Over a hundred men accepted the command, their roar shaking the heavens, their presence ferocious!
“Kill!”
“Protect the Second Young Master and Master Huang!” Xiao Liang’s men quickly closed ranks around him.
“Song Changfeng, you’re courting death!”
“Hmph… So what if I die!” Song Changfeng threw a punch.
It was like a tiger’s roar echoing through the mountains, and everyone saw the phantom of a great beast pouncing down from a summit.
It carried the momentum of the heavens, moved with the power of a tiger—the aura of a true king.
“Fierce Tiger Fist!”
This fist was created by an ancestor who observed a great tiger descending a mountain to hunt.
Many clans possessed the manuals to practice it.
But Huang Wenlong was holding the painting in one hand, terrified of damaging it.
With only one hand free to defend himself, he was no match.
He dodged and retreated, but in the blink of an eye, a fist connected.
The cloth on his shoulder shredded.
The skin beneath instantly turned a deep purple, and blood began to seep from his pores.
“Hand over the painting!”
“Dream on!”
“Then die!”
Song Changfeng made a grasping motion, and a nearby long-bladed saber flew into his hand.
He brought it down in a vicious slash.
BOOM!
Where the brilliant slash passed, foot-thick flagstones shattered.
The attack crossed a hundred feet, aimed directly at Huang Wenlong.
“Wen Long, run!”
“Dongfeng-1!” Huang Wenlong jabbed out fiercely with the fingers of his other hand.
In that instant, a violent power condensed, colliding with the slash like an exploding star.
The explosive force completely leveled the ground within a ten-meter radius.
“Let’s see how many more of those you’ve got!” Song Changfeng’s right hand was numb, but he charged forward again.
But Huang Wenlong had exhausted his strength with that single move.
In the instant he turned to flee, the saber’s light pierced through his chest like a bolt of lightning.
“Wen Long!” Xiao Liang roared.
“Song Changfeng, if anything happens to him, the Xiao Family will slaughter your entire clan!”
“Then I’ll just kill you along with him!” Song Changfeng roared, his hand reaching once more for the painting in Huang Wenlong’s grasp.
“Fierce Tiger Fist!”
A shout suddenly rang out from behind Song Changfeng.
The roar of a tiger drowned out all other sound as an astonishing power surged from the distance like a hurricane, transforming into a great beast that pounced toward Song Changfeng.
The vicious claws carried a light that seemed to tear through reality itself.
Though it was Shuidong Liu’s first time unleashing it, his technique was far more powerful than Song Changfeng’s.
“You dare!” Song Changfeng had no choice but to turn and defend himself.
The fist and saber collided violently.
Amid the outward blast of energy, Song Changfeng stumbled back three steps, his legs trembling.
When he got a clear look, he saw the newcomer was even younger than Huang Wenlong.
More importantly, Shuidong Liu, who had been empty-handed just a moment before, now held a long sword.
“Wen Long, leave this to me!”
“Be careful!” Huang Wenlong struggled to his feet, one hand clapped over his wound, and glared at Song Changfeng with hatred.
“Kill!” Seeing that they knew each other, Song Changfeng realized he would never get the painting unless he killed them, so he charged again.
Seeing this, Shuidong Liu roared in anger, “Trying to kill my brother in broad daylight?
You’re looking for death!”
Song Changfeng’s eyes were merciless.
He said nothing more.
This only enraged Shuidong Liu further.
“Die!”
“Dongfeng-1!”
As Shuidong Liu executed the move, Huang Wenlong calmed himself and watched intently.
Although Shuidong Liu had taught him the technique, he still couldn’t accept it when Xiaoyu and Xiao Yue’Er said he was leagues behind his teacher.
Song Changfeng sneered.
“Even Huang Wenlong was no match.
And you think you are?”
“Sunder the Heavens!”
The ferocious slash carried with it the stench of countless dismembered corpses and a surging sea of blood.
But Shuidong Liu’s sword strike pierced through the nine heavens, linking heaven and earth.
It was a world apart from Huang Wenlong’s version.
“Stop!”
The moment this sword strike appeared, Elder Song, watching from a distance, felt his scalp go numb.
He could no longer remain seated.
The moment he moved, the wind died and the clouds froze.
He seized control of all the ambient power within a hundred-meter radius.
“You’re the ones who should stop!”
The voice was clear and cold.
Xiao Yue’Er drifted into view, blocking Elder Song’s path.
In an instant, their powers collided, and the world, which had seemed to freeze, began to move again.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
The sword and saber clashed, and the resulting gale tore everything in its path to shreds.
