BAM!
On the beach, the two figures crashed into each other with brutal force. Lu Sheng’s palms carved through the air, striking at Gongsun Zhanglan’s hands like a pair of relentless sabers. Thunderous booms rolled across the valley, echoing again and again.
HUMPH!
Driven back, Gongsun Zhanglan let out a furious snort. Drawing upon eighty percent of his Prime Mystic Palm’s might, he gathered power into one hand and hurled it toward Lu Sheng’s temple, the blow fierce enough to pulp a man’s skull on the spot.
“Ultimate Crimson!” Crimson flooded Lu Sheng’s palms, veins swelling along his arms. A blood-red line streaked up to the space between his brows, forming a sharp, glowing pattern. He met the attack head-on, thrusting his right palm forward despite its trembling.
BOOM!
Another deep concussion ripped through the air. Both men staggered backward, forced more than ten steps apart.
Only a few breaths had passed since Lu Sheng had flown over the water to land on the shore, yet they had already traded more than ten blistering exchanges—neither gaining the slightest advantage.
“Not bad, not bad, not bad! No wonder Hong Mingzi regards you so highly. This old one has underestimated you!” Gongsun Zhanglan raised his right arm, eyeing the tatters of his sleeve. A faint greenish cast edged across his face. The scorching heat still lingering in his palm was unmistakable—he had felt the same during his battle with Hong Mingzi years ago. He would be an utter fool not to realize by now that Hong Mingzi had taught Lu Sheng the Ultimate Crimson Mantra.
Lu Sheng glanced at his own shredded sleeves and grinned.
“Sect Master Gongsun retains his strength despite his age; you even blocked my sneak attack. And here I thought I wouldn’t need my saber.” Slowly, he reached behind his back and drew a long saber from its hidden sheath.
Gongsun Zhanglan’s eyes narrowed to slits. He understood now—there was no way to hold back his trump card any longer. Drawing the Prime Mystic Palm to its absolute peak, he gathered its power until flickering shades of green pulsed across his face, the unmistakable phenomenon that came with the technique’s full release.
“ROAR!”
Amid the echo of a tiger’s cry, Lu Sheng tore off his top garment, muscles tensing as he drew his saber fully from its sheath. A chilling arc of steel flashed outward, the saber’s gleam slicing through the air toward Gongsun Zhanglan.
…………
“That’s incredibly powerful…” On the ship, the man addressed as Grand Uncle stared in awe at the two figures clashing violently on the shore. “With moves like those, they’re undoubtedly famed experts. Even in the Central Plains, they’d stand shoulder to shoulder with some of the greats there.”
The drunken haze had vanished entirely from Bian Su. She watched the duel with rapt attention, shock flickering in the depths of her eyes.
“Grand Uncle, if my father were still alive… do you think he could match either of them?”
Grand Uncle paused, falling silent for a brief moment before shaking his head slowly. “I’m afraid not. Old Master was strong, but still a step below their realm.”
Bian Su said no more, her gaze lowering as a contemplative glint surfaced in her eyes.
By then, many young masters and ladies aboard the ship had noticed the disturbance. One by one, they gathered at the bow, and the moment they caught sight of the fierce battle unfolding on the shore, excited murmurs erupted among them.
“Isn’t that Sect Master Gongsun!?” someone blurted. “The second-in-command of the Crimson Whale Sect—Gongsun Zhanglan?!”
At once, shock rippled through the onlookers. Even those with only a passing knowledge of martial arts could see that the two men were fighting to kill, each strike aimed with lethal intent.
“Who could possibly take on the Deputy Sect Master of the Crimson Whale Sect in a life-and-death battle?!” another exclaimed.
The Crimson Whale Sect’s reputation was unmatched throughout the Northern Lands; anyone with the slightest power or connections had heard of the number-one sect in the region. And now, its Deputy Sect Master was locked in mortal combat before their eyes. Their curiosity burned even hotter.
“So it’s the Crimson… something Sect, huh…” Bian Su’s expression deepened as their chatter reached her ears. “Grand Uncle, about that object… what if I were to—”
Beside her, Grand Uncle’s pupils tightened, though he remained wordlessly still.
SPLASH!
Water burst upward, spraying across the ship’s bow.
As the uproar on the ship carried on, the clash between Lu Sheng and Gongsun Zhanglan reached its peak. Their inner force was nearly equal in depth; now the outcome hinged on technique, battle instinct, and sheer killing will.
