Legend of Wyatt-Chapter 1451: Saint Markings!

The crowd stood silently, their robes fluttering, eyes fixed intently on the battlefield.

In the arena, as ripples of air spread and gradually dissipated, calm began to return.

Under the watchful gaze of the spectators, Wyatt Barnes, clad in a violet robe, trembled his arms and took two steps back before steadying himself, his face slightly flushed.

On the other hand, Sail Fenning retracted his greatsword with a tremor, his complexion alternating between pale and green, yet his feet remained firmly planted.

Of course, not many noticed the differences in their expressions.

Most were focused solely on their actions.

"Sail Fenning has the upper hand!"

"Hmph! Facing Sail Fenning’s greatsword without using a Saint artifact—it’s sheer recklessness."

"This exchange makes it clear—my idol Sail Fenning is undoubtedly stronger!"

...

Many outer sect disciples gazed passionately at Sail Fenning, discussing fervently.

These outer sect disciples were blind admirers of Sail Fenning.

"Wait a minute... Wyatt managed to hold his own without using a Saint artifact, while Sail Fenning used one."

"Wyatt is incredibly powerful! To face Sail Fenning’s sword barehanded and come out unscathed?"

"It seems today’s duel might not necessarily end with Wyatt’s downfall after all."

...

Those who spoke such words were neutral disciples of the outer sect, each shocked by Wyatt’s displayed strength.

The outer sect elders and stewards present wore grave expressions.

"Indeed, of great fame comes true capability. Wyatt is extraordinary."

A group of inner sect disciples, who had rushed over to spectate, displayed looks of astonishment as well.

After all, Sail Fenning was a powerhouse listed on the Earth Ranking.

"How is this possible?!"

Quentin Campbell, witnessing this scene, now showed both shock and incredulity; he hadn’t expected Wyatt to block Sail Fenning’s sword barehanded.

Though the sword’s force wasn’t at its peak, it was still augmented by the power of a Saint artifact!

"Tsk tsk... What a true Earth Ranking powerhouse—swallowing one’s pride but refusing to take even one step back."

Wyatt, his face having returned to normal, locked his gaze on Sail Fenning and remarked.

Prompted by Wyatt’s words, the crowd’s attention collectively turned toward Sail Fenning.

"Why is Sail Fenning’s face so pale?"

"Could it be just as Wyatt said, that Sail Fenning bore the brunt of the strike’s power without retreating a step?"

There were plenty of clever observers among the crowd.

"Wow!!"

Facing Wyatt’s public exposé and sensing the growing stares of the crowd, Sail Fenning’s blood surged, causing him to involuntarily spit out a mouthful of thick blood.

As his blood stained the ground, his complexion slowly returned to normal.

Witnessing this, the entire venue fell into silence.

At this moment, how could they not realize that Sail Fenning had been at a disadvantage in the previous exchange?

"Wyatt! Barnes!"

As Sail Fenning stared at Wyatt again, he bit down in fury.

If, initially, his intent to kill Wyatt had stemmed from Quentin’s urging,

then now, his personal desire to eliminate Wyatt had intensified—to erase this person who had humiliated him under the eyes of the public.

The crowd soon came to their senses, their gaze toward Wyatt shifting dramatically.

"Sail Fenning’s sword was rushed, yes, but it was enhanced by a Saint artifact... Even without the artifact, his full power wouldn’t likely be much different."

Pierce Reid gazed at Wyatt with a complicated expression, murmuring.

In other words, if neither used a Saint artifact and fought at full strength... Sail Fenning wouldn’t be Wyatt’s match!

Not only Pierce saw this; many outer sect elders, including Holden Yellow, discerned it too. Especially Holden, whose expression turned slightly sour.

He had believed that Sail Fenning defeating Wyatt today was a foregone conclusion.

Yet, as events developed to this point, he realized that certainty didn’t exist.

Holden’s thirty-six thousand merit points might end up wasted!

Meanwhile, other outer sect elders breathed relieved sighs, silently grateful for not betting yesterday.

Otherwise, they’d now be in a state of anxiety.

With this realization, they all turned to Holden. Seeing his grim face, they couldn’t help but revel in schadenfreude.

"Holden Elder, if Wyatt wins today, your thirty-six thousand merit points will be gone... Tsk tsk, thirty-six thousand merit points—is that nearly your entire fortune?"

One outer sect elder teased Holden, chuckling.

"Thirty-six thousand merit points... Even for you, Holden Elder, gathering such a sum must have taken over a decade, right?"

Another elder chimed in provocatively.

"Enough of your stones in the well! The result isn’t decided yet."

Holden sneered. "Do you truly believe Sail Fenning, a renowned Transcending Mortal Realm powerhouse on the Earth Ranking, doesn’t have hidden techniques?"

The other sect elders naturally knew this. Their mocking Holden was solely for his arrogance yesterday.

