54: Do you dare to accept the challenge?

Shen Xiaochuan stood atop the war chariot, his posture straight as a spear. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, his gaze cold and resolute. Alicia was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a few shattered crystal fragments scattered on the ground, shimmering faintly under the sunlight.

He didn't look down at the shards, nor did he speak. He simply sheathed his blade slowly across his back and gripped the edge of the chariot with both hands.

Opposite him, Trump stood atop another hovering war chariot, his expression grim. With a wave of his hand, the thousand-plus gods behind him came to a halt simultaneously. The once-bright barrier gradually dimmed, and the battlefield instantly fell into a heavy silence.

Shen Xiaochuan scanned the enemy ranks. An army of three hundred thousand, over fifteen hundred gods—a formidable lineup, with countless transport vehicles on standby in the rear. Did they truly believe that sheer numbers alone could swallow a nation?

He let out a light chuckle, tinged with mockery. "Is this long siege just to make me surrender? You're dreaming!"

His voice wasn't loud, yet it reached many ears clearly. "Relying on numbers to bully a newcomer—is this all the South Alliance is capable of?"

A wave of commotion rippled through the soldiers ahead.

Trump spoke coldly, "You only have fourteen thousand men. Stop now, and I can guarantee that you and your subordinates can withdraw safely."

"Withdraw?"

Shen Xiaochuan shouted loudly, "This is my city! This is a place my brothers and I fought for with our lives! Where do you expect me to run? Only over my dead body!"

He straightened his back and looked Trump directly in the eye. "If you want to fight, I'm not afraid. But using so many people to pressure me is quite boring. Why don't we try a different way to play?"

The entire field suddenly went quiet.

He said, "Do you dare to have a one-on-one duel? Don't hide in the crowd. If you have the guts, send someone decent out and let me see if the South Alliance has anyone who can actually fight!"

Trump's brow furrowed.

He hadn't expected Shen Xiaochuan to propose such a challenge. His original plan was to suppress the opponent's abilities with the barrier and then force a surrender with the army's advance. Now that the opponent had publicly issued a challenge, refusing it would surely cause morale to crumble.

"You don't dare to come down?"

Shen Xiaochuan sneered, "Then you'll let others die in your place? Call out someone powerful and let me see what else you can do besides relying on numbers!"

These words pierced the hearts of many like needles.

The gods in the rear began to whisper. The gods from South Vietnam, Kimchi Country, and Kangaroo Country all lowered their heads; no one was willing to be the first to step out.

After a moment of silence, Trump finally spoke, "Fine. If you want to fight, I'll accompany you."

He turned his head and barked, "Ruan Ceqiang, step forward!"

A god clad in black and red armor stepped out in response. He held a long spear with a tip burning with ghostly blue flames, a contemptuous smile hanging on his face.

"It's finally my turn."

He leaped into the center of the battlefield, the tip of his spear tapping the ground as fire erupted. "Is Huaxia out of people? Sending a character like this to his death?"

Shen Xiaochuan didn't even look back; he just raised a hand and signaled, "Ling Feng, go!"

Ling Feng stepped out from the ranks, chest out and head high, cupping his fists as he responded, "Here!"

He came before Shen Xiaochuan and performed a solemn salute.

"Go," Shen Xiaochuan said.

Ling Feng nodded, gripped his spear, and stepped onto the battlefield.

A large area cleared between the two. The wind swirled the dust, rolling it beneath their feet.

Ruan Ceqiang laughed, "I heard you're the third-ranked expert under Shen Xiaochuan? Today, I'll cripple you first before killing him!"

Before his voice had even faded, he charged forward. The flames on his spear tip surged, aiming straight for Ling Feng's chest.

Ling Feng didn't retreat but dodged instead, his silver dragon spear sweeping out to strike heavily against the black fire spear, sending sparks flying everywhere.

*Clang—!*

The deafening sound made the eardrums of the front-row soldiers throb with pain.

Ling Feng used the momentum to leap away and land steadily. Ruan Ceqiang's strike missed, and he immediately spun around, sweeping the butt of his spear horizontally.

Ling Feng ducked to avoid it, kicked off the ground with his right foot, and thrust his spear back in a counterattack. Ruan Ceqiang raised his spear to parry, and the two separated once more.

"You have some skill."

Ruan Ceqiang licked his lips. "Unfortunately, you're still trash."

He gripped his long spear with both hands, the flames on the tip turning deep blue. The ground heated up in response, and cracks began to spread.

"Black Fire Spear Art—Heavenly Incineration!"

The raging flames swept out like a storm, charring the earth and destroying trees, incinerating everything in their path.

