Chapter 608: Ten Percent Struggle, The Dying Man

Wang Xianzhi scanned his surroundings, his demeanor bleak. Though the sight of Xu Fengnian before him brought a slight surprise, it was still far less impressive than the battle he had envisioned. If Chen Zhibao hadn't left Liang for Shu, if Xu Yanbing had come bearing the Shattering Spear, and if Luoyang, who seemed to have a hidden connection with North Liang, had joined them—with these three supporting the young feudal king, only then could a truly satisfying battle have been fought. With only two Xu Fengnian figures present, even with all their ingenious tactics, it was ultimately neither enough to witness nor enough to fight.

Xu Fengnian looked up to see the sky above Wang Xianzhi's position. Winds swirled and clouds billowed, large masses of colored clouds rapidly converging, like immortals unfurling a vast piece of brocade. Among the precious teachings recorded by the Daoist Elixir Cultivation sect, there is a saying, "Three Flowers Gathering at the Peak, Five Qi Returning to the Origin," but the current scene clearly far exceeded that realm. An ancient sage, who was both a wine immortal, a literary giant, and a sword master, once left behind the popular lines: "Departing Baidi in the morning amidst colorful clouds, a thousand li to Jiangling is covered in a single day." Later generations often failed to grasp the profound meaning and subtle insights within. Xu Fengnian sighed. Wang Xianzhi, he guessed, could no longer hold back and was preparing to unleash his killing move. After killing, he would open the Heavenly Gate himself, but not to ascend to the Heavenly Court and join the ranks of immortals in one go, but rather to guard the Heavenly Gate as a martial master for the mortal realm.

Xu Fengnian exhaled deeply, still not rushing to merge the external soul beside him with his own body. Instead, he stood firm, concentrating his energy, awaiting Wang Xianzhi's imminent, decisive thunderous strike.

Wang Xianzhi took a breath, and his entire head of frosty white hair instantly turned an indigo color. The robust old man now looked like a man in the prime of his youth.

Xu Fengnian did not bother to admire such mystic arts that transformed decay into wonder. He gently closed his eyes, a purple-gold glow swirling around his face. After inhaling, his sleeves billowed, and he seemed otherworldly and solitary. This was precisely the "ignore the bustling market outside the gate, close the door and windows, and find a tranquil stream and mountain" mantra from the Great Yellow Court scriptures.

Offense and defense, each possessed their unique marvels.

In the blink of an eye, within the ten-zhang distance between Xu Fengnian and Wang Xianzhi, no fewer than twenty tall figures of Wang Xianzhi appeared. Their stances varied slightly, but they fully displayed Wang Xianzhi's rushing, thunderous momentum.

The first time Xu Fengnian was forced back, he retreated a hundred zhang in one breath. Along this hundred-zhang path, nearly a hundred more fleeting figures of Wang Xianzhi continuously appeared.

Xu Fengnian's second retreat, seemingly without any power to retaliate, extended to one hundred and fifty zhang.

As one diminished and the other grew, Wang Xianzhi grew stronger with each blow, his figures becoming more complex. Along a single line, densely packed, stood over two hundred imposing images that had no time to dissipate.

Xu Fengnian, who had been passively taking blows, merely retreated again and again. Relying on Gao Shulu's formidable physique and the Great Yellow Court's philosophy of embracing simplicity, he largely showed no signs of defeat. However, upon closer inspection, the wounds previously pierced by Wang Xianzhi's three-inch lightning, and the red threads and crimson snakes formed by Human Cat Han Diaosi's "dragon fostering" technique, had completely ceased struggling. Yet, the blood, before it could seep from the wounds, evaporated like snow poured into boiling water, turning into a faint mist, making Xu Fengnian's clothes appear remarkably clean.

Wang Xianzhi continued to punch relentlessly. Even though he knew Xu Fengnian's intention was to use external force to refine himself, Wang Xianzhi was supremely arrogant. "Let Xu Fengnian use my fist aura to temper Gao Shulu's physique, which he hasn't fully integrated," he thought, "I can certainly make him suffer. There will always be one punch that becomes the final straw to break the camel's back."

Along the straight line that had cleaved a two-li path on the ground, the "Wang Xianzhi" figures multiplied to countless numbers. Even a master among the Top Ten martial artists, if watching, would likely feel their scalp tingle.

However, if Wang Xianzhi's top disciple, the female boxing master Lin Ya, had been present to witness those attacking Wang Xianzhi figures and observe them closely, she would certainly have gained immense benefit, taking her martial arts further up the hundred-foot pole.

For this was indeed the most profound boxing manual in the world!

Wang Xianzhi launched no fewer than six hundred punches, and Xu Fengnian accepted over six hundred fist auras without resistance. Finally, a turning point arrived: the continuously lengthening retreat distance began to shorten for the first time.

