Andrew raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “So, you’ve got ties to that Fischer family, too? I might’ve underestimated you.”
Zachary grinned. “I mean, sure, we share the same last name, but bloodlines matter. There’s close, and there’s distant. I’m barely connected to the main Fischer family in Blumedale anymore. My branch of the Fischers is to the Blumedale dynasty what a dirt farmer was to back then
Andrew found this amusing and teased, “So, you’re admitting you’re just a dirt farmer?”
Zachary replied with slight pride, “There’s nothing I’m ashamed to admit about that. I’ve gotten to where I am today through my own efforts and the training you gave us back in the day. It has nothing to do with the Fischer family powerhouse in Blumedale.”
Andrew hummed in acknowledgment and asked, “Mr. Thornton is a top–ranked figure on the Titan List. His combat power is genuinely martial saint level, capable of controlling an entire region. How could some Eastonian masters manage to poison and attack him? Do you know what happened?”
Zachary smiled bitterly and shook his head. “I don’t know! Even though I’ve been accepted under his tutelage, I’m just an outer disciple. To know about what happens around this master, you’d need to be at least an inner disciple to qualify. But I think with his strength, whatever tricks those Eastonian bastards try won’t work!”
Andrew nodded in agreement. When martial arts cultivation reached the martial king level, practitioners could already be considered superhuman, at least beyond the scope of ordinary people.
Some martial kings could already project their internal energy outward to kill invisibly, and martial saints above the martial king level had truly entered the extraordinary realm. They could kill or wound with petals and leaves, cut hair with a breath, catch blades barehanded, and hold off ten thousand enemies single–handedly without breaking a sweat.
That was not all. They could circulate their internal energy independently, holding their breath underwater for half an hour or even a full hour. 1
To put it simply, martial saints were that small group of extraordinary individuals hidden among ordinary people. They might not stand out and could look just like any pedestrian on the street, but the next second, you might see an old man in rough clothing punch through a truck with his bare fist.
Or like Captain Meurica in the movies, tear apart a helicopter with his bare hands. There was an even more creative description that had been popular online: the level five fàn challenge.
Everyone knew if you turned a household fan to speed five, the blades could slice a finger clean off. So the joke was, if a martial saint was willing to put aside his dignity and didn’t care about honor or reputation, he could start a livestream and do nothing but the level–five fan challenge.
Every stream would guarantee more than 100 thousand viewers online, with gifts and donations flowing non- stop, making each session incredibly profitable.
Fan manufacturers would wake up laughing in the middle of the night because they might sell hundreds of thousands of fans daily to that one martial saint. After all, a martial saint could easily destroy a fan in minutes without even trying.
After climbing the long stone steps, Andrew saw a great hall appear before them. The hall was built in a traditional architectural style, using modern techniques to deliberately recreate ancient designs.
This was where Jerome, the top figure of the Southern Martial Union, resided daily.
The great hall was already filled with quite a few people. Most of them, like Zachary, were martial artists who had
come to participate in the inner disciple selection test, while a smaller portion were there to observe the ceremony.
Andrew immediately spotted Scarlett and Calvin.
Scarlett had a cold expression, and the black mole at the corner of her mouth made her look harsh and unapproachable.
Calvin, on the other hand, was wrapped in bandages with gauze around his head, looking sickly and pathetic. Both Andrew and Zachary were surprised, wondering how Calvin had ended up in such a miserable state.
This clearly looked like he had just gotten his head cracked open.
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