Wu Shan did not slow.
The moment Chen Yu's body lurched sideways under the impact, Wu Shan was already stepping in, feet grinding against the cracked arena floor. His breathing was rough now, no longer evenly controlled, but his movements remained precise. Each step shortened the distance, cutting off space, forcing engagement.
Chen Yu barely managed to straighten.
His right arm hung slightly lower than before, fingers numb, the shoulder screaming in protest. Blood dripped steadily from his cheek, splashing onto the stone. He planted his feet again, unevenly this time, weight shifting as his injured leg struggled to bear the load.
Wu Shan's fist shot out.
Not heavy.
Fast.
Chen Yu raised his forearm late. The punch slipped past, grazing his ribs. Pain flared sharply, knocking breath from his lungs. Before he could recover, Wu Shan's palm struck downward, slamming into his collarbone.
A dull crack echoed.
Chen Yu staggered back three steps, barely keeping his balance.
"Chen Yu is at the limit!"
"He can't take many more of those!"
Among the outer disciples watching, the difference in cultivation levels was becoming clear. Wu Shan was at the late stage of Body Tempering, his vitality dense and responsive. Chen Yu, by comparison, felt crude—unrefined, unstable, his circulation uneven and inefficient.
Wu Shan knew it too.
"You're still at early Body Tempering," he said sharply, circling. "Your vitality can't support this kind of exchange."
Chen Yu exhaled slowly, chest rising with effort. "Then stop exchanging."
Wu Shan frowned for a split second—
Chen Yu lunged.
It wasn't a technique.
It was a gamble.
He stepped forward awkwardly, shoulder lowered, arms tight to his body. Wu Shan reacted instantly, pivoting to the side, his knee rising to intercept.
The knee slammed into Chen Yu's hip.
Pain detonated.
But Chen Yu didn't retreat.
He wrapped an arm around Wu Shan's waist, clinging desperately, momentum carrying both of them forward. The crowd erupted in surprise as the two collided chest-to-chest.
Wu Shan cursed and tried to pull free, elbow slamming down repeatedly toward Chen Yu's back.
One hit.
Two.
The third elbow glanced off Chen Yu's shoulder instead of his spine as Chen Yu twisted, teeth clenched, body refusing to let go.
They stumbled together, boots skidding across broken stone.
Wu Shan drove his forehead forward, smashing it into Chen Yu's temple.
Stars exploded in Chen Yu's vision.
His grip loosened.
Wu Shan tore free and shoved him hard.
Chen Yu crashed onto his back, air exploding from his lungs. He rolled instinctively as Wu Shan's foot stomped down where his chest had been moments before.
Stone shattered.
Wu Shan followed with a downward punch, vitality flaring as he poured strength into his arm.
Chen Yu raised both forearms.
The impact was brutal.
His arms buckled, slamming into his chest as pain ripped through bone and tendon. His body slid backwards across the arena floor, leaving a streak of blood and dust.
Wu Shan did not pursue it immediately.
He took a step back, chest heaving, shoulders rising and falling. His vitality flickered faintly, no longer smooth. Extended combat was taking its toll.
"You don't know how to fight," Wu Shan said, voice tight. "You're just throwing yourself at me."
Chen Yu coughed, blood spraying onto the stone. He forced himself upright, sitting for a moment before dragging himself back to his feet.
"Maybe," he said hoarsely. "But you're still hitting me."
Wu Shan's jaw clenched.
He moved again.
This time, he lowered his stance and surged forward in a straight line, fists pumping in rapid succession. Short-range strikes hammered toward Chen Yu's torso and head, each blow backed by compressed vitality.
Chen Yu retreated step by step, blocking clumsily.
A punch slammed into his forearm.
Another clipped his jaw.
A third drove into his ribs, sending shockwaves through his body.
He felt something give in his side.
Pain flooded him.
Yet as Wu Shan pressed closer, Chen Yu's movements changed—not faster, not cleaner, but tighter. His elbows stayed closer to his body. His stance widened slightly, weight distributing more evenly.
Wu Shan noticed the shift and adjusted, angling his strikes downward, targeting Chen Yu's legs.
A kick swept in low.
Chen Yu jumped late, the kick clipping his calf and sending him stumbling forward. Wu Shan followed instantly, knee rising toward Chen Yu's back.
Chen Yu twisted mid-fall, shoulder taking the blow instead of his spine. He rolled across the ground, coming up on one knee, gasping for breath.
Wu Shan was already there.
A palm slammed into Chen Yu's chest.
The force sent him flying backwards into a stone pillar at the edge of the arena. The pillar cracked on impact.
Chen Yu slid down it, barely managing to stay upright.
Wu Shan advanced again, slower now, confidence returning.
"You've reached your limit," he said. "Yield."
Chen Yu wiped blood from his eyes, smearing it across his sleeve. His legs trembled violently as he pushed himself away from the pillar.
"No."
Wu Shan's expression hardened.
"Then don't blame me."
He drew in a deep breath, vitality surging once more as he gathered strength into his lower body. The suppression array flared in response.
Wu Shan stomped forward, driving all his weight into a single, crushing straight punch aimed directly at Chen Yu's chest.
Chen Yu did not retreat.
He braced.
Not perfectly.
Not cleanly.
His arms came up late, angle imperfect, stance uneven.
The punch crashed down.
Pain exploded.
Chen Yu's body slammed backwards, boots skidding violently across the stone. He collided with the pillar again, cracks spreading further across its surface.
Wu Shan closed in immediately, fist rising again—
Chen Yu pushed off the pillar.
He stepped forward into the punch.
The blow struck his raised forearm instead of his chest, bone ringing sharply. His arm screamed in protest, but the impact redirected just enough for Chen Yu's shoulder to slam into Wu Shan's sternum.
Wu Shan grunted, staggered half a step back.
Chen Yu followed clumsily, throwing a punch with his good arm.
It wasn't strong.
It wasn't fast.
But it landed.
Wu Shan's head snapped slightly to the side.
The arena erupted.
Wu Shan recovered instantly, twisting away and resetting his stance, but his expression had changed. His breathing was heavier now, vitality thinning at the edges.
Chen Yu stood swaying, bloodied, barely upright.
Both of them moved again at the same time—Wu Shan stepping in, Chen Yu forcing his legs forward—as the distance between them vanished once more and their bodies collided yet again, fists and shoulders crashing together amid shattered stone and flaring runes, the fight driving forward without pause as neither side gave ground.