Because Wang Xianzhi's movements were too swift and his attacks too fierce, even though Xu Fengnian had retreated nearly three li, not a single sound had been heard.

Behind the old man, a delayed, echoing boom finally reverberated in the distance.

This was perhaps akin to how people are accustomed to seeing lightning before hearing thunder.

"Enthusiasm wanes after the first effort, and completely disappears after the third" – this is the natural course of things.

However, as the last Wang Xianzhi figure, which had remained in place, began to dissipate, Wang Xianzhi, as if his momentum could not climb endlessly, was like a climber who, after a brief rest, continued his ascent, and furthermore, suddenly quickened his pace. Wang Xianzhi, who had been punching with one hand, now used both hands.

Assuming the posture of "Beating a Great Drum!"

Wang Xianzhi's dual fists struck Xu Fengnian's crossed, blocking arms.

This "drumbeat" strike resounded simultaneously with the belated thunder of fist aura from behind him.

Xu Fengnian's body leaned back, his feet rooted to the ground, sliding backward at an angle.

The second Wang Xianzhi figure from the starting point also began to vanish like smoke, but the true Wang Xianzhi, facing Xu Fengnian, suddenly accelerated. He swung an arm down heavily, striking Xu Fengnian's chest, and with that single punch, he slammed Xu Fengnian entirely into the ground. Then, with a kick, he sent Xu Fengnian, who had bounced back up upon impact, flying another ten-odd zhang.

Xu Fengnian, his body more than a foot above the ground, stretched out his hands, hooking his ten fingers into the sandy earth to halt his retreat.

During his second journey through the martial world, the old man in sheepskin once tempered Xu Fengnian's spirit with no fewer than a hundred "Two-Sleeved Green Snakes" – this was Li Chungang's unique teaching method. Later, after consuming the purple-gold bun from North Mang's Imperial Preceptor Yuan Qingshan, a trade for an item, Xu Fengnian had also allowed Xu Yanbing to tirelessly pound him to digest the purple-gold qi-energy brought by that bun. This clumsy method, far from being a shortcut in martial arts, would undoubtedly lay a solid foundation, provided one could endure it. In the world today, in terms of sheer ferocity, neither Tuoba Pusa's fists and kicks, nor Deng Tai'a's sword or Gu Jiantang's saber, could compare to Wang Xianzhi's punches. Xu Fengnian had, after all, assimilated Gao Shulu's physique for too short a time to fully integrate it as his own. Thus, Wang Xianzhi's assault became the best possible forging.

The forging of every generation of North Liang sabers required countless hammerings and refinements before being brought out of the furnace.

It's done!

As if aided by a deity, Xu Fengnian's wounds instantly healed by seventy to eighty percent. This was the subtle sign that the "heat" had reached its peak.

He slapped the ground with one palm, his body spun up, and he stood once more facing Wang Xianzhi.

Xu Fengnian had been gritting his teeth, bitterly awaiting this moment. And wasn't Wang Xianzhi also "fishing"? If the bait was too small, how could he catch the great fish of the North Sea, known as Kun?

The hundreds of Wang Xianzhi figures simultaneously merged into one, and Xu Fengnian had already begun to charge forward.

Almost simultaneously, the "Xu Fengnian" comprising his one soul and two ethereal souls, who had been standing by, merged with Xu Fengnian, their spirits returning to their body, like a traveler returning home.

If the total distance was ten parts, then Wang Xianzhi charged six parts, while Xu Fengnian covered only four.

Then, both unleashed their full power, one delivering a punch, the other a palm strike.

Setting aside his soul and spirit, this palm strike alone was Xu Fengnian's absolute, ten-tenths martial arts realm.

Wang Xianzhi, too, no longer held back his strength. The foremost martial artist in the world, who hadn't fought with full effort since breaking the Wooden Ox sixty years prior, finally unleashed a punch whose power and qi-energy reached their pinnacle.

Wang Xianzhi's punch landed first on Xu Fengnian's forehead.

Xu Fengnian's palm strike then landed on Wang Xianzhi's chin moments later.

Both their feet simultaneously left the ground.

Then, simultaneously, their qi settled, and they returned to the ground, firmly rooted in place, both adopting stances of absolute refusal to retreat even half a step. Xu Fengnian's head swayed backward slightly, while Wang Xianzhi's head, though not moving, saw a touch of frosty white reappear in his already dark hair.

Neither of them subsequently thought about countering specific moves; they simply focused on attacking. Xu Fengnian was likely resolved to perish together, while Wang Xianzhi preferred to kill a thousand enemies at the cost of eight hundred of his own.

Wang Xianzhi's punches continuously struck Xu Fengnian's forehead, and each time Xu Fengnian's head swayed backward, the amplitude increased. However, the addition of Wang Xianzhi's white hair was less noticeable. More fatally, the old man's hair repeatedly shifted between dark and frosty white, unlike Xu Fengnian's unstoppable accumulation of decline.

