Chapter 701: Chapter 23 A Mighty Wind Arises!!! (Combined)
Streaks of light approached with extre speed, showing no rcy and intent on claiming life. Hang Yong’s heart trembled as he saw his dazed and bewildered younger fellow disciple, and from nowhere, a surge of strength burst forth, propelling him forward with a fierce lunge.
Yet it was a full-force strike designed to establish dominance by a Middle Third Rank Martial Artist; even if he gave it his all, it was futile. The best outco would simply be to be nailed to the ground alongside his disciple.
The sword tassel his mother had given him still hung at his waist.
It was the very one the always-smiling young master had thrown to him after he had mustered the courage to speak with those n in black, saying that since it was a gift from his mother, it should be cherished and protected well.
Hang Yong clenched his teeth tightly and closed his eyes, the bright yellow sword tassel fluttering.
Mother… I have failed you…
With a thunderous explosion, the energy burst forth!
The violently shot arrow was suddenly grasped in midair, the thick air wrapped around it tearing and flowing, the sound of fluttering clothes loud and clear.
Hang Yong, trembling, opened his eyes and saw the young man who led the Qing Taoqi blocking in front of him, the previously deadly arrow now firmly in his hand.
Wu Feiwen, who could ride the wind and traverse the sky, recognized Wang Anfeng, who had previously made his blood and energy churn with a barrage of arrows. Wu’s complexion briefly showed panic, but noticing that Wang no longer held the frighteningly powerful Strong Bow, he felt relieved and burst into laughter, shouting,
“What courage! What martial arts!”
“I want to see how many more tis you can catch!”
Amidst his howling laughter, Wu Feiwen stepped onto visibly solid air bricks in the void, vaulting upward, once again drawing his Strong Bow with connecting strength, and in the blink of an eye, another arrow was charged and shot forth with force.
By this ti, countless Martial Artists had already gathered outside the valley, drawn by the news. Martial Artists of Jianghu enjoyed watching masters compete, and while many died each year from such spectacles, they could not help themselves, and now, seeing the arrow’s power reminiscent of dragons and tigers, they exclaid in awe.
So knowledgeable Martial Artists loudly explained to those around them how domineering and ferocious this move was, and that even if it were an ordinary martial practitioner, ten of them would not stand a chance and would be pierced through on the spot.
The arrow flew like a beam of light, and the traps painstakingly prepared by Yuchi Jie and Huang Xiaoping in the valley sprang to life. Boulders and rocky cliffs rained down, but even the green stones, three tis thicker than ordinary mountain walls, were easily penetrated.
The montum of the arrow did not diminish until it reached the young man who had stopped the previous one.
Just as the arrow was about to pierce through him, the young man stepped to the side, raising his right hand, and the arrow he held, like a sword, rested upon the incoming beam of light.
A deep footprint was left where he stood, and the arrow capable of piercing through mountains was effortlessly blocked.
The young man looked up emotionless, gazing outward.
Even Wu Feiwen realized sothing was amiss by now and hastily retreated, but with Wang Anfeng having no Strong Bow in hand, he seed relentless, stepping forward abruptly with a cold expression, his right hand glowing with a faint golden hue.
Gripping the arrow, he launched it forcefully, turning the fleeting arrow into a roaring thunder, creating a trendous montum that broke through over a hundred paces in space, piercing fiercely through Wu Feiwen’s shoulder from behind.
Wu Feiwen’s movents faltered in an instant.
A gentle and scholarly voice sounded in the air.
“Please show rcy…”
The Martial Artists who had been preparing to enjoy the show from the treetops and mountain rocks outside the valley couldn’t help but exclaim upon seeing a refined middle-aged man in white, walking with his hands behind his back, exuding the grace of a Grandmaster and a sense of effortless composure.
Wu Feiwen felt montarily relieved, only then did the piercing pain surged in his mind.
In the next instant, a second arrow shot across the sky like a teor without hesitation, piercing directly through the slackened Wu Feiwen, cleanly penetrating his heart, the rotating arrowhead dragging a trail of blood behind.
And only then did the thunderous breaking sound rumble continuously, as Wu Feiwen’s body fell like a kite with its string cut, and amidst the thunder-like roars, Wang Anfeng withdrew his hand.
Hang Yong’s gaze shifted slightly, noticing the bloodstains along his palm.
Dead silence followed.
Several breaths passed before Wu Feiwen’s body heavily crashed to the ground, a once prominent figure of Jianghu, fierce and ruthless, now eting a grueso end, his head striking a large rock. The onlookers couldn’t help but shudder and feel tingles on their scalp.
Wang Anfeng looked up at the Hero who had road Jianghu for twenty-three years and calmly said,
“So he’s dead. What of it?”
Jiangdong’s Hero, Cao Donglin, stood in midair, his effortless deanor rare even within the vast Jianghu, adding an air of composure and ease.
The surrounding Martial Artists were clad in Vigorous Attire, yet he alone wore simple white clothes, made from coarse fabric that any ordinary family could weave in a matter of days. It was the garb of the common folk, and yet on Cao Donglin, it took on an air of returning to simplicity.
On his left was a withered-looking man, resembling a mummified corpse, shrouded in a black robe that flapped in the wind, creating a rustling sound. On his right, there stood a tall Swordsman with imposing brows and an extraordinary deanor. Hearing Wang Anfeng’s response, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.
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