Chapter 712 Stand Up (2/2)

Han Sen, who had been beaten down again, stood up once more. He raised his fist but could never get close enough to the Light Son of God to even touch the cloth of his garment.

Han Sen wasn't being reckless, but the Light Son of God was too fast and he simply could not follow. If he hadn't been able to sustain the attacks, then his inability to defeat the spirit would have been assured.

Han Sen needed to get a grip on the Light Son of God's attack pattern. If he could just touch him, he might have what it took to beat him.

Heavenly Go's formation allowed for the prediction of an enemy's attack pattern. He could react before they started attacking, and this even allowed him to dodge bullets. When the opponent started firing, it would be too late, of course; you would have to dodge just as the gun was raised.

Dongxuan Sutra could do this, too, but perhaps even more effectively.

The Light Son of God was too fast, though, and Han Sen could not even see when he chose to raise his finger-guns. Therefore, Han Sen had to analyze the Light Son of God's attack pattern.

If this was anybody else, doing so would have been impossible. But Han Sen had the dongxuan aura. He had been using it this entire time to observe his enemy's energy flow.

The energy moved before the body did, and the energy inside the Light Son of God could not lie. Han Sen had to better learn his energy flow so he could predict the spirit's movements and evade before he unleashed an attack.

”I'm almost there; I just need a little more time.” Now, the Light Son of God's energy flow was starting to appear more clearly to Han Sen. Soon, he would be able to predict his every movement.

But the humans who were watching could only see him getting beaten down repeatedly, with seemingly no advancement. People felt their hearts slowly break, as they watched the blood paint his armor.

Pang!

Han Sen was hit by the white beams once more. He crashed onto the ground head first, his helmet carving into the arena floor as he slid another few meters. His head had formed a trench in the ground, which shocked the people watching.

This hit to Han Sen was the same as before. It wasn't deadly, but his neck was already injured and he struggled to stand up immediately. He rolled his neck a few times first to ease the pain.

But this movement, to the people who were watching, strained their suspended hopes.

All they could see was Han Sen being beaten down another time, now unable to lift himself up. They thought his neck had been broken, despite his urge to continue the fight. They thought he was dying. It was as if it was only his will that kept him coming back for more.

Even those who did not like Dollar were tense.

”Dollar, stand up!” No one knew who started it, but every human present began chanting those words.

It did not matter whether it was in pity, or whether or not Dollar could even hear it, but they wanted to shout this out in his honor. They didn't want to believe he was dead; they wanted to see him stand up. And for as long as he stood up, they knew there was a chance of victory.

Han Sen could not hear what they were saying, and he only bent his neck to make himself feel a bit better. But after that, he chose to stand up. Of course, the others thought they had given him the encouragement needed to defy a looming death and get back into the fray. With grand excitement, they now started to feel emotional. The bodies of a few vibrated in the release of tension.

Even Queen, who hated Dollar to her core, now felt enthusiastic. She clenched her fists and although she did not say it out with the rest, chanted in her heart, and hoped for a happy ending.

”Doooooooooollar!” Fang Mingquan was watching the match, as well. Usually, he could talk a lot when commentating a fight, but he could not do that on this day. All he could think to say right now was to call Dollar's name.

The Light Son of God was powerful like an ancient deity, but his eyes suddenly revealed a glint of panic—he noticed Han Sen's body was recovering once more.

Even scarier was the fact that he couldn't strike the same wound twice.