Accidentally invincible!
Chapter 191 - 0188: Let’s Just Forget It

Chapter 191: Chapter 0188: Let’s Just Forget It

Quiet!

The disciples below the stage stared blankly.

The ones who had been shouting "Mo Hao is amazing" suddenly shut their mouths.

They hadn’t expected things to turn out like this.

In the blink of an eye.

What’s going on?

Just moments ago when that sword swung out, wasn’t it quite domineering? Victory was right in sight—how did it turn into this in the blink of an eye?

They had wanted the disciples of Taiwu Immortal Sect to witness how impressive the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land truly was.

But now?

It doesn’t look good.

Gong Mo remained calm, not surprised by this result, though he didn’t expect the loss to be this quick.

At this moment.

Lin Fan glanced at Mo Hao, who was standing frozen as if he’d suffered a major blow. Feeling a bit sorry for him, Lin Fan said, "Fellow Daoist Mo, your swordsmanship is extraordinary, truly a rare sight."

He hoped to comfort the other person somehow, so they wouldn’t be consumed by sadness.

"So you’re saying it’s extraordinary—a rare sight, one that ends in one strike and it’s over?" Mo Hao couldn’t accept this outcome. Losing wasn’t terrifying, but losing without having a chance to resist was horrifying.

And with so many disciples watching.

He’d lost face.

Embarrassing!

Lin Fan felt rather helpless. The other guy wasn’t exactly wrong, but Lin Fan didn’t know how to offer further consolation.

"Elder Gong, the duel ends here. I’ve experienced the incredible skills of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land disciples already; there’s no need to continue." Lin Fan wanted to back out. I mean, isn’t watching others duel from the sidelines a better deal?

It’s fun to watch; you can even laugh at the funny moments—a great pastime.

Why take the stage yourself as an outsider to duel with their people?

If you lose, it doesn’t feel good.

If you win, it becomes embarrassing for the Ancient Sacred Land disciples. How much trouble does that cause you? Why bother?

If Lin Fan hadn’t said those earlier words, things might have been fine.

But now, it’s impossible for the situation to resolve smoothly.

Everyone felt there was something off about Lin Fan’s statement.

"Experienced their skills."

"Incredible talents."

The critical issue is—hey, we lost. Was this meant to comfort us, or is it just slapping our faces?

Backing out? Impossible.

The dignity we lost must be reclaimed.

Gong Mo said, "Lin Daoist, no need for false humility. Indeed, it’s also important for Sacred Land disciples to realize that there are always stronger people out there. Opportunities like this are rare; I ask that Lin Daoist provide us with further guidance."

Lin Fan sighed helplessly.

This is plainly asking for the Sacred Land disciples to get beaten up.

What kind of thinking is this?

The disciples below the stage suppressed their anger.

"Let me test him." Suddenly, a figure darted in from a distance, moving at an astonishing speed, leaving long, trailing shadows behind.

Clearly, not an ordinary individual.

"Brother Jin is stepping up."

"It seems this fight will settle it. Brother Jin’s cultivation has already reached the Golden Core Realm, and his is a three-colored Core. His mana is deep—didn’t he also gain from eating that rare fruit? He’s practically invincible among peers in the same realm."

"Whew! Brother Jin is going to win back honor for our Sacred Land."

"Exactly. This is the Sacred Land—if we get continuously suppressed by disciples from other sects, that’s beyond humiliating."

The man who stepped forward clearly held some status within the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land—he’s considered a reserve Saint Heir, just one step away from the Nascent Soul Realm to fully inherit the title of Saint Heir.

Though he’s currently just at the Golden Core Realm.

His mana is profound. Even if he faced a Saint Heir, he’d still hold his ground.

"Lin Daoist, I am Jin Miaoren from the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, a reserve Saint Heir. I seek your guidance." Jin Miaoren had an elegant appearance and an imposing aura. His slightly puffed sleeves were evidence of his vast mana reserves.

Lin Fan said, "Keep it light; no need to ruin the harmony."

