125: Chapter 125 Dragon-Patterned Marshal

The entire space suddenly trembled. Ancient golden patterns slowly lit up one after another on the previously silent Third Floor platform, and a majestic pressure, like a collapsing mountain, crashed down.

At this moment, the gazes of countless people across the entire Ultimate Battlefield converged simultaneously.

Everyone was watching; they wanted to know if this prodigy, the fastest in the entire competition, could truly create a miracle.

...

Before the Third Floor throne.

Three massive figures stood there, their Dragon-Pattern golden armor grinding against each other with a dull roar.

In that instant, the entire Third Floor platform vibrated slightly.

They were completely different from the Imperial Guards of the previous two layers.

The three entities before him were clad in dark golden Dragon-Pattern heavy armor, with lifelike golden dragon reliefs coiled upon the plating, and ancient runes flowing between their pauldrons, bracers, and war boots.

Standing nearly four meters tall, just by being there, they resembled three insurmountable mountains.

The First Layer Imperial Guards were more like well-trained elite soldiers.

The Second Layer Imperial Guard Commander possessed the aura of a general guarding a territory.

But the three before him... were Marshals who truly commanded ten thousand troops!

That pressure was on an entirely different level.

Many Contestants felt their breathing grow difficult just by glancing at them from afar.

Someone muttered in a low voice.

"Is this... the Third Floor?"

"This sense of oppression is far more terrifying than the Second Layer."

...

Feng Ling looked at the three Marshals blocking his path forward. With a stomp of his feet, he charged head-on toward the nearest Dragon-Pattern Marshal.

He did not rashly close in, instead raising his hand to unleash dozens of whistling cyan whirlwinds.

[Flowing Wind Vibration Slash]

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

Blades of wind filled the sky, sweeping across the world, all slashing toward that Dragon-Pattern Marshal.

Boom!

The gale exploded, and dust filled the air.

This move was not intended to kill, but merely to knock it back or repel it, clearing a path for him to sprint at full speed.

But when the smoke cleared, Feng Ling's expression slightly tightened.

The Dragon-Pattern Marshal remained motionless. On its dark golden dragon armor, only a few shallow white marks were left; it had suffered almost no substantial damage.

"How can this be?"

Feng Ling frowned. Although his [Flowing Wind Vibration Slash] was not his strongest ultimate move, it was an Epic-grade purple spell skill that would normally be enough to severely injure a target of the same rank.

Yet the damage caused now was pitifully small.

"It's not that its defense is too high..."

"It's that my spell damage has been weakened!"

Thinking this, he immediately unleashed several different wind-type skills in succession. Wind Spear, Wind Blade, Windstorm... The result was the same in every case.

The power of all spells was significantly reduced, and when combined with the Dragon-Pattern Marshal's already astonishing defense, they could only cause negligible damage.

Feng Ling's expression gradually darkened.

"The first rule of the Third Floor..."

"Spell damage is suppressed."

...

Just as he was pondering,

Hum!

The spear-wielding Marshal suddenly threw its weapon, and a golden spear tore through the air toward him.

Feng Ling dodged rapidly, and although he avoided the vital spot, his shoulder was still grazed by the spear tip.

Pfft!

Blood splattered. A gruesome wound was instantly torn into his shoulder.

Feng Ling's expression changed. He immediately took out a high-grade recovery potion from his storage space and downed it in one gulp. But after a few breaths passed, there was no sign of the wound healing at all.

"No recovery?"

His expression shifted slightly, and he immediately activated his own life recovery skill.

The pale green light had just appeared when it vanished completely, as if a stone had been cast into the ocean. His shoulder was still bleeding profusely.

"Recovery... is disabled?"

Feng Ling finally realized something, his pupils suddenly constricting.

"It's not just potions; even recovery skills are useless!"

For the first time, his face turned grim. The Third Floor... was actually a forbidden healing zone!

...

However, even worse things were yet to come. Seeing two Marshals drawing closer, Feng Ling held nothing back, his internal wind-type energy circulating frantically. "Wind King Step!"

This was one of his trump cards, capable of explosively increasing his speed for a short time. But the moment the skill activated, the cyan wind vortex that should have attached to his body flickered for an instant before quietly dissipating.

His speed did not increase in the slightest, and Feng Ling's steps faltered abruptly.

"What is going on?"

He tried to activate it again, but failed once more.

It was as if an invisible force had wiped away all positive buffs. Feng Ling hurriedly dodged the attacks of the two Marshals, tried other speed-boosting abilities, and finally understood completely.

The Third Floor did not allow any buffs to exist at all! Whether from skills, equipment, or items, all enhancement effects were completely disabled!

...

Meanwhile, the spectators below also quickly deduced the rules of the Third Floor Throne No. 1 based on Feng Ling's repeated attempts.

"His spells... the damage has decreased!"

"Recovery potions have no effect either!"

"Even Feng Ling's most famous speed boost failed to activate!"

Someone couldn't help but gasp.

"The rules for the Third Floor Throne No. 1 have been revealed!"

"Spell reduction, forbidden healing, and disabled buffs!"

"This is far more insane than the Second Layer!"

...

Just then, the Dragon-Pattern Marshal that had been standing in the center slowly raised the Dragon-Pattern longbow in its hand. It drew the bowstring; there was no arrow, yet a golden energy signature slowly locked onto Feng Ling.

Feng Ling's pupils constricted. An unprecedented sense of danger rose frantically from the bottom of his heart. Without hesitation, he retreated rapidly. Yet, that energy signature remained firmly locked onto him. It was as if no matter where he moved, he could not escape it.

"Locked on?"

For the first time, Feng Ling's expression changed.

The next second, the Dragon-Pattern Marshal released the bowstring.

Hum—

The world suddenly went quiet, and a golden arrow of light vanished instantly. There was no flight trajectory, no sound of piercing the air; it was as if it had directly traversed space.

Feng Ling's scalp tingled instantly, his body moving sideways almost entirely on instinct.

Pfft-crack!!

The arrow of light grazed his shoulder again, instantly shattering his entire right shoulder and causing a massive spray of blood. Just by grazing him slightly, it had almost crippled his entire arm.

Feng Ling's face turned deathly pale, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back. What made him even more desperate was that the wound on his shoulder could not be healed.

Just in that brief moment of pause, the other two Dragon-Pattern Marshals had moved simultaneously. One held a spear, spanning dozens of meters in a single step, the spear striking like a dragon. The other swung a war blade, a golden blade-light traversing the world.

Three Marshals, attacking in unison! Feng Ling frantically burst forth with speed, dodging time and time again by the narrowest of margins.

But no matter how fast his speed was, he could not completely shake off the lock of the Marshal holding the Longbow Marshal. Every time it drew the bow, it forced him to change his route in advance, constantly compressing his evasion space, and soon he was caught in the pincer attack of the other two Marshals.

Feng Ling gritted his teeth.

"I'll risk it all!"

If he stayed here, it was a dead end!

Thinking this, he no longer hesitated and unleashed his family's secret technique. [Thousand Flows Wind Treading]!

His steps were agile, no longer the rigid execution of a system skill. A storm exploded beneath his feet, and he transformed into a cyan stream of light, frantically dashing toward the edge of the Third Floor.