Accidentally invincible!
Chapter 190 - 0187 Slap~ How Can I Pretend to Be Cool

Chapter 190: Chapter 0187 Slap~ How Can I Pretend to Be Cool

Joyful moments always seem to pass so quickly.

The tale of an affectionate dragon is always so moving.

Yet he had never experienced such things.

Perhaps this is the fundamental difference between man and beast.

The next day!

Gong Mo arrived early, "Daoist Lin, did you sleep well last night?"

"Very well, thank you for your hospitality." Lin Fan couldn’t help but be satisfied. He hadn’t done a single thing, but he had acquired a supreme Body Refining Dharma Gate. The issue was, he was too lazy to cultivate it—slow cultivation was such a tedious and dull affair. He needed to come up with an idea.

"Daoist Lin, you’ve come at just the right time. Today happens to be the day of our sect’s disciple tournament. Why not join me to take a look?" Gong Mo said with a smile.

He had been pondering where to take the guest to look around.

It just so happened to be the competition day for the disciples of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land.

How could he miss the chance to let the guest witness the strength of their disciples in such a setting?

It was precisely to show him.

Let him see the power of the disciples of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land.

Soon enough.

When they arrived, the scene was bustling with people—many disciples were waiting there. For the disciples of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, it was a grand event.

"Daoist Lin, I assume you’ve never seen such a spectacle before," Gong Mo said, basking in the glory of his own Sacred Land.

Indeed, Lin Fan truly hadn’t seen such a scene.

Gong Mo continued, "At the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, we host such grand tournaments once every three months. Firstly, it allows the disciples to assess their own strength; secondly, it shows many disciples the effort others put in; and thirdly, there are rewards—though not overly generous, they’re sufficient as a small encouragement."

"Not bad, this mechanism is definitely commendable." Lin Fan praised. The Ancient Immortal Sacred Land had truly done well in this regard.

Above the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, Ao Wudi lay bored and sprawled out, his lantern-sized dragon eyes blinking playfully at Lin Fan.

Not long after.

An elder stepped onto the arena stage, gently stroking his beard, and declared, "The formal commencement of the trimonthly Sacred Land tournament begins now. The top ten rewards this time are exceedingly generous. I hope all disciples will enthusiastically participate and showcase the grandeur of our Ancient Immortal Sacred Land disciples."

"Of course, remember—this competition among peers is for learning only, and no lives shall be endangered."

"I won’t say more. I see some disciples below already itching for a fight, growing impatient with my lengthy speech. If I say too much, I might seem like a rambling old man wasting your time," the elder joked, eliciting hearty laughter from the cheering crowd below.

At that moment.

Lin Fan looked into the distance, where a group stood out, exuding an extraordinary presence. Compared with the regular disciples down in the crowd, they were distinctly different—more like elites amongst elites.

Handsome men, beautiful women.

Evidently, these must be the Saint Heirs and Saintesses of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land.

They were not here to participate in the duel but merely to spectate.

If they were to compete, which regular disciple could possibly measure up to them? Only other Saint Heirs or Saintesses would be their worthy opponents.

Crossing swords with regular disciples—well, that would simply be bullying.

And extreme bullying at that.

On the stage.

A big man holding a Wolf Fang Club leaped onto the arena. Raising his weapon high, he roared, "This tournament, I aim to make it into the top ten. Anyone who’s unhappy with that can come up and challenge me!"

His aura could not falter.

His provocation was loud and formidable.

Soon enough, a man carrying a long sword ascended the stage, and the duel began.

Before long.

The big man was kicked out of the ring, grumbling as he climbed back up, cursing, "You, relying solely on your speed advantage, what else can you do? Not daring to face me head-on—that’s the behavior of a coward!"

He hadn’t even managed to graze a corner of his opponent’s clothes, being toyed with around the stage the entire time, ultimately ending up exhausted and booted off with a single kick.

Gong Mo commented, "Daoist Lin, this demonstrates the demeanor of our Sacred Land disciples. Even in defeat, their fighting spirit remains undiminished. It’s just unfortunate that this disciple focuses too much on Body Refinement and lacks agility—losing was expected. But if he continues on the path of Body Refinement, his future potential is boundless."

"Indeed, makes sense," Lin Fan found himself mulling things over. Unfortunately, there was no solution to be had. In his eyes, these disciples resembled elite creatures ready to drop treasures.

How he wished the world consisted only of heinous villains, who upon seeing him, would treat him as a mortal enemy to be eradicated, vowing to crush him utterly.

Even if not outright evil, they could at least be jealous of his brilliance, bent on destroying such an exceptional figure.

After all, for anything you do, there must be a reason.

Without reason, the action loses weight, doesn’t it?

Gong Mo said, "Daoist Lin, seeing you so engrossed, perhaps you’re considering stepping onto the stage to compete against our Sacred Land disciples? It’s no trouble; I can arrange it."

"No need for such trouble. Besides, I’m not a Sacred Land disciple—it wouldn’t be right for me to take rewards meant for others." Lin Fan replied.

Silence!

Gong Mo stared at Lin Fan in surprise. Such confidence!

Why is your thinking so different from mine?

If so!

Then you must step in.

Not for anything else, but to give this guest a chance to appreciate the strength of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land disciples.

"Daoist Lin, wait for me for a moment."

Gong Mo headed backstage to discuss things with his fellow elders.

Not long after.

The elder hosting the stage returned.

"All disciples, I want to share some news. We have a daoist friend from the Taiwu Immortal Sect who has come from afar and wishes to spar with our Sacred Land. Therefore, next, let’s invite the guest to the stage."

