A Foodie Transmigrated into the Palace Chapter 1085: Martial Contest 1

"Excellent!"

Prince Jin clearly anticipated this very moment.

He mused inwardly: This youngster is truly oblivious.

So youthful and innocent, yet he brags without shame.

The folks from the Great Chu Dynasty sure love to boast!

A cold chuckle escaped his lips.

"Are you certain you wish to challenge a warrior from Western Xia?"

Zhao Junyan felt a touch of surprise.

"What reason is there to hesitate?!"

Prince Jin snorted with disdain.

’This brat is awfully cocky!’

’He’ll soon discover the cost of his big talk!’

"Since the Seventh Prince is so enthusiastic, I won’t spoil your fun!"

"Here’s an idea: I’ll summon a few warriors, and you pick whichever one you want?"

Zhao Junyan offered a subtle smile.

"I’m not familiar with them, so it’s best if King Western Xia selects one for me!"

Should he make the choice himself,

King Western Xia would no doubt accuse him of selecting the feeblest, leaving him without retort.

Thus, letting you decide ensures no excuses if you lose!

This method proves far more straightforward!

Prince Jin narrowed his gaze.

’Clever lad, but he won’t shed tears until disaster strikes.’

Fine then, make the selection.

He pivoted and whispered orders to his trusted aide.

Moments later,

A warrior from Western Xia strode into the arena.

The assembled officials, both civil and military, scrutinized him thoroughly, their wine-induced haze lifting by seventy or eighty percent.

Towering at nine feet, this man bore a rough-hewn face, his look savage and intimidating.

Yet the true shock lay in his bulging muscles.

The arm peeking from under the beast pelt,

Every slab of iron-hard muscle gleamed powerfully, and that was merely what showed.

The massive swells concealed beneath the hide inspired sheer dread.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Several cast sympathetic glances toward Zhao Junyan in secret.

’Seventh Highness, if it’s too much, don’t push it—that arm could crush with a single blow!’

’Seventh Prince, concede gracefully; life matters most!’

’My lord, keep your composure!’

Zhao Junyan caught these signals, a faint smile playing on his lips.

’Do they doubt me this deeply?’

A hulking brute, eh? Imposing appearance, sure?

Still, he felt no fear whatsoever.

Zhao Junyan advanced boldly.

"Prince Jin, is this the warrior you mean...?"

While others might be unaware, he knew full well.

Such a massive figure seemed daunting, but his main edge was raw power alone.

Facing this kind of foe in combat,

Victory hinges on exploiting your advantages against his flaws.

Target a vulnerability and strike without mercy; this muscle fortress will crumble fast.

Zhao Junyan’s face remained impassive.

Prince Jin smirked mockingly.

"What’s wrong? Regretting it already?"

"Seventh Prince, if fear grips you, it’s not too late to back out!"

"Warriors of Western Xia uphold voluntary fights, fairness, and true justice!"

With those words,

His eyes lingered on Zhao Junyan’s slender, slight frame, mockery growing sharper.

Zhao Junyan simply shook his head.

"Sorry to let you down, Prince Jin; I was merely confirming!"

"If you’re set, let’s start!"

Saying so, he shed his outer garment and stepped into the clearing before the dance area, unarmed.

Prince Jin felt slightly frustrated.

Yet witnessing this foolhardy youth’s impending doom, he chose to overlook it.

He signaled the warrior.

"Go on, don’t disgrace Western Xia!"

"But hold back just enough—spare his life!"

Prince Jin tacked on that final reminder to the fighter.

However, the intent clearly targeted the Seventh Prince and Great Chu’s crowd, dripping with venom and scorn.

Zhao Junyan paid it no heed.

His steady gaze met the towering ’muscle wall’ before him, utterly fearless.

The officials behind him sweated profusely on his behalf.

A few even dashed off to alert the Emperor.

After all, a deadly mishap would spell disaster for all in attendance.

...

Just as the bout was set to commence,

Zhao Junyao got word of it.

His face paled abruptly.

"A duel? With Little Seventh?"

Li Shengan double-checked the report.

Zhao Junyao stared pensively through the window.

He rapidly weighed Little Seventh’s skills in his thoughts.

Though Little Seventh hailed from the imperial line, as the Late Emperor’s seventh son,

His mother’s lowly status and untimely passing

Meant he received scant regard in the palace from childhood, facing even bullying.

Despite his utmost efforts to aid, it yielded little.

Back then, their father Emperor pinned grand hopes on him alone, leaving no room for others.

The palace’s intrigues were ruthless, prompting Little Seventh to seek drills at the Ministry of War.

He rarely came back, instead dwelling and honing skills alongside the Ministry of War troops.

Training in martial arts alongside the generals, honing skills through endless trials and hardships.

Later on.

Following the father Emperor's death, he claimed the throne.

The realm settled down, and conditions within the palace grew better.

Little Seventh slowly came to accept residing in the palace.

Yet on ordinary days with no other duties, he preferred lingering at the Ministry of War's training grounds.

Zhao Junyao mulled over the situation.

'The Ministry of War in the Capital stands as the prime hub for Great Chu Dynasty's military generals!'

'Military prodigies abound there, and with Little Seventh maturing amid the Ministry of War, his prowess in combat is unquestionable!'

'Those Western Xia fighters? Mere hulks lacking true agility...'

He smirked inwardly, then flicked his hand dismissively.

"You may go!"

"Watch them closely! Report back immediately on any developments!"

Li Shengan felt endless worry but dared not utter another word, retreating in silence.

…

Meanwhile.

Zhao Junyan and the Western Xia warrior had taken their places.

Tension hung thick in the air, poised to ignite instantly.

The onlookers below held their breaths, too anxious to exhale freely.

Zhao Junyan took the initiative once more.

"Warrior, let us begin!"

The warrior peered down arrogantly, eyes sharp like an eagle eyeing helpless prey.

"Please, after you, Seventh Highness!"

Zhao Junyan's lips arched faintly.

"Then I won't hold back!"

Even before his words faded, his figure launched forward like a bow-released arrow.

His actions flashed with speed, surging forth like raging waves, momentum unrivaled, whipping up a howling gale.

The Western Xia warrior refused to yield.

His body bulked up in a flash, solid as stone; he vaulted ahead, palm clenching into a fist, pouncing like a ravenous tiger straight at Zhao Junyan across from him.

All spectators broke into cold sweats for Zhao Junyan; a solid hit from that fist would leave him gravely injured.

Yet Zhao Junyan had no intention of standing idle for doom.

Right as the fist neared impact.

His posture shifted nimbly, footwork ethereal as specters.

Evading the deadly strike, he instantly circled behind the brute, clenched his fingers into a fist, and hammered at the foe's lower back side with blinding quickness.

That flank spot on the back held the thinnest muscle cover, rendering it the weakest point.

Even if his strike lacked the brute's raw power, a solid blow to the flank would inflict serious pain.

As anticipated.

With a stifled groan, the brute stumbled forward two paces, teetering off-balance, almost tumbling down.

"Excellent!"

Cheers exploded from the crowd all around.

Zhao Junyan claimed a clear victory in this opening clash!