Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 309 - 19 Jianghu Veterans, Night Battle (1/2)

The sound of clattering, those wood splinters swept up by the Fist Strength lost their momentum and fell to the ground.

Wang Anfeng watched the imposing old man on the other side.

The latter didn’t make any special moves, merely standing there casually, yet the powerful oppressive force filled Wang Anfeng with breathlessness, his breath slowing and every muscle beneath his simple clothes tensing slowly.

The flow of Inner Strength rapidly increased, with robust power surfacing within his body.

A ripple of Qi Force surged under the feet of the young man.

Zhao Zhengyong looked at Wang Anfeng and frowned slightly. Although his previous move was just a probe, at his level of martial arts, even a casual move carried great might. An ordinary Seventh Rank Martial Artist would not have been able to dodge it so effortlessly, which added a hint of wariness in his heart. Yet he did not show any signs of fear and burst into laughter, declaring in a loud voice,

"Who is this friend who comes from who-knows-where, hiding his head and showing his tail, what kind of appearance is that?!"

"Wouldn’t it be better to meet frankly?!"

Before his voice had finished echoing, his body suddenly swept forward several meters. As the word "frankly" fell, he had already appeared in front of Wang Anfeng, his right fist clenched, breaking through the air and smashing down at Wang Anfeng without any mercy.

With a magnanimous vigor, even before the fist was close, Wang Anfeng felt a stinging all over his body, as if being pricked by needles, aware that the old man before him was after all a renowned figure of Jianghu and not someone to be compared with the earlier riff-raff.

Stimulating the Golden Bell Shield Inner Strength, he sidestepped to the left, using his left foot as a pivot to spin around, transforming his right hand into a palm, secretly exerting the Ten Powers of Tathagata and fiercely smashing toward the old man’s wrist. Facing an opponent who was a lifetime rival, Wang Anfeng spared no effort in his attack, pouring his Full Strength into it, with the sound of Buddhist Scripture starting to resonate abruptly.

The colossal forces collided, creating waves of Qi, causing both bodies to stiffen for a moment.

Although the old man’s Inner Strength was mature, he was ultimately advanced in age and his strength could not compare to Wang Anfeng’s. With the angle of Anfeng’s attack being very tricky, it actually resulted in a stalemate under one move. Zhao Zhengyong’s pupils shrank slightly, and the cheeks of the youth hidden behind the mask turned a shade paler, clearly straining greatly.

Zhao Zhengyong let out a low growl, his body coiling into a ball and fiercely lunging at Wang Anfeng’s chest. His fist technique became cruel and overbearing, mercilessly aiming for the youth’s vital points. Wang Anfeng’s pupils contracted; he had not expected the old man before him to resort to such a desperate and unashamed fighting style after a single exchange.

A spark of electricity flashed through the black pupils.

Wang Anfeng’s body suddenly retreated, moving several times faster than before, evading Zhao Zhengyong’s crushing fist. The latter misjudged, exposing a flaw instead; Anfeng shouted lowly, raising his right palm, and smacked down towards the other’s neck. The Vigorous Qi was extremely fierce, causing the old man’s white hair to fly chaotically.

"Well met!"

Zhao Zhengyong’s eyes slightly opened wide, and he shouted explosively, Gang Qi surging around his body like a colossal elephant protecting him. Wang Anfeng’s palm struck down, and the immense strength that could shake ten thousand jin was instantly neutralized by more than seventy percent, leaving only thirty percent flowing into Zhao Zhengyong, turning his complexion pale and making him feel nauseous, yet he still clenched his teeth and laughed out loud, saying,

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"Good palm power, excellent External Cultivation!"

"Try this move of this old man!"

In an instant, the originally hard and immense Gang Qi elephant violently transformed into a pool of lake-like substance, unusually sticky and swirling, dragging Wang Anfeng into it, rendering him immobile. His cohesive Fist Strength almost instantly revealed flaws, and his expression involuntarily shifted slightly.

Zhao Zhengyong exhaled forcefully as he had already thrown numerous punches, the Vigorous Qi layering atop one another and surging toward Wang Anfeng like a raging river from the Yangtze.

Wang Anfeng’s pupils contracted; he clenched his teeth, suddenly hearing the explosive sound of the Golden Bell. His Inner Strength was extended to its limit at that moment; golden-red Buddhist Scriptures appeared at his brow, and the phantom image of the Golden Bell emerged above his body. The giant Gang Qi elephant was struck and seemed to be affected.