In terms of technique, Lu Sheng was at a clear disadvantage. His inner force was immense, but it meant little if he couldn’t land a decisive blow. More often than not, Gongsun Zhanglan struck his flank or slipped past his offense with a deft dodge or a precise parry.
Despite being an Intent Proficiency technique, the Black Tiger Saber Technique remained too straightforward—its strokes clear, its patterns predictable.
It was, after all, only a third-class saber art. In Lu Sheng’s hands it had become fearsome against ordinary experts, but matched against a veteran like Gongsun Zhanglan, its flaws and openings were immediately exposed. Had it not been for Lu Sheng’s hardened body skills—allowing him to disregard defense entirely and pour everything into offense—he would have already fallen.
Stroke after stroke, his long saber carved out the fierce arcs of the Black Tiger style, every angle explored, every variation unleashed. And stroke after stroke, Gongsun Zhanglan turned them aside.
Yet Gongsun Zhanglan was growing frustrated as well. He had committed all his inner force to the Prime Mystic Palm, but every attempt to close in was foiled. Each time he stepped forward to deliver a killing strike, Lu Sheng’s ferocious assault forced him back, leaving him no choice but to parry the relentless saber first.
Lu Sheng fought like a man with nothing to lose—but Gongsun Zhanglan had no desire to die here.
DANG!
A rapid sequence of palm deflections sent the saber blade skidding away from his neck, and Gongsun Zhanglan surged forward.
“Mystic Gate of Life and Death!” His Prime Mystic Palm swept out—a strike that appeared slow and gentle, almost weightless.
But beneath that softness lay a hidden eruption of power, the distilled peak of Gongsun Zhanglan’s mastery. One careless misstep before it, and Prime Mystic Palm’s full might would explode in an instant.
With his saber struck aside yet again, a surge of fury rose in Lu Sheng’s chest. More than ten moves had passed without him landing a single clean hit. Seeing that light, almost careless palm drifting toward him now, he felt a fierce joy—Gongsun Zhanglan was finally meeting him head-on.
The Ultimate Crimson Mantra roared to life, crimson Qi erupting wildly from every meridian and flooding into his palm. At the same time, Lu Sheng drove Heart Shattering Palm to its peak and thrust his hand forward with reckless ferocity.
BOOM!
Their palms collided. For an instant, Lu Sheng felt only emptiness behind Gongsun Zhanglan’s strike—like plunging his force into a ball of cotton. Then, without warning, a violent power burst forth like a volcanic eruption. The sudden surge hammered into his palm with crushing weight, slamming straight into his core.
“Prime Mystic: Extreme Emptiness!!!” Gongsun Zhanglan’s eyes widened, his entire body trembling as decades of cultivated inner force surged forth in one devastating flood. Every ounce of power tore through his arm and blasted toward Lu Sheng’s palm.
“HAHAHAHAHA!!! Let’s see who dies first!!!” Lu Sheng had misread the strike completely—his own force had sunk into nothing, while his opponent’s full might crashed into him like a tidal wave. Even so, he threw his head back and laughed wildly. The Ultimate Crimson Mantra surged to its absolute limit as he pushed back against the invading power.
“Yin Yang Jade Crane! DIE!!!” He roared, releasing his long saber to free his other hand. Yin Yang Jade Crane Skill ignited throughout his body as he slammed a savage palm into Gongsun Zhanglan’s flank.
BOOM!!!
Two devastating strikes landed in rapid succession—one for each man.
Lu Sheng staggered back several steps, a flush of red sweeping across his face. Internal injuries had clearly taken hold.
Gongsun Zhanglan was blasted sideways for more than ten steps. Blood trailed from the corner of his lips, and his right arm hung limp at his side—bone fractured clean through.
“Incredible palm might!” Even while facing his enemy, Gongsun Zhanglan couldn’t help but let out a breath of admiration. He touched his fractured right arm and sighed. “What a pity…”
SWISH!
In that instant, a streak of black light burst from his left sleeve. A dark dart shot toward Lu Sheng, trailing a narrow chain like a venomous tail.
“Soul Locking Spear!” From afar, the old Sect Master cried out in alarm. “He’s still been practicing that evil skill!”
“Concatenate Soul Locking Spear… a top-grade demonic art powered only by human blood! Didn’t Gongsun Zhanglan personally vow to cripple his cultivation of it!?” Elder Wang shouted, voice filled with fury and disbelief.
“Now that Soul Locking Spear has appeared, this battle must end! It’s no longer a fair duel!” Hong Mingzi’s expression darkened as he stepped forward, preparing to leap to the shore.
