funbook-pk Chapter 86 A Mist of Destruction, A Bloodthirsty Dragon
Chapter 86 A Mist of Destruction, A Bloodthirsty Dragon
Chapter 86 A Mist of Destruction, A Bloodthirsty Dragon
"Luckily, these four pigs and dogs happen to be in the same place." Lin Zhuo whispered at the bow of the boat.
Hong Yingniang and Cui Xiang, the mistress and servant, knelt in the boat awning. They slightly opened their mouths, their hands freezing as they served tea. Boiling water overflowed from the cups and spilled onto the tea tray, but they were oblivious, their eyes fixed on the painted boat with its roof smashed a few feet away.
Only now did they finally witness Lin Zhuo's martial arts skills.
Hearing Lin Zhuo's words, Hong Yingniang snapped back to reality. She pursed her lips, but couldn't suppress the joy on her face. She was about to say, "Young master, be careful. The four shop owners are unpredictable and not easy to deal with."
But those words only lingered in his throat before he swallowed them.
She turned and gave Cuixiang a wink.
The maid was equally excited and speechless. The tacit understanding between mistress and servant made her immediately understand Hong Yingniang's meaning. She hurriedly went to the depths of the boat awning, rummaged through a wooden box, and took out a simple and old pipa from it. This was a personal item of the flower girls on the boat, which was sold to Lin Zhuo and his party along with this small boat.
Hong Yingniang picked up her pipa and said to Lin Zhuo at the bow of the boat, "This servant will cheer for the young master."
"Wait patiently, someone will be back soon." Lin Zhuo turned his head to the side, his face backlit by the sunlight, pitch black, but his eyes were as bright as cold stars, and the halo between his brows burned like fire.
The little tiger on his shoulder let out a soft growl, and the patterns on its fur swayed and flowed like clouds.
Hongying bowed deeply to show her obedience and whispered, "This servant wishes you, young master, to be invincible."
Lin Zhuo stopped talking nonsense, slightly bent his knees and jumped, his figure suddenly soaring into the air and landing on the painted boat in the river.
Hong Yingniang stepped out of the boat awning, knelt at the bow, held a pipa in her hands, and began to pluck the strings.
On both banks of the Luoying River, in the bustling heart of Anzhou City, peddlers, travelers, merchants, nobles, and the wealthy thronged, hawking their wares by day and reveling by night. But now, a sudden change on the river has instantly drawn a crowd of thousands, their heads craning their necks, peering out, and creating a noisy commotion.
In this world, a struggle between the strong can happen at any time.
The martial arts alliance and local sects are not enough to restrain martial artists from tying their own hands. When they want to fight, kill, or vent their anger and fire, they do it without caring about tomorrow or the future.
This is why ordinary people are always inevitably drawn into sudden battles; when the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer as well, and countless families are struck by misfortune.
However, people in this world have long been accustomed to and fully adapted to this kind of ignorant calamity. Many of them would rather die than not witness a battle between powerful figures. Rather than continue living a numb and muddled life, they would rather watch masters fight until rivers of blood flow, and witness martial artists unleash the most brilliant moments of their lives. That's what life is all about, damn it.
Even the most ruthless and vicious people in the martial arts world, who don't care about the lives of passersby and would readily use them as shields, often intentionally avoid harming onlookers—the reason is simple: they also need witnesses and observers to spread their power and fame.
In such a world of martial arts, any public battle is more or less performative in nature, and uninhibited martial artists and bloodthirsty commoners always complement each other.
Lin Zhuo used the Riding Dragon Treading the Sea Skill, which is an upgraded version of the Shrinking Earth and Leaping Technique. The effects are similar and the principles are similar, but it does not have the amplification and destruction effects of martial arts skills. Instead, it can consume the Hidden Dragon buff to increase movement speed. It focuses on stacking numbers and does not have any fancy tricks.
Therefore, his figure streaked through the air with a dark light, his feet treading on the rolling wind, and he crashed into the painted boat. In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the four unsuspecting demonic sect masters. They didn't even have time to exchange glances or make any reaction.
"Oh dear! I'm terrified!" The servants and disciples of the Huanhuafang scrambled to escape in a panic.
Only Lin Zhuo and the four shop owners remained in the room.
Upon seeing this uninvited guest, even the previously arrogant Tibetan monk Jigme turned pale, his obese expression resembling a frozen block of pork fat.
Fifth Master Han Miaohua's eyes darted around, and she said in a sweet voice, "Could it be the great hero Lin Zhuo, the Grandmaster of the Earth Ranking? I am so fortunate to meet you today, young master. But why make such a big fuss when you come to my pleasure boat as a guest? There must be some misunderstanding—"
"Shut up." Lin Zhuo raised his hand to interrupt, his dark face revealing only a pair of cold eyes glancing at him sideways. "I know perfectly well what kind of person you are. You're a lowly bastard who picks up beggars, steals dolls, and sells children. You deserve to die."