Jin Miaoren recognized that his opponent wasn’t weak; his cultivation was exceptional, so he didn’t underestimate his rival.

At the moment, he wasn’t fighting for himself but for the dignity of the Sacred Land.

If he lost.

It would be unbearable to live down.

"Brother Jin, give it all you’ve got!"

"Brother Jin, the honor of the Sacred Land relies on you!"

The disciples cheered fervently.

After Mo Hao’s fight, they’d already realized that ordinary disciples weren’t strong enough to challenge Lin Fan.

Encouraged by the supportive cries of his fellow disciples,

Jin Miaoren felt a surge of energy envelop him; his mana erupted uncontrollably.

In an instant.

Jin Miaoren formed his fingers into a claw and lunged at Lin Fan. His dense mana rippled through the air, summoning an illusory Fire Phoenix from the heavens, its flame-clad talons intent on tearing Lin Fan to shreds.

"A Fire Phoenix? This Immortal Technique is quite impressive." Lin Fan smiled inconspicuously.

In a split second, nine golden dragons roared forth, curling around his figure. With the Nine Dragons Invincible Emperor Fist fully unleashed at its supreme level, the display was extraordinary, worthy of awe.

"This brat’s got skills. That Nine Dragons Invincible Emperor Fist seems to be handed down by, uh, what’s his name?" Ao Wudi squinted as he spectated the duel below, muttering to himself.

The Phoenix’s cry reverberated.

The nine dragons collided and coiled in a thunderous clash.

Boom!

The earth-shattering explosion roared across the heavens.

"How is this possible?"

Jin Miaoren felt a terrifying force surging through him, forcing him to stagger back. Each step he took left behind tremors of immense power. Finally, he teetered on the edge of the stage, just barely stabilizing himself.

One move settled the outcome.

The victor and loser were already clear.

"Brother Jin, as agreed, we’ll leave it here. The duel outcome is decided." Lin Fan cupped his hands in greeting. He hadn’t used much mana—if he had thrown in his full strength, this punch would’ve sent Jin Miaoren flying, coughing up blood.

Silence reigned over the audience.

Jin Miaoren stared at the expressions of his fellow disciples. His heart burned with frustration, "It’s not over yet! I’m still on the stage, and from now on, I will show no restraint!"

His dignity was wrecked.

He had imagined making a grand entrance, suppressing Lin Fan, and reclaiming honor for the Sacred Land. But the reality now was nowhere near the idea he’d envisioned.

He harbored a Fire Spirit Root and had been honing fire-type Immortal Techniques and Divine Skills.

Right now.

Jin Miaoren’s Golden Core spun rapidly, mana surging outward as he shaped hand seals, summoning an overwhelming Divine Power Secret Technique.

The surroundings grew oppressively hot.

Like being inside a blazing furnace.

"Phoenix Treasure Seal."

Jin Miaoren roared furiously, his body shrouded by Immortal rings that morphed into the phantom of a Fire Phoenix. It hurled itself at Lin Fan with a power several times greater than before.

This was a Secret Technique.

But honestly, judging by feel, the guy hadn’t mastered the technique fully yet.

So.

Spending time to cultivate Divine Skills feels rather unnecessary, doesn’t it? Not to mention time-consuming—plus, kind of bothersome.

Jin Miaoren had staked everything on this. Apart from not using Magical Treasures, this was his strongest move, embodying his century-long cultivation results.

It also reflected his understanding of the Phoenix Treasure Seal.

The disciples nearby retreated far away, sensing the temperature was alarmingly intense. Getting too close might evaporate them entirely.

Brother Jin... terrifying indeed.

Mana reaching the heavens, unmatched aura.

Saint Heir status seemed practically guaranteed.

As to that disciple from Taiwu Immortal Sect, better to surrender quickly.

"Why bother?"

Lin Fan sighed deeply. His original intention was to quietly mingle in the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land, chat leisurely with the old dragon, and snag some treasures. But alas, the Sacred Land disciples seemed intent on handing him opportunities to show off.