"If that’s the case, Wyatt’s warning yesterday against betting was genuinely considerate of us."

One elder pondered and slowly came to this realization.

"Indeed, Wyatt is oddly admirable for that."

Other elders now found Wyatt considerably more likable than before.

"Holden Elder, did you manage to offend Wyatt?"

One outer sect elder glanced at Holden with a puzzled expression.

"If I recall correctly, none of you used spirit techniques to probe Wyatt yesterday, did you?"

Pierce Reid finally spoke, asking a pointed question.

"Wyatt is less than forty years old, already achieving Small Perfection in the Transcending Mortal Realm... Isn’t that evident enough? What’s the point in probing with spirit techniques?"

"Exactly! Additionally, using spirit techniques without necessity can be impolite... While he may not match us now, with his talent, he’ll surely grow into a figure we all admire someday. Unless absolutely required, I wouldn’t offend him lightly."

"Exactly."

...

The elders unanimously agreed they hadn’t employed spirit techniques on Wyatt.

"No wonder when Wyatt glanced at me yesterday, his eyes carried wariness and hostility... Turns out it’s because I probed him with spirit techniques a month ago."

Pierce Reid chuckled wryly.

"Wyatt Barnes!"

Listening to Pierce and the others, Holden clenched his teeth, finally piecing things together. If he couldn’t deduce this now, then he truly hadn’t lived such long years wisely.

The truth was plain: Wyatt hadn’t warned him out of goodwill.

No, Wyatt had conned him!

And among all the outer sect elders, he alone had been the target!

"You’ll only cheat me once you beat Sail Fenning first."

Holden looked grim; should Wyatt actually triumph, his confidence would turn into bitter regret.

Thirty-six thousand merit points—a loss would severely wound him.

Now, Holden wished for Sail Fenning’s victory more than anyone else.

"It appears Wyatt indeed has the ability to match Sail Fenning... No wonder he set up such a wager! I thought before that he was just distributing wealth as parting generosity, knowing today was his end."

"Wyatt is way too cunning! I placed three thousand merit points on Sail Fenning—if he loses, those points are gone."

"Why did I get so greedy? For the chance of earning less than a hundred merit points, I wagered over two thousand..."

...

A group of outer sect disciples, who’d bet through Wyatt’s setup, now regretted their decisions bitterly.

Including Vein Weber, many outer sect stewards wore grim faces.

Wyatt’s displayed strength had blindsided them, jeopardizing the safety of their wagers placed on Sail Fenning.

"Damn it! How is Wyatt so powerful?"

Vein Weber’s expression turned ashen. He’d nearly gambled all his merit points on Sail Fenning—if Sail Fenning lost, he’d be left penniless.

With only a few thousand merit points left, he wouldn’t likely get far.

And that hefty sum of merit points, accumulated over nearly two decades, would be gone.

"Wyatt Barnes..."

Mandy Wood looked at Wyatt in the arena with conflicted eyes. He didn’t want Wyatt to die—he wanted to personally kill Wyatt to shatter his obsession with the path of demonic cultivation.

Only by doing so could he free himself from all his bindings and ascend unstoppably!

However, seeing Wyatt’s exhibited strength, a hint of unease and hesitation crept into Mandy’s heart: "Did I truly surpass Wyatt by falling into the Devil Path... Can I defeat him after becoming a Demon Cultivator?"

Since succumbing to the Devil Path and transforming into a Demon Cultivator, Mandy’s mind drifted for the first time toward such doubt.

"Sail Fenning, you can do it!"

"Sail Fenning will win!"

"Sail Fenning, you’re an Earth Ranking powerhouse—invincible in battle!"

...

At some point, myriad outer sect disciples began hollering fervently.

Some outer sect disciples even turned red-eyed, desperately wishing they could transfer their strength to Sail Fenning.

Naturally, they were so fervent due to their wagers placed on Sail Fenning.

"Wyatt, whether due to you being a Sacred Beast or its descendant, causing your body to be abnormally strong... if this is the extent of your abilities, then today you will surely die!"

Amid those cheers, Sail Fenning felt exalted, energy surging through him. Brandishing his greatsword horizontally, he addressed Wyatt coldly.

His words clearly acknowledged Wyatt’s peculiar physical prowess.

"Sometimes, it’s better not to say too much. Otherwise, failure to deliver makes you the one embarrassed."

Wyatt smiled faintly, replying casually.

"I’ll soon teach you a new lesson!"

Sail Fenning sneered, stomping down fiercely. A burst of shockwaves rippled outward, launching him into the air like a soaring roc, charging toward Wyatt.

Soaring Roc Breaking the Heavens!

His greatsword quivered, not only enveloped by True Energy but also infused with a mysterious force, enhancing its aura to an ominous degree.

"Is that Saint Markings?!"

Gasps rippled across the crowd, the exclamations piercing Wyatt’s ears.