Han Miaohua's delicate face turned ashen with rage. Just as she was about to unleash a torrent of abuse, she heard the Second Master of the brothel, She Yujun, cough lightly. Immediately, she suppressed her anger, forced a smile, and channeled her inner energy to spread her words across the riverbank: "Young master, your words are utterly absurd. My Huanhua Brothel shelters only fallen and lonely women from the brothels; how could we have ever done the sordid things you accuse me of? Aren't you afraid of damaging your chivalry by framing me like this?"
Lin Zhuo merely glanced at her coldly. "You pig-dog, I've spared your life until now not to listen to your rambling excuses. I'll only ask you once: Where is Mo Weiren?"
Upon hearing this, the four demonic cult masters immediately realized that there was no turning back.
Yan Suiyi smiled憨厚ly, clasped his hands in a fist and bowed, "We can't accept such a statement from Master Lin. Although we, Old Yan, have done all sorts of evil deeds, we are still honest people and would never dare to get involved with the Heavenly King of the Demonic Sect."
She Yujun pointed to the Tibetan monk beside her and said, "Hero Lin, why don't you ask this master from the remote western region? He's not with us. He's a guest of Master Han. It's just a coincidence that we're here at the same time."
The Tibetan monk Jinmei turned around and glared at the two men with displeasure, then started grumbling in his tongue. He pulled out a pure gold Eight Treasures Demon-Subduing Pestle from his robes. This was a famous martial arts weapon, luxurious and dazzling, the result of the blood and sweat of countless slaves and craftsmen.
Lin Zhuo remained silent, but simply took the Meteorite Chain Hammer from his waist.
The divine veins manifested, and a powerful surge of energy coursed through the air. The long whip, carrying a whirlwind of dust, transformed into the shape of a dragon, while the hammerhead held a surging mass of energy, uttering a sinister low growl.
With such a posture and such a divine intent, he didn't need to say a word; he had already made his murderous intent crystal clear.
The four men's expressions immediately changed drastically.
Han Miaohua shouted angrily, "Lin Zhuo! Do you really want to merge with my Huanhua Fang?!"
She Yujun shrieked, "Fool, get out of the way!" She then struck out with a palm, sending Han Miaohua flying. The next instant, the Meteor Chain Hammer, wrapped in a terrifying ball of energy, came crashing down, just missing Han Miaohua. It landed on the pear wood floor like a shooting star, splashing up a huge wave that shattered the floor of that level of the ship.
The group descended to the lower level amidst thick dust and wood chips. This place was teeming with elite assassins from Huanhua Fang, all genuine members of the Demonic Sect.
"All you disciples, listen to my command! Follow me and kill this scoundrel!" She Yujun stopped pretending and even used his usual self-reference from within the sect.
Jin Xiaohu arched his back, the patterns on his body flowing continuously, a circle of summoning incantations appeared between his brows, and a king-character seal suddenly appeared at the core. A chilling silver-white aura spread from his body, as if clouds and flames were intertwined. His sharp claws extended, gleaming coldly. His cute cat face was covered by patterns, outlining a ferocious demonic face.
It suddenly leaped off Lin Zhuo's shoulder, flashed into the midst of the demonic sect disciples, and with a single swipe of its claw, it brought forth three dazzling, ink-like blades of light. It cut through soldiers and shattered armor. With a few swipes of its claw, several severed limbs leaped into the air, and several heads fell to the ground in astonishment, with screams and roars filling the air.
Inside the painted boat, the air was instantly filled with the pungent smell of blood and the splashing of crimson. Many beautiful women screamed and ran away, jumping off the boat into the Luoying River. In this late autumn season, the peach blossoms had long since fallen, but today the river was filled with many delicate beauties.
Suddenly, the sound of a pipa rose up.
Hong Yingniang, kneeling at the bow of the small boat, was not highly skilled in martial arts, but she still knew how to use her inner energy. Her plucked strings sounded like metal striking metal, her melody like a surging icy river, and her spirit was as powerful as a thousand soldiers bleeding.
Throughout the land, both within and outside the Yellow River, all who heard the sound were astonished; the listeners felt their hearts surge with heroic passion, their eyes blazing with blood.
"Great music! Great fighting! It would be best if heads rolled and the river turned red!" The people on the riverbank cheered.
"That wretched maidservant, actually using the 'Battle Formation' song that my aunt taught her to cheer on that thieving man?" Han Miaohua had just walked back to the brink of death, her face ashen with fright. Upon hearing this song, she gritted her teeth in fury.
Lin Zhuo ignored the demonic cult soldiers around him and focused only on attacking the four masters in front of him.
He swung the serpent chain hammer.
A more surging force, a more turbulent surge, and an even more irresistible divine might.