Just at that moment, thunder rolled over the Golden Bell, forcefully shattering the Vigorous Qi surrounding Wang Anfeng. In the blink of an eye when the restraint was broken, Wang Anfeng shot back like a wild goose, retreating numerous yards.

Even though his reactions were extremely sharp, his opponent was also a seasoned Martial Artist from Jianghu who struck swiftly and without mercy. Wang Anfeng barely dodged a potentially fatal blow, but his shoulder was grazed by the overlapping waves of Fist Strength; he grunted and stumbled aside, his clothing shredding into pieces.

The exposed shoulder suddenly blazed with golden light, deflecting the Fist Strength, but the initially fiery Buddhist Scriptures had dimmed considerably; it was clear they couldn’t withstand much more. Yet, at that moment, Wang Anfeng saw his elderly opponent at the critical juncture between exhausted old strength and unrisen new force. His eyes lit up, and his right hand swept from his waist.

Amidst the fierce sound of tearing air, the high-quality Hidden Weapons his Third Master had given him the previous year shot out several cold glints, infused with Inner Strength, piercing through the already flawed Protective Gang Qi. The latter hadn’t expected someone who obviously favored External Cultivation to possess such skill with Hidden Weapons, an expression of astonishment flickering across his face as he instinctively raised his hand to deflect.

The Gang wind fiercely diverted the Hidden Weapons.

With a pattering sound, Wang Anfeng landed on the ground, his fingers already gripping a copper coin. With a flick of his right hand, the copper coin shot out with a cold glint, flying straight at Zhao Zhengyong, who felt a pang of alarm in his heart; however, it seemed as though the former was out of strength, and the Hidden Weapon evidently missed, allowing Zhao’s tension to ease slightly.

But at that moment, the thrown copper coin struck a Flying Dagger that had been deflected in the air, emitting a sharp clang. The previously deflected Flying Dagger changed direction once more, shooting towards another Flying Dagger, and suddenly the sound of clanging blades was incessant, cold glints slashing through the air, their trajectory increasingly unpredictable.

Zhao Zhengyong’s heart turned cold; he had traversed the Jianghu for many years, never once encountering such bizarre Hidden Weapons. His scalp prickled as he yelled out in anger, sweeping his Fist Strength across the air to deflect those peculiar Hidden Weapons, paying no heed to the young man who’d fallen to the ground.

Wang Anfeng violently flung his right hand.

As the cold glint suddenly appeared, Zhao Zhengyong was deflecting the last ever-changing Hidden Weapon, leaving himself wide open. He felt a sudden pain in his waist and stumbled backwards several steps, his face already pale. Stay connected through novelbuddy

In his waist, a Gilded Throwing Blade was deeply embedded, bright red blood incessantly flowed from the extremely sinister wound, gathering in the dragon-shaped hilt and pooling in the eyes, a sudden emergence of a blood light that became increasingly bizarre.

As intense pain surged, Zhao Zhengyong bellowed and pulled the Flying Dagger out with a swift motion, clutching his wound with his right hand. The blade’s wound was extremely malicious, leaving a ragged and uneven tear, blood gushing uncontrollably, almost impossible to stop.

Wang Anfeng glanced at the Gilded Throwing Blade; his shoulder pain was unbearable, almost feeling as if it was being torn apart.

The sound of labored and erratic breathing filled the courtyard, and for a moment it returned to a stand-off between the two men, just like when the confrontation had first started. However, both had since exchanged several moves, each one a battle-hardened survivor of countless life-and-death struggles, adept at seizing any flaw revealed by the other, with lethal moves perilous in the extreme. An ordinary Martial Artist would have long been defeated by their hands.

Wang Anfeng let out a soft breath, his right hand’s fingers rhythmically moving, his expression slightly solemn.

Today, he had learned enough.

He must leave.

His gaze fell upon the flying dagger again, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

If Mr. Ying knew that the sixteenth birthday gift he had given him was now in the old man’s hands, returning home would not go well; he could very well get a thorough beating.

Just at this moment, a sudden rush of footsteps sounded from the surrounding courtyards. House servants clad in cloth armor were sprinting towards him, at least thirty or forty strong. Even as they hastened, Wang Anfeng could see from their ocular power the powerful crossbows in their hands, their chilling sharpness making his expression grow even more solemn.

He couldn’t delay any longer...

If he delayed, he feared he might not be able to leave.

Wang Anfeng’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took a deep breath.

Zhao Zhengyong was eyeing his opponent in front of him.

