron Bull charged forward and unleashed a powerful palm strike, aiming straight for Pang De's chest. His technique—Opening the Mountain Palm—was swift and brutal, generating a sharp whistle in the air as it descended.
Even Pang De didn't dare take it lightly.
Though not as skilled in combat as his relative Dun, Pang De was still a first-rate general. His battlefield experience was vast.
Instead of backing off, he advanced.
A slight tilt of his head allowed him to dodge Iron Bull's palm with ease. Then, in a blur, he stepped in and thrust his right hand forward, pressing it firmly against Iron Bull's abdomen.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The force sent Iron Bull stumbling backward. He barely managed to stabilize himself after retreating three or four steps.
The power behind Pang De's strike was evident.
And yet, it was clear he had held back.
Had he aimed to injure, Iron Bull would've been down for good.
"Haha! Not bad, kid. Again!" Pang De grinned, gesturing with his finger.
Not one to admit defeat, Iron Bull rushed forward once more, and the two clashed again.
But it was clear—Iron Bull was outmatched.
Though their strength was comparable, Pang De's superior speed and extensive experience gave him the edge. If he hadn't held back, he could've won within five moves.
Fenric stood silently below the stage, watching with a calm expression.
From what he knew, Pang De was among the top-tier generals of the Three Kingdoms. If this was the level of a first-rate commander, defeating one wouldn't be much of a challenge for him.
Back on the stage, after a few more exchanges, Pang De found an opening and launched Iron Bull into the air, nearly sending him out of bounds.
"I concede!" Iron Bull cried out, sighing.
He understood the gap between himself and Pang De. Their strength was similar, but in every other aspect—technique, speed, instincts—he was far inferior. His defeat was fair.
Pang De looked at the tall Iron Bull with an approving smile. "You're a good one. How about joining my ranks as a general?"
His words revealed his admiration—and his desire to recruit talent.
High above, watching from the tower, the other generals suddenly understood: Pang De hadn't just been looking for a warm-up—he was scouting for talent.
"Well damn, he beat us to it!"
"Pang De you bastard! Snatching up talent like that!"
"Miaocai, you shameless show-off!"
"Ugh! If only I'd moved faster!"
Even Cao Cao smiled faintly at their bickering, but he said nothing, his eyes still fixed on the ring.
Back on stage, Iron Bull blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin. "Thank you for the offer, General!"
He wasn't a fool. He had long noticed Pang De descending from the tower—clearly someone of high status.
Seeing Iron Bull's delight, Pang De smiled as well. "Pang De, Commander of the Lord's Guard. Once this is done, come find me directly."
"Yes, General!" Iron Bull responded, proud despite his defeat.
Although he had lost, he stepped down from the stage with his head held high.
The other Samsaras around him couldn't help but look on enviously.
After all, their shared goal was to gain prestige points—and having a military position made that much easier.
Once Iron Bull stepped down, Pang De turned to the crowd and called out, "Any other heroes willing to challenge me? If you can land a few solid moves, I'll recommend you to the lord—personally!"
During the Three Kingdoms period, most warriors referred to themselves with humble titles like "someone"—much like saying "yours truly" in modern speech.
When Pang De's challenge echoed across the arena, many were intrigued.
But no one stepped forward.
Even someone as strong as Iron Bull hadn't lasted more than a few moves—what chance did the rest have?
"No one?!" Pang De scowled. "Are you all cowards?"
His previous battle had cost him many subordinates—he was eager to replenish his forces.
Finally, someone moved.
A young man, tall but not particularly muscular, stepped onto the stage.
"General, please enlighten me."
"Oh?" Pang De raised an eyebrow, looking the youth over. "Name?"
"Arush," the young man replied.
The crowd stirred.
"Shura?! That's gotta be the boss of the Shura Squad!"
"Arush is just Shura spelled in reverse! It's him! It's really him!"
"Boss Shura finally stepped up! I've been waiting for this moment!"
On stage, Pang De couldn't immediately sense Fenric's strength. He waved casually, "Arush, come."
"Then I'm coming, General. Don't say I didn't warn you," Fenric replied as he began walking forward.
His steps were calm and deliberate, like he was taking a stroll.
At first, Pang De didn't pay much attention. But soon, his expression changed—his eyes sharpened in disbelief.
Every step Fenric took caused the arena floor to crack!
This wasn't some flimsy wooden platform. The arena was built from solid stone.
To crack stone with mere footsteps—how much strength did this youth possess?
Pang De's face grew serious.
He understood immediately: this young man was warning him not to take the battle lightly.
"Good kid!" Pang De barked, eyes gleaming.
Without hesitation, he surged forward and reached out like lightning, his hand aiming straight for Fenric's shoulder.
The crowd gasped.
No one expected Pang De to strike first!
Even the generals in the tower were stunned.
They hadn't noticed the cracks beneath Fenric's feet and couldn't understand why Pang De had suddenly become so cautious.
Even Cao Cao raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Though he hadn't fought recently, no one should think him weak. Cao Cao had risen from nothing—his military prowess wasn't on the level of someone like Lü Bu, but he was far from helpless. He had carved out his domain through blood, wit, and strength.
Even Liu Bei—the so-called "gentle" emperor—was no slouch in combat.