Chapter Twelve: The Dragon's Whip

"Begin."

The middle-aged referee swung his arm down forcefully, signaling the official start of the match.

The entire arena fell silent; every eye was fixed on the ring.

Most of the students from Ninth High were visibly tense. Having witnessed Bai Xiang’s brutality before, they now worried that Gao Wu might be swiftly overwhelmed, perhaps even seriously injured.

Gao Wu had always been a substitute on the martial arts team and had never competed publicly. Most of Ninth High’s students only knew him from the viral video of the passionate young fighter circulating online that day. Their earlier shouts of support had been more a surge of emotion than true confidence.

Now, as calm returned, they appraised Gao Wu anew—he was almost a head shorter than Bai Xiang, and the difference in physique was even more striking. It was no exaggeration to say Bai Xiang was the size of two Gao Wus. The murderous aura on Bai Xiang’s face made his presence even more overwhelming.

From every angle, Gao Wu was at a huge disadvantage.

Bai Xiang didn’t even bother raising his fists in a guard; swaggering, he closed in on Gao Wu, deliberately leaving himself open, inviting Gao Wu to attack. With his current physical condition, a couple of punches or kicks wouldn’t faze him. If Gao Wu dared approach, he would seize the opportunity—once he got hold of the boy, he’d toss him hard enough to shake his guts loose.

Gao Wu immediately saw through Bai Xiang’s plan. Cautiously, he took small steps backward, maintaining a relatively safe distance.

The ring was a ten-meter diameter circle, so Gao Wu had to keep adjusting his retreat to avoid getting cornered against the ropes and to maximize his space to maneuver.

Seeing Bai Xiang advancing so brazenly, Gao Wu didn’t hesitate to strike first with a low sweep.

Instead of targeting Bai Xiang’s knee, Gao Wu swept from the lower leg upwards with the instep of his foot, using it like a sickle. The opponent’s body was too powerful; a normal low sweep would have little effect. If he put too much force behind it, Bai Xiang could counterattack.

So he let the top of his foot slide up Bai Xiang’s shin, focusing the force on the flesh—causing the skin and muscle to separate painfully. This low sweep technique was designed specifically for dealing with strong and muscular opponents.

Human skin is rich with nerves and highly sensitive. Such a sweep would cause intense pain, effectively disturbing the opponent’s movement and focus.

But Bai Xiang paid it no mind. After receiving the Red Dragon serum, his pain receptors had been dulled by seventy percent; a couple of cuts wouldn’t bother him, let alone a low sweep.

Taking advantage of the moment when Gao Wu’s leg extended, Bai Xiang lunged at him like a tiger. Despite his size, his explosive strength made him surprisingly fast, and with long arms, he could cover a wide range.

But Gao Wu was prepared. Just a twitch of Bai Xiang’s shoulder was enough for him to predict the move.

The mastery of the Nine Forms of the Dragon had not given Gao Wu direct increases in strength or speed, but it had deepened his understanding of martial arts. Even though he wasn’t familiar with Bai Xiang, he could read the opponent’s intentions through subtle movements.

Gao Wu ducked and sidestepped. His movement wasn’t particularly fast, but it was nimble and fluid—almost like a fish darting through water.

Bai Xiang’s outstretched arm missed him by a few centimeters. Having committed so much force to the lunge, Bai Xiang couldn’t adjust in time; he could only watch as Gao Wu slipped away.

This maneuver drew a round of cheers from the crowd. With everyone practicing martial arts these days, even the less skilled could appreciate the skill involved. It looked as though Gao Wu was toying with Bai Xiang.

Bai Xiang, having missed his strike, turned slowly to face Gao Wu, growling, “You jump around like a monkey—it’s laughable.”

Gao Wu remained unruffled. “Getting anxious, are you?” he replied.

Bai Xiang’s eyes grew even redder, a faint steam rising from his scalp—a sign of his blood boiling in fury. The arena had no heating, and the temperature on the ring was near freezing, making the changes in Bai Xiang’s energy visible.

His presence was so intimidating that even Gao Wu was astonished. The man looked like a rampaging bear on two legs—truly fearsome.

