bookandnovel Chapter 74 The War Begins 3
Chapter 74 The War Begins 3
The five masked men exchanged a glance.
They surrounded Lin Mu, and the initial fierce attack gradually changed to a different rhythm.
Tiger Head's Wild Bull Fist no longer delivers every punch with a visceral impact; instead, each punch leaves room for maneuver.
Leopard Head's Stone Claws no longer specifically lock joints, but are used more to block and retreat when the spear tip thrusts;
Eagle Head's iron sleeves swept with a fluttering sound, yet he always maintained a distance of more than half a zhang from Lin Mu.
The wolf-headed man's short knife darted behind him, its tip flickering uncertainly, but each time he closed in, he would retreat before the spear's tail swept towards him.
The owl stood on the outermost edge, its fist poised but not yet ready to strike. Its amber eyes were no longer searching for Lin Mu's weaknesses, but rather observing the positions of the other four.
They stopped trying to break through the gun circle and instead trapped him.
Lin Mu quickly noticed this change.
He decided to hold back a bit, maintaining a pace that allowed him to protect himself without expending too much energy.
Occasionally, the spear tip would pierce out to force back the tiger head in front, while the spear tail would sweep away the eagle head on the side, and then the gaze would pass over the encirclement of the five people and land on the other end of the arena.
On the other side of the arena, the battle between Quan Feng and Yan Hua had reached a fever pitch.
Zhenshan Fist versus Changfeng Fist: the explosive force advances layer by layer, each punch heavier than the last.
With each strike imbued with explosive power, Quan Feng's short sword possessed immense force, causing fine cracks to appear in the rammed earth wherever the blade passed.
Yan Hua's Long Wind Fist is as light and agile as water. His palms fly and deflect the force of the blows. Occasionally, one or two palms will pierce through Quan Feng's sword curtain and strike his shoulder or ribs.
Even at this point, neither of them has used their trump cards.
Quan Feng's beast markings were still hidden within his body, and Yan Hua's great demon bloodline remained dormant.
This is a pure clash of neutralizing forces against neutralizing forces, fists and feet against a short sword, the explosive force of Zhenshan Martial Arts School against the penetrating force of Changfeng Martial Arts School.
Below the arena, the crowd held their breath in suspense.
The dockworkers craned their necks to look at the ring.
The girls of Drunken Red Mansion stood on tiptoe atop the carriage;
Even Old Wang, who sells sesame cakes, forgot to turn over the cakes on the oven, letting the burnt smell drift in the morning breeze.
Duanmu Hong placed his teacup on the armrest at some point, leaned forward slightly, and looked over the dust swirling on the arena, landing on Quan Feng and Yan Hua.
He was so focused that he didn't touch his tea even when his attendant refilled it twice.
Quan Feng forced back Yan Hua's palm strike with a single slash, using the force to retreat half a step.
He turned his head, his gaze passing over Yan Hua's shoulder, and glanced at Lin Mu, who was surrounded by five people in the center.
The dark blue spear continued to dart among the five men, its tip striking precisely the wrist or knee of the man at the forefront with each thrust, locking the encirclement in place time and time again.
Quan Feng withdrew his gaze and took a deep breath.
He didn't want to drag it out any longer. Even if he defeated Yan Hua, Lin Mu would eventually be exhausted and the five of them would find a weakness.
A faint, thin golden line suddenly appeared on his right arm—spreading from the back of his neck to his wrist. The line was fine and ancient, gleaming with a warm luster in the morning light.
Those are the animal markings of the Golden-Winged Phoenix.
He didn't push it to its limit, but simply let the power of the beast pattern lightly cover the surface of his skin, like wearing a layer of golden gauze.
Duanmu Hong's pupils contracted slightly.
The exclusive beast pattern of the Quan family, the original mark of the Golden-Winged Phoenix.
With the beast pattern enhancing his abilities, Quan Feng's speed and strength increased dramatically.
