Chapter 119 - Mo Wen is Going to Lose Please Subscribe

Bian Shasha was sent out of the Martial Arts Plaza, and her enthusiasts, who were previously so smug, because the boss was bound to win.

Ding Ling was a person they knew who was so poor she hardly had any Magical Treasures.

The boss had a rich background they were aware of, and defeating Ding Ling seemed like an easy task.

What grew more and more infuriating was that the boss had actually lost to a commoner.

When Ding Ling stepped down from the Martial Platform, she felt many eyes staring at her, filled with hatred.

She glanced over and saw that it was Bian Shasha’s flunkies, and nonchalantly made her way to Lai Jianlin’s side.

After the first set of matches had ended, Mo Wen had already ascended the third Martial Platform, competing against a male Disciple.

The man looked a bit younger than Mo Wen, tall and thin, with dark eyebrows, big eyes, and fair skin, possessing the same Foundation Establishment Initial Stage Cultivation, dressed in the attire of an Immortal Sect Inner Sect Disciple, stepping on a pair of Magical Treasure boots.

The two men took to the stage and just cupped their fists in greeting, without a word of nonsense, and launched into attack and defense.

Mo Wen still wielded his bow, from which the light that sprang forth was like sharp arrows shooting at the opponent.

Yet the opponent used a sword, its waving motion producing light that also attacked Mo Wen—the sword seemed like thousands of swords, each as sharp as the next.

The clashing colorful lights collided, producing a “clang clang” sound, followed by flames, as if the friction between weapons had sparked the fire.

Mo Wen, meanwhile, conjured the Wood Spell Soaring Trees, scattering countless seeds that instantly turned into saplings on the Martial Platform and grew into towering trees so thick that two people couldn’t encircle them.

Branches, leaves, and roots attacked the opponent together, with the thorns on the trees shooting towards the opponent like hidden weapons.

The opponent cast an Ice Spell, creating an ice wall in front to fend off the onslaught, intending to deploy the Ice Spell Flowers Flying in the Sky.

The Martial Platform, cozy like springtime a moment ago, all at once became as cold as winter, with snowflakes falling from the sky to assault both the trees and Mo Wen.

In the midst of the icy chill, the Soaring Trees, no matter how Mo Wen tried, seemed to lose a portion of their power; the leaves, that were once lush and green, turned yellow and brittle under the frost, losing their vibrant sheen.

Mo Wen, seeing that the opponent’s snow and ice counteracted his Wood Spell, could only fire more flames from his bow to melt the snowy onslaught.

But apart from casting snowflakes, the opponent also created numerous Ice Swords, filling the stage with a blizzard of Ice Swords.

This Spell that Mo Wen had just experienced while Ding Ling cast it, he now used many towering trees too thick for two people to encircle, spinning them or colliding them powerfully with the ice wall—in the midst of the ice and snow, the strong trees were almost unaffected, spinning like windmills under Mo Wen’s Spiritual Power, battering the ice wall with a series of “thumps,” poking holes through it.

The opponent, at the broken wall, kept repairing it, not allowing the trees a chance to strike at him.

The two fought to a stalemate, unable to determine the better of the two at the moment.

Mo Wen felt quite emotional at this moment; the days he spent sparring with his junior had improved his Spell considerably, thereby giving him the capacity to contend with the opponent for a while.

Lai Jianlin watched from below the platform; once this match ended, it would be his turn to compete.

He watched every Martial Platform, where Mo Wen’s match seemed to be a draw, but if the opponent had other tricks up his sleeve, Mo Wen would be at a disadvantage—his Cultivation Techniques and Magical Treasures were too simplistic.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been dominated in every sparring session.

“Brother, do you think Elder Brother Mo Wen will win?” While watching, Ding Ling wanted to chat with Lai Jianlin to relieve the tension.

Among the many senior and junior brothers, he was the only man she could talk to.

“It’s hard to say; if the opponent has stronger Magical Treasures, like many Talisman, he might lose…”

Lai Jianlin expressed his thoughts, answering Ding Ling’s question very naturally.

“Oh, Senior Brother Mo Wen…” The rest of Ding Ling’s sentence remained unspoken, implying that Senior Brother Mo Wen was a bit slow-witted.

“Even a stubborn ox will grow stronger one day; falling over many times will naturally lead to experience.”

Lai Jianlin felt that although this martial arts competition was important, if he were to be eliminated, there was no helping it; he could only wait for a chance to win in the next competition.

If one lost in the initial elimination round, they might not qualify for any of the Immortal Sect competitions that followed.

However, if one had acquaintances who were part of all the Immortal Sect competitions, one could still go and watch, just not compete on the stage.

The path of cultivation is a long one; a single fall does not mean one will always fall, there will come a day when you’ll rise again.

That Mo Wen managed to enter the Inner Sect and advance to the Foundation Establishment Stage without resources was no easy feat; it might take him even more time than others.

This was also a helpless move.

Some people never reach the Foundation Establishment Stage in their lifetimes.

Entering the Foundation Establishment Stage just means another chance to advance, it doesn’t signify a longer path tread, it all depends on personal fortune.

The aspiring disciple fighting Mo Wen on the martial platform, after several attacks, realized that his opponent had not many Magical Treasures or talismans.

He began to assault Mo Wen with different Magical Treasures and talismans, and the stage once again erupted with “boom boom” sounds.

Bursts of firelight and thick smoke emerged from the martial platform, as Mo Wen was bombarded with powerful Spirit Talismans from his opponent, and he too hurled Fire Spirit Talismans at the foe.

“Boom boom”

The sounds of explosions continued to ring out; the ice and snow from before had not yet dissipated, and the explosions sent them blasting into the sky.

Once again, there was a scorching and freezing battlefield, and the spectators outside the martial platform weren’t affected, just witnessing the intense battles on every stage, making the competition extremely splendid.

Indeed, Mo Wen’s wealth was not as abundant as that of others, as in just a moment his talismans were gone.

His opponent kept hurling talismans, leaving him to defend using the Wood Spell Trees, in hopes that the spells would hold up.

“Boom boom”

As the talismans from his adversary continued to rain down, the trees were blasted apart, unable to retaliate.

Mo Wen cast a Spiritual Aura Halo, but it still couldn’t withstand his opponent’s talismans.

Battered and covered in soot, his face and clothes blackened and no longer their original colors, though he did not yet look like a beggar.

He had the premonition that he was going to lose.

Unwilling to concede defeat so easily, Mo Wen attacked with a Golden Knife he had used before.

His opponent then conjured an ice barrier, and the Golden Knife froze upon striking the icy wall.

The opponent unleashed an Ice Axe; huge chunks of ice shaped into axe heads chopping down at Mo Wen.

Mo Wen, having witnessed Ding Ling’s match earlier, used the remaining trees like windmills, continuously rotating overhead to prevent the axe heads from striking down.

“Bang bang”

The icy axe heads, sharp as real axes, chopped the spinning wood into segments, as if splitting firewood.

The broken wood remained aloft, still spinning, but now with many gaps, allowing the axe heads to chop down at Mo Wen.