Chapter 48: Ferocious Might!
Hong Yuan didn’t care whether there were any survivors left, stepping forward into the private room.
With a thrust of the short staff in his hand, in the midst of its rotation it connected seamlessly with the short spear still embedded in the armored soldier’s chest, producing a crisp ‘ding’ sound as they fit perfectly together.
Life-Snatching Throat-Locking Spear in hand!
Hong Yuan didn’t even pull out the spearhead; with a gentle lift of his palm, he hoisted up the armored soldier’s corpse along with it, suddenly smashing it into two oncoming armored soldiers.
Before these two could get up, ‘whoosh whoosh’ sounds tore through the air.
Two spear thrusts nearly simultaneously pierced their throats; the throat armor plates were like torn silk before this cold iron spear!
Guo Zhen cried out hoarsely: “I am the Left Commander of Golden Soup Camp, Guo Zhen! Whoever kills this thief for me, I will recommend him to join Golden Soup Camp as a Battalion Commander!”
His words echoed through the courtyard.
At these words, the remaining martial artists who had been intimidated by Hong Yuan’s ferocity, as well as the guards around the other nobles, all began to have ideas.
A Battalion Commander in Golden Soup Camp could command at least one or two hundred regular soldiers; for these martial artists, it was practically a meteoric rise.
Third Master Jin of the Grain Transport Gang’s face flickered with changing expressions; gritting his teeth, he ordered the guards around him: “Quickly go save Commander Guo, quick! Quick!”
He himself didn’t care about any Battalion Commander position, but if he rescued Commander Guo, that favor would be enormous, greatly helping to stabilize his position in the Grain Transport Gang or even advance further.
Before these people could act, suddenly, a sharp aura burst from under Hong Yuan’s feet, like a poisonous snake that had been hidden for a long time, erupting only at the perfect moment.
A long sword with a cold gleam suddenly thrust out, piercing through the floorboards from below, aiming straight for the vital point under Hong Yuan’s body.
As the chilling aura burst forth, a cold voice rang out: “Heart-Piercing Sword Lin Xiu, killing this fiend for the Commander!”
Among the many martial artists at this Hero’s Arena, three had the highest acclaim: Smiling Buddha, Iron Chain Crossing the River Zhao Heng, and Heart-Piercing Sword Lin Xiu.
When the earlier martial artists had lunged to combat Hong Yuan, Lin Xiu had also moved, but not to leap onto the platform for a direct confrontation; instead, he had quietly arrived at the private room below Guo Zhen.
He was waiting.
Until this moment, the true force he had been quietly gathering erupted, surging power converging onto the long sword.
Lin Xiu had not yet reached the ‘freely control’ level, but he had already touched the threshold; this burst was truly like a raging hurricane, the floorboards shattering inch by inch, the sword light like a startling bolt of cold lightning, flashing forth in an instant.
A sword thrust both fast and vicious, able to pierce the enemy from below in a blink.
A ferocious grin hung on Lin Xiu’s face, as if he could already hear his opponent’s screams, or see himself clad in ornate official robes, issuing commands imperiously.
Until a ‘pfft’ sound, that swift sword light extinguished like a candle flame gently pinched out.
The one extinguishing this candle flame was a foot!
Hong Yuan stomped down with one foot; that lightning-like sword light should have pierced his sole, but under this stomp, the long sword trembled and deflected sideways, then was pinned under his foot by the blade.
In the next instant, a powerful force transmitted through the sword body, spreading to Lin Xiu’s palm.
This Lin Xiu was a young man in his twenties with a cold expression; at such an age, to have reached this level of martial arts already marked him as a young talent with a bright future.
But with this surging force, Lin Xiu had no time to release and abandon the sword; the sword body became a seesaw, and with a booming muffled sound, it catapulted his entire body into the air.
Directly flying him into the second-floor private room.
A large hand came down, gripping his neck like clutching a squawking duck, hoisting him into midair.
“Who do you want to kill?”
Hong Yuan met his gaze, his expression unfriendly.
In this brief delay, the several guards around Guo Zhen had broken through the back wall, carrying Guo Zhen as they leaped down.
Lin Xiu suddenly felt his whole body go limp, squeezing two words from his throat: “Spare my life…”
“You’re a grown man, still acting so childish!”
Hong Yuan’s gaze shifted, spotting a bulky figure lunging toward Yang Erhu on the platform.
It was unmistakably a large monk wearing prayer beads with a smiling face: Smiling Buddha.
This was also why Hong Yuan hadn’t pursued Guo Zhen.
His expression unchanged, he grabbed Lin Xiu and leaped out, arriving first despite starting later, using Lin Xiu’s entire body as a heavy hammer, smashing fiercely toward Smiling Buddha.
Unexpectedly, Smiling Buddha chuckled, clearly prepared; his body shifted and changed.
Though he was wide and bulky, his footwork was extremely swift and agile, his monk robes fluttering like a fat goose flapping its wings.
Swish!
While nimbly dodging the smash, his body shifted to Hong Yuan’s side, a fist the size of a begging bowl blasting out, smashing toward his temple!
Lin Xiu’s body smashed through the railing, sharp wooden splinters exploding and piercing into his chest.