He stomped his left foot on the ground, leaving a golden afterimage. His white robe was still in place when he was already in front of Yan Hua, his short knife aimed straight for his throat.
This strike was faster than all the previous strikes combined. It was so fast that Yan Hua's fist intent hadn't even had time to fully lock onto its trajectory before the blade had already grazed his skin.
Yan Hua instinctively turned his head to avoid the blade, which grazed his neck, leaving a very thin bloodstain on the side of his neck.
Immediately afterwards, the second cut reached his ribs, and the third cut reached his chest.
Quan Feng's offensive poured out like a storm, each strike faster and more cunning than the last.
Yan Hua retreated repeatedly amidst the shadows of the blades. His palm strikes of the Long Wind Fist were forced to be blocked by the beast patterns of the Golden-Winged Phoenix, leaving him only able to passively parry.
When he was struck on the fifth time, his right shoulder was hit by the back of the blade, and his entire right arm stiffened.
When the blade grazed his ribs on the seventh strike, his white robe tore open, revealing bleeding skin underneath.
His breathing became heavier and his steps became more and more disordered. Although his internal energy could still catch up with Quan Feng's sword path, his body's reaction was gradually unable to keep up with the speed enhanced by the beast pattern.
The audience below the stage began to stir.
Several dockworkers raised their fists and shouted, "Quanfeng! Quanfeng!"
The junior disciples of Zhenshan Martial Arts School couldn't help but stand up, and Ye Zhaoxi also secretly clenched his fist.
At this moment, Yan Hua was forced back to the edge of the ring, his heel on the white line.
Blood was seeping from the web of his right palm, dripping down his fingers and onto the rammed earth.
Then patterns appeared on his body, spreading from the back of his neck to his right arm. The patterns were extremely fine and dense, dark gold, each one gleaming with a cold luster in the morning light.
This dark gold lacks the gentle divinity of the Golden-Winged Phoenix, instead possessing a more primal and chilling sense of oppression, like a snake slowly awakening beneath the ice of deep winter.
Nine-Headed Serpent Bloodline?
Duanmu Hong's eyes narrowed, and he murmured something.
Nine-Headed Serpent Bloodline, Nine Heads and Nine Lives.
Nine dark gold dots rotated silently at the back of the neck; each one represented a life.
You used all your strength to kill him once, severing his meridians and cutting off his life force, leaving him lying at your feet like a withered tree.
Then the extinguished patterns lit up again, starting with the first one, like the eyes of a snake opening one by one in the abyss, the second, the third, until all nine stars reignited.
Of course, rebirth comes at a price.
Each time a person dies, the demonic will deep within their bloodline creeps into their very being like a vine, increasing their madness until their nine lives are exhausted.
Lin Mu, holding a long spear, was also observing from within the encirclement of the five people, without receiving any guidance from the Martial Arts Myriad Techniques.
He discovered that for higher-level powers, the speed at which martial arts techniques could be replicated would be significantly slower.
In the arena, Yan Hua stood up straight, raised his hand to wipe away the bloodstains on the side of his neck, and stared coldly at Quan Feng, like a venomous snake spitting its tongue.
Two completely different auras of demonic lineage collided silently.
The warm golden light of the Golden-Winged Phoenix and the dark, cold golden light of the Nine-Headed Serpent intertwined in the morning light, creating an indescribable sense of oppression in the air.
The two clashed again.
The combination of Zhenshan Fist with Golden-Winged Phoenix Beast Pattern and Changfeng Fist with Nine-Headed Serpent Bloodline achieved a new balance in speed and power at the same level.
The muffled thuds of the blades clashing against each other were as dense as a torrential downpour hitting a tin roof, and each strike caused the rammed earth surface of the arena to crack inch by inch.
The two fought fiercely, risking their lives. The crowd watching was completely silent. Even Quan Feng didn't notice that his short sword had been chipped in several places during the high-speed collision.