Nearby buildings crumbled.
Song Changfeng was rocked by a wave of excruciating pain.
The force of the impact slammed the hilt of his saber back, tearing open the flesh between his thumb and forefinger down to the bone.
Shocked and enraged, he tried to move, but Shuidong Liu, empowered by the Dongfeng Sword Scripture, was far too fast.
The Dongfeng Sword was already at his neck!
“Halt!” Shuidong Liu roared, and the two distant combatants froze in surprise.
“Show mercy, show mercy!”
“Second Miss!” The old man, Song Si, retracted all his power and bowed low to Xiao Yue’Er.
“I beg you, Second Miss, please spare my son!”
“Spare him?”
“You bring this many men onto Xiao Family land, try to murder the Xiao Family’s son-in-law, and steal Xiao Family property, and you ask for mercy?”
Shuidong Liu raged, “I heard it loud and clear!
You were going to kill Second Brother, too!”
“This, sir…”
“Don’t try to act familiar.
When your son was about to kill Wen Long, why didn’t you stop him?”
“With Second Brother right here, you still dared to act this way.
You clearly have no respect for Dongling Mansion or Duke Zhen’s Mansion.”
“And now you’re begging for mercy?!”
“The nerve!”
With a flick of his wrist, Shuidong Liu slapped the flat of the Dongfeng Sword across Song Changfeng’s face.
“Talk!”
“You…” Song Changfeng’s face flushed with anger, but he looked up at Huang Wenlong and swallowed his rage.
“Master Huang, just give me the painting.
After that, kill me, torture me, do what you will.
I…”
“Silence!” Song Si snapped.
“Master Huang, don’t listen to his ravings.
I’ve lived a good life.
Death comes for us all… I have no regrets!”
“Father!”
“That’s enough!” Song Si sighed.
“We should stop this now, before the damage to either side gets any worse.”
“No!” Song Changfeng shook his head stubbornly.
All around them, the hundred men dropped to one knee in unison.
“We would die for our Mansion Master!”
“Nonsense!” Song Si cursed.
“You have parents, wives, and children at home!
You have…”
“It is thanks to the Mansion Master’s benevolence that we are here today!
He swept through ninety-nine cities, ridding them of every bandit and rogue.
It is because of him that our families want for nothing, our parents are healthy, and our wives and children live in peace.”
“At our Mansion Master’s command, we would cross a mountain of blades or a sea of fire!
Even if it means our very souls are scattered, we will not falter!”
Their gazes were resolute, their voices piercing the sky.
Shuidong Liu’s eyes widened as he watched them.
‘Soldiers.
These are trained soldiers!’
‘Since ancient times, none could surpass a soldier’s loyalty and righteousness!’
‘Who would not respect them?!’
‘For Song Changfeng to command such loyal men, he can’t be some brutish thief who doesn’t know right from wrong!’
Shuidong Liu’s grip on his sword loosened slightly.
“Why do you need the painting?”
“Dongliu,” Xiao Liang said hurriedly, “Wen Long bought this painting as a gift for my little sister.
It’s the Wind and Cloud Map, painted by a master of the Ten Realms of Longevity!
It will surely be of great use to her!”
Xiao Yue’Er froze, surprised to suddenly find herself part of the conversation.
Shuidong Liu was also taken aback.
Enduring the pain, Huang Wenlong forced a smile.
“It’s a valuable item… but I won it fair and square.
Why should I give it to them?”
“You…” Song Changfeng retorted.
“The Second Miss is the number one genius of the Dynasty!
Whatever she wants to cultivate, to break through, to achieve—the Yunlong Dynasty provides for her.
Do you really think she’s hurting for one measly painting?”
“So what?
The Dynasty is the Dynasty, and I am me!” Huang Wenlong shouted angrily.
“It’s a matter of personal relationships, you get it?
Song, I’m showing you respect by calling you that, so don’t be an ungrateful fool.
This is Celestial Fragrance City, not Celestial Wind City!”
“That’s right!
You need to repay your father’s kindness, but do you think other people don’t have their own needs?”
“You… Just agree!
Anything I have to give—my life, the Celestial Wind Mansion—if you want it, take it!” Song Changfeng yelled, seeing that Shuidong Liu was also unmoved.
“Your father is just at the end of his life, that’s all,” Shuidong Liu stated casually.
“What!” Song Changfeng roared in fury.
“How can you say that so easily?
What do you mean, ‘that’s all’?
This is a life!
A life!
Don’t you have a father?
Could you just stand by and watch your own father die?”
“What’s the big deal?
Just have him break through,” Shuidong Liu said calmly.