When a senior uttered, "Wu Que Jing Xin Shen Zhou," many were stunned.
"What, Wu Que Jing Xin Shen Zhou?"
"It's actually Wu Que's!"
"Heavens! Did you remember those lines from just now? I totally forgot!"
"..."
Many fellow cultivators looked at Old Mo in astonishment.
As he finished reciting, Old Mo suddenly clapped his hands together and shouted,
"Break the spell!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, electricity surged through Old Mo's body.
With two crackling sounds, a ghostly phantom appeared above Old Mo's head.
But it shattered and dissipated in an instant.
The kunai, stuck not far away, also broke at that moment.
Cang Jing, standing in the corner, coughed up blood, clutching her chest.
"It's broken, the illusion is broken!"
Old Mo saw reality again.
The clone's flying darts were all knocked away by Old Mo.
"Your illusion is good! But I have Wu Que Jing Xin Shen Zhou!"
With that, Old Mo charged directly at the woman.
Cang Jing raised an eyebrow at this.
Clutching her kunai, she lunged at Old Mo.
An illusionist adept at illusions facing a close-combat Taoist like Old Mo, the outcome was predictable.
In one exchange, she was kicked off the stage by Old Mo.
With a scream, she fell off the stage, landing face-first.
Many watched, horrified, unable to look.
Old Mo was truly ruthless!
He destroyed the beauty without holding back at all.
Cang Jing fell, glared fiercely at Old Mo, and wiped the dust from her face.
Old Mo looked at her, clasped his fists, and said,
"I acknowledge you! Little Japan, little friend Taoist who lives a good life."
At the same time, the referee announced again:
"Mo Ting, two consecutive victories."
Instantly, the entire venue erupted.
"Beautiful, well done, fellow Daoist!"
"Fellow Daoist is mighty!"
"..."
Old Mo had won this match, but he was greatly depleted.
It was clear that this fight had taken a significant toll.
Because reciting the Jing Xin Shen Zhou was not simple; it required spiritual energy and a struggle against the female Onmyoji.
Old Mo had won, but his energy was greatly consumed.
Therefore, after two consecutive victories, Old Mo was already panting.
Below the stage, another male disciple from Dongying jumped to the woman's side.
He said a lot, with hugs and kisses, likely a couple.
At the same time, he shot a furious glare at Old Mo on the stage...
Afterward, Old Mo accepted another challenge.
It was from two young masters from two different Taoist sects.
One was Huang Jie, from the Huang family, a Southern Taoist noble lineage.
The other was Zhu Yike, a disciple from the Chuma sect who had traveled from the Northeast.
Although their strength was considerable, especially Huang Jie with his fierce ancestral blade technique, they ultimately lost.
The other was a Chuma disciple, seemingly from the Chang family.
His strength was relatively average, but no one underestimated him.
Everyone knew that Chuma disciples' strength didn't come from themselves, but from the Tangxian (spirit guardians) in their houses.
They themselves were representatives of the demon race.
With a call, a horde of demons could descend the mountain.
Some large Tang Camps might even have a dozen or twenty immortal demons.
This kind of arena combat, however, was a test of individual strength.
Therefore, it was difficult for Chuma disciples to leverage their advantages.
Old Mo won two more matches, but by this point, he was exhausted.
Because none of his opponents were weaklings.
Even when Old Mo defeated Wang Qi with a single palm strike, he had used considerable spiritual energy; otherwise, a normal palm strike wouldn't have achieved that effect.
Old Mo had very little spiritual energy left, as everyone could see.
Now, it was a matter of who would step up to pick the spoils.
However, at this moment, a blond young man suddenly leaped from the Western Realm foreign delegation.
"It's the West Realm!"
"The West Realm is making a move!"
"Finally, we can witness the skills of the Western Realm demon hunters."
"..."
As the man stepped onto the stage, he arrogantly declared,
"Hey! Over here!"
Old Mo heard the voice and turned his head.
He saw a tall, thin Western man with blond hair standing opposite him.
However, this man was missing two front teeth.
It was the same fellow whose teeth I knocked out the night before yesterday, Ross from the West Realm.
"My name is Ross, you're no good, scram off!"
Although the man had lost two teeth and spoke with a lisp, he was incredibly arrogant.
Coupled with his fluent but awkward Chinese, it sounded even more jarring.
Old Mo looked at this fellow and said coldly,
"Come on, let me see your West Realm moves!"
Ross didn't waste any more words, drew his silver sword,
chanted an incantation, and roared,
"Hexagram!"
Instantly, a hexagram appeared.
It pressed down on Old Mo.
Many present were seeing Western realm techniques for the first time.
They all exclaimed,
"Is this Western Realm magic?"
"How do they manage to gather and condense energy?"
"..."
Many were enlightened.
Old Mo, holding the long saber he had acquired in the previous two matches, swung it to strike.
"Bang!" A surge of protective energy erupted.
Old Mo was pushed back several meters.
The heavy depletion of spiritual energy prevented Old Mo from unleashing even fifty percent of his true strength.
Western Realm Ross sneered.
Raising his silver sword high, he chanted more Western incantations, finally letting out a low roar:
"Sagittarius!"
In an instant, a Sagittarius phantom appeared behind Ross.
The phantom drew its bow, and with a bang, a beam of energy shot towards Old Mo.
Facing the distinctly different attack methods of the West Realm, many's eyes widened.
They gasped at the novelty.
In our Middle-earth Taoist sects, it was rare for incantations to manifest such patterned phantoms.
Even if they did, they would be Bagua, Jiugong, Yin-Yang, and so on.
But Western Realm magic was different; from the hexagram to the Sagittarius, all were such phantom patterns.
The visual impact was immense, making it more flashy and spectacular.