And with the momentum of Hong Yuan’s smash, it was precisely the moment when new force was exhausted and old force not yet regenerated; from the side came Smiling Buddha’s fist breaking through the air, and from behind a fierce force assaulted.
Clatter!
Chains rang wildly, coiling fiercely from behind Hong Yuan, whipping toward his neck—it was the last of the three, Iron Chain Crossing the River Zhao Heng, making his move.
The two had seen that Hong Yuan and Yang Erhu were not ordinary acquaintances; their attack on Yang Erhu was just a feint to lure him into the trap, striking from front and back.
At this moment, the two unleashed their charged strikes simultaneously, both bursting with true force—an absolute killing blow!
“Die!”
Zhao Heng was a dark-skinned middle-aged man; the chain about two zhang long was half wrapped around his arm, one end coiling like a dragon, this venomous dragon poised to devour the opponent whole.
Sizzle!
Suddenly, a silver gleam flashed at the corner of his eye; a silver flash broke through the air, piercing through the chain’s gaps like a fierce bolt of lightning, arriving in an instant.
Zhao Heng’s chest went cold; he looked down, his ferocious expression frozen.
A silver spear had stabbed into his body; as the spearhead was withdrawn, it took away all his strength.
Hong Yuan wielded the spear in a backhand thrust, taking Zhao Heng’s life with one strike, while his left hand clenched tight, punching straight toward Smiling Buddha’s fist.
Whether it was that swordsman Lin Xiu, or Smiling Buddha and Zhao Heng, in truth all three had extremely rich combat experience and very ruthless methods.
Even a Microscopic Level Grandmaster, facing these two sneak attacks, would likely be injured if not killed.
After all, in this life’s martial path, the Microscopic Level was merely a stronger physique and deeper force transformation, without an essential difference from martial artists below.
Being ordinary people, they could still be assassinated and killed.
Hong Yuan was also of mortal body, yet he had gradually developed some divine traits; these three’s sneak attacks had long fallen within his spiritual sense.
Even dodging the big monk’s punch would have been effortless for him.
But there was no need.
Bang!
Fist meeting fist, Smiling Buddha smiled no more; his face swelled to the color of pig liver, as if about to roar furiously, his massive fist exploding with the sound of shattering bones.
What shattered was not just the finger bones; the powerful force spread upward, Smiling Buddha’s wrist bones also crumbling inch by inch. As he tried to roar, a fist shadow flashed, already striking his fat face.
Smiling Buddha’s body tumbled through the air, crashing off the platform onto the ground tiles.
The courtyard descended into chaos; the remaining few martial artists, the noble clansmen in the various private rooms, and their guards—all gaped in shock and horror.
Third Master Jin of the Grain Transport Gang had just sent his dozen or so guards to rescue Guo Zhen; these men had barely run ten paces when they all froze in their tracks, faces drained of color.
Send them to fight such a fierce person?
Real or fake?
Too ferocious, too brutal!
When had they ever seen such a ruthless figure!
From this man’s appearance, brutally beating Young Master Hua, killing He Xiaofeng, to the crowd of martial artists rising against him—how much time had passed in total?
At most just a dozen or twenty breaths!
The opponent was like chopping vegetables, slaying several armored soldiers and over a dozen skilled martial artists; such a fierce person, let alone seeing, they had never even heard of—only the demons and vengeful ghosts in storybooks had such savage might. Who wouldn’t be afraid?
Who would still dare step forward to fight?
Hong Yuan flicked his wrist, the dark spear tip tapping the chain; amid intense friction sounds, sparks flew, landing on the dangling curtain and quickly igniting a blaze.
The spear flicked up!
Clatter!
The nearly two-zhang-long chain coiled up, falling into Hong Yuan’s left hand with a whoosh; with a slight squeeze, the chain was only two fingers thick, tough in texture, clearly made of superior material.
“So fond of watching people fight and kill?”
“What’s fun about just sitting and watching?”
“Hong will give you all a sense of participation—let’s play a battle royale!”
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
Chain in hand, with a flick of Hong Yuan’s palm, it shot out like an angry dragon.
Around this arena stage stood four massive stone pillars, each topped with a huge gilded bronze basin filled with fire oil, blazing brightly and illuminating the vast courtyard.
But as the chain struck like a dragon, it suddenly shattered the top of one stone pillar into gravel; a bronze basin instantly loosened, coiled up by the chain and flung into the air.
Roaring flames!
The copper basin buzzed and shook violently, flames bursting from within, countless sparks blooming like fireworks in midair, then falling like fiery blossoms onto the surrounding pavilions.
Hong Yuan didn’t stop; the chain spun rapidly in his palm. The shattered stone chunks hadn’t yet landed when he whipped them out with the chain; ‘clang clang clang’ rang out like bells and chimes.
Fire oil splashed from three bronze fire basins, flames shooting in all directions, even landing on some panicked fleeing people who couldn’t dodge, instantly filling the air with screams of agony.
At the same time, flames rose in the surrounding pavilions.
Cries of alarm erupted, crowds of figures scrambling, wailing for parents, all fleeing outward.
Only now did Young Master Hua pull his head out from the floorboards, screaming in unbearable pain; his originally handsome face was now a mess of flesh and blood.
Suddenly his head sank again; a foot stomped it back in, and a voice said: “Teacher, why are you here?”