It was Gao Wu’s first time entering the high school league ring, and the first time facing such a formidable opponent. He felt some uncertainty; even if Bai Xiang stood still and let him attack, it would be hard to knock him down quickly.

Fortunately, Bai Xiang seemed emotionally unstable and not entirely clear-headed.

Gao Wu pointed at the steam rising from Bai Xiang’s head and teased, “Hey man, looks like the water in your brain’s boiling over!”

Bai Xiang, with blood pounding in his head, only thought of pummeling Gao Wu. He didn’t quite catch the joke but sensed the mockery in Gao Wu’s tone.

With a furious roar, Bai Xiang charged at him. Gao Wu retreated two steps to the center of the ring, then stopped backing away and instead braced himself, twisting his waist and loading his punch.

Against another opponent, Gao Wu might have hesitated to take such a stance, but Bai Xiang was too big for feints or fake-outs. The ring was only so large—he couldn’t dodge forever. Now was the best time to counterattack.

Neither coaches nor teammates expected Gao Wu to take the initiative. Huang Long and the others were visibly startled, and Coach Huang Hai frowned; he doubted such a bold move would do much good.

But Sixth High’s coach was secretly pleased—he had only feared Gao Wu would shamelessly run circles around the ring. If the match dragged on for two rounds, the outcome would be hard to predict.

Bai Xiang was surprised too, but he didn’t care about Gao Wu’s punch. Guarding his chin with one hand, he swung his right fist at Gao Wu’s face.

The two clashed head-on. The fight instantly heated up, and the audience tensed in anticipation.

Having taken the Blood Dragon agent, Gao Wu’s strength had increased in recent days, and with his calm, precise technique, his punch now packed at least eight hundred kilograms of force.

Though Bai Xiang was strong, his hastily raised left hand could only muster half its usual strength, and a static guard couldn’t match the ferocity of a full-powered straight punch.

Gao Wu’s punch pierced through Bai Xiang’s left hand, though it was deflected slightly. Instead of striking Bai Xiang’s chin as intended, the blow landed on the left side of his face.

The punch wasn’t perfectly solid, but it left several deep gashes on Bai Xiang’s cheek and split part of his ear, sending blood spurting out.

Gao Wu landed the first blow and rattled the big man. Quick to react, he dodged as Bai Xiang’s massive fist swept just over his scalp, the force making his fine bangs flutter wildly.

On a giant screen, slow-motion replays highlighted every detail of their exchange, drawing gasps from the crowd.

Though Bai Xiang didn’t feel much pain—thanks to his dulled senses—the punch rattled his vestibular system, throwing off his balance and causing him to stumble.

Seizing the chance, Gao Wu unleashed a flurry of punches to Bai Xiang’s head, treating it like a punching bag.

Two more strikes broke Bai Xiang’s nose and split his brow. The power behind Gao Wu’s blows left Bai Xiang seeing stars.

Realizing something was wrong, Bai Xiang quickly withdrew his arms to shield his face. Gao Wu, seeing he couldn’t break through the guard, knew further punches would be pointless and would only give Bai Xiang time to recover.

As Bai Xiang raised both arms high, leaving his chest and abdomen exposed, Gao Wu twisted his waist and lashed out with a kick. The force traveled from his foot, up his spine, and down his right leg, accumulating at the tip of his foot, which snapped like the tip of a whip.

This technique, derived from the Divine Dragon’s Tail in the Nine Forms of the Dragon, wasn’t strictly a kicking style but rather a way of channeling force through the body in a chain.

With mastery of the Nine Forms, Gao Wu could now execute this move in actual combat.

The whip-like kick sliced through the air with a sharp crack before lashing Bai Xiang’s liver.

In the vast martial arts hall, that sharp sound was clear to every ear.

Both teams’ coaches looked surprised; few intermediate fighters could execute such a kick!

Even with dulled senses, Bai Xiang couldn’t withstand the searing pain in his liver. He doubled over, dropping his guard from his face to protect his side.

Without mercy, Gao Wu immediately lashed out again, aiming a direct kick at Bai Xiang’s carotid artery—a blow that, if it landed, could knock him out cold!

The tension in the crowd soared; many spectators leapt to their feet, eager to see the outcome…