So fast that the air didn’t have time to scream before the fist crushed it into a vacuum.

The surface of the fist tore a faint white vapor from the air, like a branding iron plunging into ice water, or a meteor streaking across the heavens, leaving a brief, scorching trail.

The fist aimed straight for Chen Cheng’s chest—dead center.

At that moment, anyone with eyes could see that Han Chou was holding nothing back. The Nine Pillars of Blood Qi around him surged to their absolute limit, the waves of its sanguine fragrance almost solidifying as they licked and spat like tongues of flame over his fist.

Li Wenrou could no longer bear to watch. She was certain that no Eight-Blood Martial Artist could possibly withstand this punch.

Zhou Wansen was already sneering inwardly. He could already imagine Chen Cheng’s Transforming Force Barrier crumbling like wet paper, followed by Chen Cheng’s body—his flesh, bones, and organs… all crushed into a bloody mist.

Su Bing shut her eyes tightly and turned her face away.

Marsong’s brow was knitted tight, his swarthy face etched with sorrow and regret.

And yet, in that same moment, Gu Qianqian felt no relief. There was a clear look of fear in her eyes.

She was afraid Chen Cheng would crack under the pressure, simply clutching his head and screaming his surrender.

The fact was, forcing Chen Cheng to surrender was the on-the-spot solution Han Chou had devised to resolve his dilemma.

He didn’t want to disappoint Gu Qianqian, but he also didn’t want to actually injure Chen Cheng.

The only way was to go all out and force Chen Cheng to surrender voluntarily before the punch landed.

And now, he had done just that. But to his utter astonishment, Chen Cheng didn’t surrender. He didn’t even dodge or try to block!

The fist closed in on Chen Cheng’s chest in an instant.

The air warped and distorted around the fist. The powerful force cracked the very ground underfoot, the fissures spreading out from the soles of Chen Cheng’s feet. Shattered stones flew into the air, only to be caught in the subsequent shockwave and whipped into a surging, violent vortex.

This was, without a doubt, the most powerful punch Han Chou had ever thrown.

He even felt that if any other ordinary Nine-Blood Martial Artist dared to take this head-on, they would be killed or crippled. And yet, Chen Cheng still hadn’t moved.

This was an outcome Han Chou could never have possibly imagined.

In that instant, even if he wanted to, it was far too late to pull his punch.

“You… Why didn’t you dodge?!”

BOOM—!

The fist struck solid.

A muffled thud, like a colossal warhammer striking a steel city wall—deep, heavy, and echoing endlessly over the Martial Arts Arena. For a moment, it seemed as if the entire Outer Sect Stone Platform trembled from the impact.

The ordinary disciples watching from the sidelines all felt their chests tighten and their eardrums ring.

Han Chou’s fist was pressed firmly against the center of Chen Cheng’s chest, his overwhelmingly powerful Transforming Force pouring out like water from a burst dam.

In an instant, a ring of visible cracks exploded outward, centered on Chen Cheng’s feet.

It was as if a pair of giant, invisible hands were ripping at the ground, or as if something was churning just beneath the surface. The cracks spread wildly in all directions, sending shattered stone flying and dust billowing.

The terrifying force of the blow was self-evident.

But when it entered Chen Cheng’s chest, it was like a raging torrent pouring into an eternal, unmoving black hole. Every last bit of the force entered, yet it failed to stir the slightest ripple.

Chen Cheng.

He remained perfectly still.

His entire body was like a javelin driven deep into the earth—his knees didn’t bend, his back didn’t arch, and not even his shoulders swayed.

What was even more appalling was that there was no shockwave passing through his body, no blast of air to rustle his clothes. Even the fabric on his chest only dented for a moment before returning to normal.

It was as if all the power had been absorbed by his physique, swallowed by a black hole, without the slightest trace leaking out.

“This… How is this possible?!”

Han Chou’s pupils contracted violently.

‘I feel as if the force of my punch has sunk into a bottomless quagmire.’

‘The incomparably fierce power, the instant it touched Chen Cheng’s body, was dissipated, redirected, absorbed, and neutralized layer by layer, ultimately vanishing into nothingness without causing the slightest ripple.’

‘I’ve never experienced anything like it.’

‘It wasn’t like hitting a hard barrier and being repelled, nor was it like hitting a resilient body and being cushioned. It was like punching into the void—I hit him, yet it felt as if I hadn’t.’

‘Strange, terrifying, and utterly beyond comprehension.’

The smoke and dust settled.

Chen Cheng still stood tall in his original spot, his robes neat, not a hair out of place. There was no trace of pain or strain on his face; in fact, he maintained his usual calm, as if that punch had been nothing more than a gentle breeze brushing his cheek.

Han Chou, in contrast, was frozen in his punching stance, his fist still pressed against Chen Cheng’s chest, looking like a stone statue.

His eyes were filled with shock and bewilderment. His lips trembled, but he couldn’t utter a single word.

On the sidelines, there was dead silence.

Everyone held their breath.

Li Wenrou’s jaw dropped, her eyes bulging as if they were about to pop out of her head.

Zhou Wansen’s cheeks burned hotly, as if he had been viciously slapped by an invisible hand.

Gu Qianqian struggled to maintain a calm facade, but the delicate little medicine vial in her hand was instantly crushed to powder.

She clenched her fists so tightly the skin over her knuckles seemed about to split, her nails digging deep into her palms.

Although she tried her best to suppress her emotions, the violent heaving of her chest betrayed her true inner state…

Shock, astonishment, doubt, wariness… and even a tiny hint of terror.

Farther away.

Su Bing covered her mouth, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Marsong and the others broke out in a cold sweat.

Those who had placed bets looked as if they’d lost their souls. The pieces of broken silver in their hands slipped and fell to the ground, but not a single person bent down to pick them up.

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