The other’s face was covered with a dark gold mask, cold and hard, showing no change in expression, but from the recent exchange, the opponent’s martial body was clearly beneath his own. Though combat between martial artists was ever-changing and not decided solely by internal strength martial bodies, it at least proved that there was a limit to the opponent’s strength.

He wouldn’t give him the chance to use hidden weapons.

With the support of the powerful crossbow, they could hold him down!

The old man gritted his teeth, his eyes revealing a crazed bloodlust.

That matter must not be revealed to anyone... Otherwise, even with the Zhao family’s powerful backing, it would be terribly disadvantageous!

With his left hand, he fiercely threw the flying dagger to the ground and bellowed,

"Arm the bows and load the bolts, boy, don’t you flee!"

Before the words were finished, he had already pounced forward, like a wounded beast attacking with more ferocity, abandoning the hidden subtlety of his strength, his fist technique even more overwhelming than before. Wang Anfeng’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew that with his current injured strength, he couldn’t possibly withstand this strike. Hearing the sound of the crossbow bolts being drawn next to his ear, he gritted his teeth.

Without retreating or dodging, he aggressively stepped forward.

The dark gold patterns on the mask began to faintly glow.

This was a gift from Mr. Ying two years ago, meant to intimidate Gongsun Jing. After Gongsun Guixin returned, he had seldom used it, but now its effectiveness was as proficient as ever. Just as Wang Anfeng and Zhao Zhengyong were still several meters apart, a golden dragon coiled up from the young man’s body, illuminating the surroundings. Its scales glistened with flowing light as it turned its head towards Zhao Zhengyong.

The latter’s heart surged, and his vigorous qi involuntarily withdrew by a third. He saw the dragon-shaped qi appear as if it truly existed, its ferocious teeth slightly open, emitting a sharp killing intent. With a sudden long cry, its reverberating echo vigorously lunged and intertwined with Wang Anfeng’s right arm.

"Ha!"

Wang Anfeng shouted loudly, his right fist becoming a palm, the Thunder Vigor intertwining as he executed the seventh move of the Prajna Palm, ’The Appearance of No Appearance.’ The vigorous qi was not prominent, but there was an overwhelming and fierce momentum that pressed down on everyone’s hearts, causing an immense suppression.

Zhao Zhengyong’s heart surged again, suddenly recalling that when his opponent had made his move earlier, he had not invoked the forces of Heaven and Earth, relying solely on his own cultivation. His physical combat had slightly overwhelmed Zhao, but now that he was invoking heavenly shapes, the power of this palm strike increased explosively, filling Zhao with great fear.

The fist strength he had already smashed out was abruptly redirected, crashing to the ground. Using that force, he shifted about ten feet to the left while simultaneously yelling,

"Fire!"

But the sound of the bowstrings vibrating like muffled thunder, a flurry of black crossbow bolts shot towards Wang Anfeng. Mid-air, he swiftly twisted his body, the vigorous palm strike acting like a solid wall. The bolts that fired out seemed to sink into a marsh, their speed abruptly slowing.

Wang Anfeng summoned his energy to rise and shouted explosively. With a tug of his right hand, those bolts were shifted aside. As he swiftly changed his stance, his right hand grasped several bolts and violently flung them. With the added might of the Ten Powers of Tathagata, the force was as fierce as that of the powerful crossbow, piercing through the legs of several house servants, who fell to the ground with agonizing screams.

Though he didn’t take their lives, they were unable to take further action, causing chaos among their ranks. Meanwhile, Wang Anfeng had already leaped away, stretching his right hand with energy surging between his fingers, seizing the golden flying dagger in his grasp. Springing into the air, in the blink of an eye, he had already left far behind.

Zhao Zhengyong’s fright faded, but sensing something amiss, he took two quick steps in pursuit, only to feel heat emanating from his waist wound, as if thousands of tiny bugs were crawling about. He could only throw a punch and remain stationary, unable to walk further, his direct and unchanging fist technique unable to retain his quarry. In a mere few breaths, the figure was out of sight.

"Damn it!"

Zhao Zhengyong, seething with rage at his momentary weakness, was about to lash out when he noticed a shiny object nearby. Clutching his abdominal wound, he lifted his left hand and drew the object towards him. Upon closer inspection, he found it was a waist token with a green face and sharp teeth. His expression changed slightly before he furiously punched out and snarled,

"Assassin..."

"What a skilled assassin! Go check who has been hiring assassins around here lately!"

"Yes!"

PS: Here comes the first update...