Your kindness is overwhelming.

I truly loathe hurting your feelings.

But at this point, it seems there’s no turning back—I can only grit my teeth and march forward.

And just then.

The passionate site of battle suddenly fell silent.

Space, time—everything seemed to stand still.

At an unnoticeable moment,

Lin Fan appeared directly before Jin Miaoren. The flames enveloping Jin scattered to either side, while Lin’s arm gently rested on his opponent’s shoulder.

Jin Miaoren stood dumbfounded, his pupils dilating, perhaps still unable to fathom what had just happened.

"Let’s leave it here—it’s over. Your mana is vast, your Divine Skills are nicely practiced, but you’re not quite my match."

Lin Fan crushed him in terms of mana.

Additionally, Jin’s mastery of his Divine Skill wasn’t comprehensive, merely reaching a minor success stage.

At most, what he unleashed was barely one percent of its potential power.

If Jin truly perfected this skill,

it would take some effort to handle.

Bam!

The flames around Jin Miaoren retreated back into his body.

Nearby disciples exchanged uncertain glances.

Could this be it?

Could the loss have been so quick?

Jin Miaoren turned to look at his fellow disciples.

Feeling somewhat embarrassed standing there.

In the distance.

Among a group of Saint Heirs and Saintesses.

"This Taiwu Immortal Sect disciple is truly formidable—his mana is incredibly deep. Brother Jin lost in a single strike without dishonor." One Saint Heir sipped tea, calmly remarking.

"However, this is the Sacred Land. If he keeps winning against us and nobody steps up, it does tarnish our reputation. We must reclaim face ourselves."

"The only ones equipped to challenge him effectively are us Saint Heirs and Saintesses."

This Saint Heir was perceptive, breaking things down logically.

Another Saint Heir said, "If we step in, the duel becomes improper. Beating him here would reflect poorly on us as disciples of the Ancient Immortal Sacred Land."

A third Saint, wearing a black robe, smiled and said, "Let me take the next round. Since I’ve only been a Saint Heir for a few years, it’s about time to establish my prestige before the fellow younger disciples. I trust all you senior brothers wouldn’t mind giving me this opportunity to shine."

"Fine—you can handle it. But remember, don’t go too far. He’s Elder Gong’s guest, a disciple of the Taiwu Immortal Sect, after all, so avoid using overly vicious Divine Skills. Use restraint where possible." A Saint Heir reminded him.

The black-robed Saint Heir replied, "Rest assured, I understand. Although that guy’s mana is deep, it’s still inferior to mine. I’m confident I can win against him within the time it takes to finish a cup of tea—all I intend to do is give him some minor injuries."

Back at the stage.

Jin Miaoren bowed his head and left.

Lin Fan offered comforting words, saying, "Your skills are remarkable; your mana is exceptionally rich—truly impressive. If I hadn’t reacted quickly, I might not have stood a chance."

For reasons unknown, the more Jin heard these words of consolation, the worse he felt.

"Elder Gong, how about wrapping things up here? The duels have given me great insight—Sacred Land disciples are indeed remarkable. Much respect!" Lin Fan’s humility was impeccable.

Yet somehow, it all felt like...

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Face-slaps hurt bad.

Gong Mo laughed lightly. "No problem. Lin Daoist’s abilities are well-known to me—how about one more round?"

He had a firm grasp over Lin Fan’s capabilities.

Encouraging Sacred Land disciples to challenge Lin wasn’t truly about defeating him;

it was about helping these disciples understand the broader world and their own limitations.

After all, the reputation of the Sacred Land was too high.

Many disciples had inflated egos—on the verge of bursting.

The next duel, though,

would be key.

A Saint Heir facing Lin Fan would ensure the duel’s fairness without embarrassing Lin too much.

Defeat by a Saint Heir isn’t disgraceful.

Lin Fan blinked.

More fights...

Could we not?

Seriously, pounding people like this—it weighs on my conscience.