How could he have expected this? The seemingly Aoki Xuan Qi that Mark Brooks displayed at this moment had long since transformed into Radiant Xuan Qi. Although its level was still low and somewhat impure, the power of its pure yang nature was already beginning to show its might.

At the same time, outside the courtyard wall, two people stood on a tree branch, watching the scene unfold.

One of them, a young man dressed in moon-white brocade, was strikingly handsome. He was indeed a good-looking youth, and at this moment, his face was full of shock—he had never expected that Mark Brooks, who had always been regarded as a good-for-nothing, could become so formidable.

Then, his clear gaze shifted, landing on a beautiful figure in red, and a gentle affection arose in his eyes.

This young man was Charles Brooks, son of the Chen family patriarch. He had originally heard that David Foster and others were coming to cause trouble. First, he despised David Foster's master, the Third Elder Samuel Brooks, and wanted to intervene. Second, he didn't want anything to happen to Grace Hamilton.

He hadn't expected that, in his haste, he would arrive a bit late. Because of this, he happened to witness Mark Brooks's display of divine power, fiercely beating the lackeys. So, he temporarily suppressed his urge to act and continued to watch from outside.

……

David Foster had originally intended to retreat, but when he thought that Mark Brooks seemed to have encountered some great fortune, his greed flared up again. He sneered and said, "Kid, don't think that just because you killed a few small fry, you can call yourself a Martial Saint. Opposing the Third Elder is simply courting death."

With a leap, his Iron Sand Palm cast heavy shadows as he struck down from above.

He had to finish this quickly. After fighting for so long, Mark Brooks's Xuan Qi should have been exhausted. Now was the perfect time to strike while he was weak. As for Grace Hamilton, so what if her injuries had just healed? Xuan Qi wasn't something that could be recovered so easily in a short time.

"Good, good, good! You coming to seek death saves me the trouble!" Flames of anger burned in Mark Brooks's eyes as his fierce and domineering strength exploded forth, surging upward, meeting force with force, grand and imposing.

Indeed, the fierce battle just now had nearly depleted his Xuan Qi. But he had secretly squeezed out half a drop of green liquid from the tender sprout and merged it into his body. Not only did his minor wounds heal, but the Radiant Xuan Qi in his Qi Sea was replenished. His spirit, too, was invigorated.

As fist and palm collided, David Foster grunted, his heel slamming into the ground as he staggered back several steps before steadying himself.

This left David Foster utterly shocked. Was this guy a monster? He had calculated over and over, schemed for so long. As a mere mid-stage Spirit Disciple, Mark Brooks's Qi Sea could only hold so much Xuan Qi. After fighting for so long, even if it wasn't completely depleted, there should be barely any left, right?

What was going on? The power he was unleashing was abundant and vigorous, as if he were in peak condition, full of energy. Why? This made no sense...

Having seized the initiative, Mark Brooks's momentum grew even stronger. With a sudden dash, he unleashed the powerful and domineering Vajra Fist, launching a fierce assault on David Foster. His fists were like hammers, his legs like pillars. Every move was a direct clash, brimming with force.

Falling into a disadvantage, David Foster could only defend, growing more alarmed and panicked with each exchange.

At first, he hadn't feared a greenhorn like Mark Brooks. With his own high-level Spirit Disciple cultivation, he held a psychological advantage. Besides, being older and unable to make much progress in cultivation, he had spent most of his time honing his Xuan techniques.

He was certain that his Iron Sand Palm would be enough to suppress this inexperienced brat whose Xuan Qi should have been depleted.

But this young upstart's set of Vajra Fist techniques was executed with remarkable skill, like a true Vajra wielding iron fists and steel legs—so fierce and domineering it was hard to believe.

Most importantly—damn it, he still had Xuan Qi? Wasn't it supposed to be exhausted by now? Even a high-level Spirit Disciple would be out of strength at this point, right? He hadn't seen him take any pills, so how could he still be so vigorous?

Seeing Mark Brooks grow fiercer and fiercer, it seemed he had held back when fighting those lackeys, and now he was unleashing everything on him.

Although David Foster's Iron Sand Palm was also formidable, each move fierce and shadowy, like blades and hammers, every strike packed with explosive force—

Yet, with his high-level Spirit Disciple strength, he was being thoroughly suppressed by Mark Brooks.

Enraged, David Foster unleashed unprecedented power. With a palm shrouded in black shadows, he struck at Mark Brooks's side.

If that blow landed, Mark Brooks would likely be seriously injured.

At that moment, Mark Brooks reacted swiftly, blocking with a backhand. Fist and palm collided with a loud "pa," the force exploding, making his arm go numb as if pricked by thousands of needles. The piercing pain made him grunt.

"Hah—"

Despite the intense pain, Mark Brooks focused his attention to the utmost. With a roll and a shrug of his shoulders, he rose like a commanding Vajra, stomping his foot on the ground with a deep, muffled boom.

The ground within several meters trembled slightly. At the same time, he suddenly thrust his shoulder forward, crashing into his opponent's chest with the force of a pestle striking a bell, the power penetrating through.

David Foster staggered back three or four steps, a sweetness rising in his throat as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

"What a move—Vajra's Might." David Foster's voice was hoarse, his eyes darting about, and he was already thinking of retreat.