Chapter 321: All of Them Are Geniuses

“Interesting! Who would’ve thought a newcomer would have such courage? Meanwhile, we veterans seem to have lost the sharp edge we once had when we first entered the Sacred Land.”

—Heavenly Apex Sacred Land, Gongshou Mountain

This place served as a training ground for inner disciples, different from their residential quarters. Scattered with remnants of ancient ruins, it was a perfect spot for high-risk challenges. However, entering this area required a minimum cultivation level of Human Dao Realm.

The speaker was Duo Mingzi, one of the Heavenly Apex Patriarch’s personal disciples and Chen Fei’s senior in name.

Tall and elegant with a refined face and long limbs, Duo Mingzi had stepped into the Human Dao Realm nearly eighteen years ago. Though rarely seen fighting in public, those familiar with him knew just how terrifying his strength truly was—surpassing many elders of the sect.

When talk of the Holy Son position began circulating, someone even created a speculative ranking list—Duo Mingzi ranked among the top three.

Behind him, lying lazily on a stone platform, was another strange figure. A straw hat covered his face, one arm behind his head, a leg casually swinging, completely relaxed.

Strangely enough, although the person was clearly there, no one could sense his presence—a clear sign of someone truly formidable.

Sensing Duo Mingzi’s gaze, the straw hat wearer’s foot suddenly stopped swinging.

“Hey brute, what’s your take on all this?”

The person he addressed was lounging against a pavilion pillar—a thin, red-clad man holding a sword in his arms. Despite being called a “brute,” his build and composure suggested otherwise.

A glint of cold light flickered in his eyes. His shoulders tensed slightly as he straightened up and silently began walking down the mountain path.

“What does that mean?” Duo Mingzi frowned.

The straw hat was lifted, revealing a youthful face—red lips, white teeth, a neat Daoist topknot. He looked like an innocent little Daoist boy.

“What do you think? He’s a brute! What else can he do but act brash?” The Daoist boy shrugged.

“If you all want to fight, go ahead. Just don’t bother me.”

Duo Mingzi shot him a cold look.

“You think highly of Chen Fei?”

“See, that’s what’s annoying about you. Always guessing. Doesn’t that exhaust you?” the boy said while chewing on a piece of foxtail grass.

“By the way, Ming Yuan left the Heavenly Tome Academy.”

Duo Mingzi’s face twitched slightly at the name.

“Hey, since we’ve known each other so long, if you get beaten to death, I’ll collect your corpse,” the Daoist boy added with an impish smile.

“I told you, that was just a misunderstanding!” Duo Mingzi snapped.

“Then go explain it to him, not me. Also—if you’re going to fight, take it somewhere else. You know how grumpy I get when someone wakes me up.”

Duo Mingzi gave the boy one last look before stepping out of the pavilion.

The mountain, named Gongshou for its arched shape like clasped hands, was silent again.

At the foot of the mountain, Ming Yuan stood silently, holding a crescent-shaped shovel.

When he spotted Duo Mingzi, he slowly cupped his fists.

Back in the training plaza, Chen Fei opened his eyes.

The time had come.

He rose to his feet, immediately drawing the attention of the crowd.

“Looks like none of the senior brothers are interested in stepping forward?” he asked with a smile, though his eyes landed directly on a conspicuous figure in red within the crowd.

The red-clad man, the so-called brute, locked eyes with him. Chen Fei didn’t flinch.

Their gaze clashed—neither looking away.

But then, a strange shift occurred.

Those near the brute suddenly turned pale and staggered back, gasping for breath, as if suffocating under an invisible pressure.

They couldn’t even look directly at him.

To Chen Fei, the world suddenly turned blood-red.

He heard screams, saw war and chaos, and a suffocating killing intent condensed around him, almost tangible.

“ROAR!”

Above, a blood-eyed beast snarled fiercely at him, its eyes filled with madness.

Hot, fetid blood splattered across his face. The air was thick with gore and death.

Any ordinary person would’ve collapsed in fear.

But Chen Fei stood firm, eyes glowing with determination.

“Killing intent made manifest? Not bad,” he murmured.

“But this… isn’t how killing intent should feel.”

He raised his hand, fingers forming a sword gesture.

As if slicing through a canvas, the nightmare scene tore open—the illusion vanished.

The war cries, the beast, the blood—all gone. He was back in the training plaza.

“You actually withstood my killing aura,” the brute said, stepping forward.

“No wonder you’re so arrogant.”

With just a single step, he appeared before Chen Fei, eyes now gleaming with curiosity.

“I’m also a direct disciple of the Patriarch. People call me ‘the brute.'”

“So… do you like that nickname?” Chen Fei asked casually.

The brute paused, caught off guard by the question.

No one had asked him that in a long time. The last person who had… was that damn cute-looking Daoist brat.

That brat, once loved by all, now just made him want to punch something.

“I believe you’ve got the strength to fight for the Holy Son position now,” the brute said seriously.

Chen Fei’s expression grew solemn.

This man… was the real deal. He was easily more dangerous than others like Leng Yue. His aura radiated primal power.

“Please.” Chen Fei gestured toward him.

The brute grinned, a faint red glint flashing in his eyes.

“Alright!”

Boom!

A bloody aura burst toward Chen Fei’s head.

Chen Fei didn’t back down. As he threw a punch, he felt his heart jolt.

What monstrous strength!

If not for his body being reforged by the Nine-turn Golden Lotus, he might have been crushed already.

Neither of them used magical artifacts.

Just pure fists.

From the outside, it was impossible to see what was happening—only blurry shadows and the bone-shaking sounds of raw flesh colliding.

“Not bad! This is fun!” the brute laughed loudly.

Everyone who knew him understood—when he laughed like that, it meant one thing:

He was fully engaged.

The fight grew faster, fiercer.

Chen Fei was getting battered. Pain flared across his body, aching all over.

But his eyes only grew brighter.

This was what he’d been craving—real combat.

Only by clashing with stronger opponents could one grow.

Every precise movement of the brute’s body became a lesson to him.

No matter how powerful a technique was, it had to be absorbed and refined by the self.

And if Chen Fei lacked anything… it certainly wasn’t talent.