Both stood in their places, exchanging punches and palm strikes.

Xu Fengnian's forehead was already dented, but Wang Xianzhi was not having an easy time either, with bruises appearing on his face.

Xu Fengnian fought fiercely without retreating. From an initial palm strike with ten-tenths of his qi-energy that he could deliver to Wang Xianzhi, after over sixty exchanges, he was left with only eight-tenths of his strength.

The fierce battle naturally became a fight to the death.

Xu Fengnian transformed his flat, pushing palm strike into a clenched fist punch, which naturally added more than two inches to his attack range.

In their struggle of full power, even such a small calculation had become extremely precious to Xu Fengnian.

In the end, Xu Fengnian even had to change his fist to an outstretched hand-knife, otherwise, he would not be able to hit Wang Xianzhi.

If it were any other opponent, Xu Fengnian, whose cultivation was already enough to rank among the top three in the world, and who had learned a variety of martial arts, could naturally wield a sword with unmatched fluidity, use a saber with overwhelming momentum, and fight bare-handed with casual grace. Why would he be so "penny-pinching" and petty as he was now?

Wang Xianzhi, from beginning to end, only threw punches.

Above the heads of the two celestial beings, the colored clouds indeed roiled and churned, gathering and dispersing unpredictably.

When Xu Fengnian's last hand-knife strike only managed to graze Wang Xianzhi with its fingertips, a cold sneer appeared at the corner of Wang Xianzhi's mouth.

An arrow at the end of its flight, a dying struggle!

The old man's battle in Liang did not begin as a fight to the death. Instead, it progressed incrementally: first, half a bowl of water, then eight-tenths of a cup of tea, and finally, a full measure of intoxicating wine.

But even tipsy, it was not a complete loss of control.

Wang Xianzhi's momentum was already at its peak, yet as Xu Fengnian's head swayed back in a semi-circular arc, the old man surprisingly managed to gather even more vigor.

One final punch!

"With eleven-tenths of my essence, qi, and spirit, I'll send you on your way, making this old man's last battle in the mortal world truly worthwhile!"

Xu Fengnian, indeed at the end of his tether, no longer delivered hand-knife strikes. Instead, he resorted to a desperate measure, gathering his remaining qi-energy and abruptly lunging forward with his head, actively meeting Wang Xianzhi's punch.

Xu Fengnian was sent flying backward by the punch, his entire face appearing like a porcelain object about to shatter but not yet, crisscrossed with terrifying cracks.

Not just his face, his entire body suffered a similarly tragic fate.

After being struck, Wang Xianzhi also fared poorly, his steps light and unsteady, staggering backward.

His punching arm hung limp, already fractured.

Just as his body was about to fall, Xu Fengnian smiled.

In an instant, the person of no worries, neither far nor near, hurled a Shattering Spear!

Wang Xiaoping's sword, unleashed after his death, had pierced through Wang Xianzhi's body.

This spear, following that very trajectory, precisely pierced Wang Xianzhi's unavoidable chest once again!

The Shattering Spear passed through Wang Xianzhi's massive body, its tip embedding into the ground, sticking obliquely into the earth.

Wang Xianzhi was carried backward by the spear's "long rainbow piercing the sun" momentum, flying backward. But unlike Xu Fengnian, who heavily crashed to the ground raising yellow sand, the old man abruptly halted when his back touched the earth, hovering eerily in the air, then slowly stood up.

Wang Xianzhi, expressionless, watched the second "Xu Fengnian" with one soul and two ethereal souls in the distance hastily return to its body. Yet, he still could not stop countless trickles of blood from seeping out of the cracks in his own body.

Those who should die cannot die; those who wish to live cannot live.

Blood soaked his robes and stained the yellow sand of the earth crimson.

Xu Fengnian lay there in a pool of blood.

The dying young North Liang King's vision blurred as he stared blankly at the sky.

Xu Fengnian closed his eyes, his soul and ethereal souls scattering and drifting out, including Gao Shulu's physique, all slowly moving towards Huang Longshi and Miss Hehe.

He only hoped that this last bit of cultivation could save the life of the foolish girl who always liked carrying sunflowers.

Wang Xianzhi finally spoke, "Do you have any last wishes?"

Xu Fengnian, his qi-energy fading, did not speak.

Before descending Wudang, he had already completed his arrangements. North Liang held a puppet "Xu Fengnian" resembling himself. Even if he were to die in this battle, North Liang, without its true Xu Fengnian, would still have a North Liang King.

This way, as long as the Xu family's banner remained standing, the morale of the North Liang army would endure, preventing them from being instantly routed by North Mang's million iron cavalry.

The Central Plains might, perhaps, see the smoke of war a little later.