The members of the Demonic Sect had all felt this dazzling fighting spirit. In their eyes, this person was like someone who had bound the tail of a true dragon, while the chain hammer was raised in fury and roared in anger, as if trying to struggle to escape, but was firmly held, and could only vent his full of hatred on the insignificant ants in this place.
The least motivated cult members were screaming and collapsing. Han Miaohua, who was not good at fighting, was stiff and unable to move. Even Yu Yujun and Yan Suiyi, who had killed countless people, felt their breathing become labored and their faces turned red.
The only one who could move freely was the Tibetan monk Jinmei.
He held a vajra in his hand and chanted scriptures. His originally dull and ugly face suddenly became solemn and majestic. His eyes were wide open like an ox, and he bared his two rows of teeth, making him look like an angry king in a temple.
This is clearly a unique skill called "Divine Strike," which involves self-hypnosis through profound internal energy, inviting the gods and Buddhas that one has cultivated in one's mind for many years to possess one's body, thereby gaining an extraordinary fighting spirit and will.
There is much to say about this. For example, the deity that Jimei practices is the "Great Wrathful Karmic Fire King" of the Western Demonic Sect. According to the scriptures, he has the supreme courage to destroy evil spirits and exorcise heretics. His body is like Vajra and his strength is boundless.
A Qigong master must be brave enough to imagine things that don't exist, even if they are fake. As long as you convince yourself to wholeheartedly believe in them and continuously refine the details, you can make these fake things affect the effect of your Qi recitation.
The Divine Strike Technique is actually similar to the "Qi Control Method," a must-have skill for Qi Masters on the internet. It can also simultaneously circulate multiple types of true Qi and greatly enhance mental and spiritual defense.
In the martial arts world of "Cangcheng," the two groups most skilled in divine attacks are the Western Great Demonic Cult and various miscellaneous gangs in the southern martial arts world. The former practices Buddhist scriptures, while the latter mostly worship gods and ancestors. However, in terms of inheriting the spirit, the Great Demonic Cult is naturally superior.
At this moment, the Tibetan monk Jinmei had summoned a wrathful deity to possess him, which is why he remained unmoved by Lin Zhuo's terrifying fighting spirit.
"Submit to the heretics! Submit to the heretics!"
It's laughable that the Tibetan monk, who usually doesn't speak the Central Plains language, speaks it fluently when he's possessed by a deity. This shows that he actually knows the Central Plains language, but the hypnosis he experienced while practicing divine martial arts damaged his brain, causing language dysfunction. He can understand it but can't speak it normally.
This audacious demonic master, who truly believed himself to be an all-powerful deity, didn't even bother to test the waters when facing such an opponent, but instead brazenly charged straight at him.
The Eight Treasures Vajra Pestle gathered fierce true energy, and the Tibetan monk's body also emitted a faint golden light, clearly indicating that he was protected by divine power. With one step, he shook the boat from side to side, his majestic presence shining like a radiant light.
However, even the Ming King's fighting spirit, which was enough to frighten even the best martial artists, was not enough to dispel the heavy pressure on his companions' hearts.
Lin Zhuo, his face dark, uttered a cold sentence: "This evil monk deserves to die."
"Heavenly Demon, prepare to die!"
A precious pestle hangs in the sky, and a roaring serpent falls to earth.
At this critical moment, Yu Yujun and Yan Suiyi seized the opportunity to leap forward. The former unleashed a sword shadow from his long sleeves, the cold light directly hitting Lin Zhuo's eyes, illuminating his vision with a blinding white light. The latter, wearing a pair of claw-like hand shields, quietly hooked down on his lower body.
Both of them are Grandmasters, their weapons imbued with divine veins and infused with unparalleled power through their true energy. They must not be allowed to get close to us easily.
Clang! The pipa's fierce sound was immediately drowned out by a deafening roar from the painted boat, like a cliff shattering.
Crowds on both sides of the strait held their breath, wondering about the current state of the battle.
Inside the painted boat.
She Yujun's soft sword was stuck in the ground, and Yan Suiyi's body spun around. When they got close to Lin Zhuo, they were both hit by a powerful force, their attacks missed, and their stances were twisted, leaving them wide open and extremely dangerous.
They quickly shrank back and retreated.
Not far away, Han Miaohua's face was flushed crimson, and a cloud of blood mist floated in the air, turning into red rain that fell in a drizzle, soaking the surrounding demonic sect disciples.
"Master Jinmei—" Han Miaohua trembled, touching the slippery blood on her face.
The Tibetan monk who had been so brazenly attacking Lin Zhuo was now reduced to just two stubs sticking out of the ground, his body and robes having exploded together.
The Eight Treasures Demon-Subduing Pestle transformed into a golden light, pierced through the boat planks, and fell into the river, disappearing without a trace.
The Serpent Chain Hammer remained intact, lazily coiling around Lin Zhuo, the swirling wind around it now tinged with crimson, like a dragon drinking blood.
"Run—run—run fast!!!" The cult master, terrified, screamed in terror.