“Is old Sect Master truly planning to interfere in a death match?” On the shore, facing the bamboo raft, Fang Zhidong stood calmly with his hands behind his back, his gaze steady on Hong Mingzi and the others. “Such an act is unworthy of a senior. Orthodox or unorthodox, only strength decides who survives in this world. Has old Sect Master not understood that by now?”
Fang Zhidong was strikingly charismatic—handsome, with almond-shaped eyes, a neat goatee, and a slender build that made him resemble a refined Confucian scholar more than a martial artist. Yet Hong Mingzi knew better. Fang Zhidong’s Extreme Elementary Ram was terrifyingly powerful. In his youth, Hong Mingzi could have overwhelmed him within twenty moves; now, well past his prime, he would need over a hundred to secure victory.
“Fang Zhidong, are you intent on obstructing me?” Hong Mingzi asked, voice low and grim.
“How could old Sect Master say such a thing? I’m merely here as a witness—to ensure the duel remains fair.” Fang Zhidong smiled faintly, casting a glance back toward the battle.
Under Gongsun Zhanglan’s control, the Soul Locking Spear howled and thrashed through the air, its ferocity surpassing even the crushing force of Prime Mystic Palm.
Lu Sheng ducked and twisted away, forced into a dire struggle. He had never encountered such an unpredictable weapon before, and the Soul Locking Spear’s erratic movements pressed him relentlessly.
Swish!
Retreating, he yanked free the long saber he had stabbed into the ground earlier.
Dang dang dang!
A rapid string of metallic clashes erupted as the Soul Locking Spear slammed against his blade. It moved like a whip forged of dense black steel, each strike carrying tremendous weight.
In a brief moment of carelessness, the weapon lashed across his side, hurling him backward. A long, raw gash tore open along his waist. The spear’s range was simply too vast—Lu Sheng could not close the distance, and every touch of the weapon carried terrifying force.
He glanced at the wound. Even with his hardened body, the cut stretched nearly the length of a palm, blood soaking his robes in an instant.
But only for a heartbeat. The Yin Yang Jade Crane Skill surged through him, knitting flesh together and stopping the bleeding almost immediately.
“Heh.”
A tingling numbness, followed by a creeping itch, spread from the wound. Though Yin Yang Jade Crane suppressed it, Lu Sheng’s expression tightened.
“Not bad… so it’s actually a poison skill.”
Gongsun Zhanglan did not advance. Sweat beaded on his forehead; the last ten frenzied exchanges had drained nearly all his inner force. Even decades of cultivation couldn’t sustain his exertion. He needed precious breaths to rebuild his Qi.
“It’s too late to beg for your life now,” he rasped, a murky breath spilling out. “Anyone struck by my Soul Locking Spear will feel its poison seep through their skin, blocking every meridian and vessel within two hours. Then the poison flows into the heart… and death follows—heart strangled from within.”
“Is that so?” Lu Sheng lifted his saber and strode toward him, step by steady step.
Gongsun Zhanglan’s pupils tightened as he realized something was wrong—Lu Sheng’s wound showed no sign of discoloration, no swelling, no poison reaction at all.
“You—”149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDbHuFjS1H4
He had barely begun to speak when his breath caught. Lu Sheng’s body suddenly swelled, expanding like a living furnace. Arteries and veins bulged beneath his bare skin, thick cords of muscle rising and twisting across his torso. In a breath’s span, his frame doubled in size. The blood-red mark on his forehead deepened, glowing like a burning brand.
“This is the first time I’m using this move on a human,” Lu Sheng said as he advanced, each step heavier than the last. Two distinctly different inner forces surged wildly around him, intertwining like raging tides. “Please don’t disappoint me…”
“Wh—!”149Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3Ap59SEo8D
Gongsun Zhanglan hadn’t even finished exclaiming when Lu Sheng exploded forward—moving at twice the speed he had displayed before, a human battering ram hurtling toward him.
A titanic force drove Lu Sheng’s saber through the air, producing a deafening roar that split the wind itself. Compared to every strike he had executed earlier, this blow was monstrous—unrecognizably powerful, almost beyond comprehension.
Gongsun Zhanglan’s eyes stung as if stabbed by needles; the blade’s arc was too fast to see, leaving only streaking afterimages.
Instinct overrode thought. He threw up his spear in defense, the chain and tip shuddering violently.
BOOM!!!
Saber and spear collided—not with the ring of metal, but with a thunderous shockwave, their inner forces crashing together in a violent eruption.
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