Ling Feng planted his feet firmly, holding the silver dragon spear across his chest. He took a deep breath as the power within his body erupted.

"Dragon Soul!"

A phantom of a white Dragon emerged behind him. Its head was held high, its body coiled, and the surrounding temperature plummeted. The silver dragon spear glowed with a cold light, and a thin layer of ice condensed on its tip.

The flames collided with the white Dragon, resulting in a thunderous explosion. Heat and cold intertwined, and a thick cloud of white mist burst into the air.

The people in the front rows scrambled backward.

Within the mist, Ling Feng stood motionless. He slowly raised his spear, pointing the tip directly at Ruan Ceqiang.

"Who did you call trash?"

Ruan Ceqiang's pupils constricted slightly.

He hadn't expected this move to be blocked, let alone that a B-rank skill could summon such a vivid Dragon Soul.

"Interesting."

He sneered, "Then I'll let you taste true power!"

He suddenly slammed his spear into the ground, and flames surged through the cracks toward Ling Feng's feet.

Ling Feng took to the air, and the white Dragon soared with him. He flipped in mid-air, thrusting the silver dragon spear downward with lightning speed.

"Cold Hell Heart-Piercer!"

Ruan Ceqiang rapidly pulled back his spear and retreated, building a wall of fire in front of him. The white Dragon dove down, shattering the fire wall with a single claw and pursuing him relentlessly, forcing him back seven steps.

"Impossible!"

He roared, "How can a mere B-rank skill suppress me!"

Ling Feng landed, the tip of his spear touching the ground. The white Dragon coiled around him, the cold air yet to dissipate.

"You're too noisy," he said calmly.

Shen Xiaochuan stood atop the war chariot, his hand on his blade hilt, his eyes never leaving the battlefield.

He saw Ling Feng growing steadier as he fought, his rhythm clear; he also saw Ruan Ceqiang becoming increasingly agitated, his movements losing order.

This battle was about to end.

Trump sat on his chariot, his fingers gripping the armrests so hard his knuckles turned white. He had thought sending out anyone would result in an easy win, but now the situation was completely out of control. Anger burned in his heart, along with a growing sense of panic.

He wanted to order the duel to stop. Once Ruan Ceqiang lost, the entire army's morale would collapse.

Just as he was about to speak, Shen Xiaochuan suddenly looked up at him.

"What?"

Shen Xiaochuan asked loudly, "Want to call it off? Weren't you acting quite tough just now?"

Trump gritted his teeth and remained silent.

Everyone's eyes were focused on him. If he called it off now, it would be an admission of defeat.

He could only remain silent.

The corner of Shen Xiaochuan's mouth curled up.

He knew he had already gained the upper hand.

Ling Feng attacked again. The silver dragon spear drew an arc of light, followed closely by the white Dragon, the cold air freezing the very atmosphere. Ruan Ceqiang retreated step by step, his spear technique becoming erratic.

"You're finished!" Ling Feng whispered, the spear tip aiming straight for the throat.

Ruan Ceqiang barely managed to turn his body, but his shoulder was already slashed. Blood gushed out, freezing instantly.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

Ling Feng withdrew his spear, took a step back, and tapped the ground with the tip.

"You lost."

The entire field fell silent.

In the next instant, a thunderous cheer erupted from the Skydome City side.

"Ling Feng! Ling Feng! Ling Feng!"

Soldiers raised their weapons high, and the Believers beat against the city walls. The long-suppressed emotions were finally released.

Shen Xiaochuan remained atop the war chariot, his expression unchanged and unmoved. He looked at Trump, waiting for the next move.

Trump's face was ashen.

He hadn't just lost this battle; he had lost his Aura.

He slowly stood up, his voice carrying across the battlefield through an amplifier: "This round counts as your win."

Shen Xiaochuan sneered, "This is just the beginning. Who's next?"

He swept his gaze across the enemy ranks, his tone contemptuous. "Is there anyone else who dares to fight? If no one steps up, then don't waste time—just withdraw your troops."

A commotion began within the enemy ranks.

Many lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.

Trump stared at him fixedly, his fists clenched so tightly he nearly crushed his palms.

At that moment, Ling Feng suddenly raised his hand, pointing his spear tip at Ruan Ceqiang.

"You said you wanted to kill my boss just now?" he asked.

Ruan Ceqiang gritted his teeth. "If you have the guts, kill me right now!"

Ling Feng said nothing, slowly raising his spear tip.

The white Dragon rose once more, cold air gathering at the spear tip to form a sharp ice spike.

He took a step forward.