As soon as his voice dropped.

The elder’s gaze rested on Lin Fan.

He was thinking to himself.

Can he handle it?

Don’t let the Sacred Land disciples beat him into a miserable state—that’d be hard to recover from.

Immediately.

All the disciples eagerly awaited—their curiosity piqued to see what a Taiwu Immortal Sect disciple looked like.

Soon enough, whispers began to spread.

"Looks like this Taiwu Immortal Sect disciple is in for a tough time."

"That’s for sure. Don’t you know our Sacred Land’s strength? Let’s show him the might of our Sacred Land."

"But we mustn’t bully him too much—otherwise, it wouldn’t be very polite. Moderation is key."

As disciples of the Sacred Land, they carried absolute faith in their sect’s strength. A Taiwu disciple arriving here? He was bound to witness the prowess of their Sacred Land.

There were some things outsiders could only admire from a distance.

Gong Mo said, "Daoist Lin, rest assured; this is merely a friendly sparring session, no harm will come to you."

"Elder Gong, this truly isn’t necessary. If an unexpected situation arises, it could be difficult to manage." Lin Fan responded, clearly troubled. Couldn’t the elder see how things currently stood?

Only Saint Heirs or Saintesses could go toe-to-toe with him.

Anyone else facing him would simply be unfair.

Besides, the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land had shown him such kindness; he sincerely didn’t want them to lose face.

Gong Mo said, "It’s fine—it will end well. You’re a guest. These young disciples know their limits; it’s just a friendly sparring match with no trouble at all."

Lin Fan had many things he wanted to say.

But seeing Gong Mo’s demeanor, clearly, there was no way to talk him out of it.

Forget it!

Forget it!

Hopefully, they could bear it.

Besides, he was also curious to see the capabilities of the Sacred Land disciples.

It seemed the Sacred Land was a tad overconfident, which wasn’t a good trend—problems would arise with time.

For their kindness toward him, he decided to do them a small favor.

Lin Fan stepped forward, lightly leaping onto the arena with his toes.

The current disciple on stage had already won three matches in a row—his swordsmanship was extraordinary, and his movement technique was elegant. If nothing unexpected occurred, he would certainly secure a spot in the top ten.

"Fellow daoists, I am Lin Fan from the Taiwu Immortal Sect. Thanks to Elder Gong for the gracious invitation, it is my honor to spar with this fellow disciple. Remember, it’s just a friendly match—no need to break harmony." Lin Fan clasped his fists, setting the tone upfront to ensure no one thought he was there to flaunt himself.

Honestly.

As he stepped onto the arena.

He had already decided.

He was going to flaunt himself today, no matter what—nothing could stop him.

The crowd below began murmuring.

"Looks like he knows he’s about to get thoroughly beaten."

"This Taiwu Immortal Sect disciple appears polite and well-mannered. Mo Hao will surely go easy on him and won’t let the defeat be too humiliating."

"It’s time to show disciples of other sects the power of our Sacred Land."

None of them ever considered the possibility of losing.

Confident in the supremacy of their Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, they believed that Lin Fan would soon experience firsthand their unmatched strength.

Mo Hao said, "You’re a guest, naturally, I won’t hurt you. We’ll simply spar lightly to avoid any tension."

"Please make your move." Lin Fan gestured with one hand behind his back, signaling to the other to start. His opponent was inferior—not just in raw power but also in swordsmanship, which was passable at best.

Mo Hao replied, "Since you’re the guest, I’ll let you start."

The two remained motionless.

In his mind, Mo Hao was already planning his strike—he only needed three moves to defeat Lin Fan with his impeccable swordsmanship.

Fifty years honing a blade—a single strike encompassing majestic beauty and profound simplicity, rendering any dazzling technique meaningless before his sword.

The next remark, however.

Fanned the flames of his anger.

"You can go first. I fear if I strike, you won’t have the chance." Lin Fan had barely finished speaking when he wanted to slap himself. Damn it, hadn’t he resolved not to show off? Why act so outrageously here?

A friendly spar.

Yet now he’d managed to provoke his opponent into a fury.

Sure enough, Mo Hao froze for a moment—clearly taken aback by Lin Fan’s audacity. His original intention to hold back had vanished after hearing those words.

"Fine. How arrogant!"

As soon as his words landed.

Mo Hao’s sword struck forth, brilliance blooming. The crowd felt as though the world lost its colors—they were blinded while their senses dulled, hearing only a faint buzzing noise.

The sword technique Mo Hao used was a minor Divine Skill from the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land.

Sealing Shadowless Sword.

At its peak, it wielded power that could shake Heaven and Earth.

Its dazzling light silenced five senses—before realizing it, one’s head would already be severed.

As Mo Hao unleashed his technique.

Lin Fan clearly detected disturbances in his five senses.

The surroundings seemed cloaked in gray fog, a silent void replacing sound, tactile sensation disappearing completely—as though enveloped in a sealed, mysterious realm.

But... unfortunately.

Bang!

Lin Fan activated his Innate Divine Ability, moving with an immaculate trajectory. With two fingers, he caught the tip of the sword and gently infused it with mana.

Crack!

Mo Hao’s long sword shattered into fragments.

"This..."

Mo Hao stood stunned, wide-eyed as if witnessing a ghost.

"Your sword is gone. Admit defeat," Lin Fan said earnestly. He didn’t want to bully anyone and believed ending it here amicably was better.

Mo Hao remained frozen.

Looking at Lin Fan.

Then at the hilt left in his hands.

Inside, he was screaming.

My sword... how did it break?