Hiss!
As the young man’s voice echoed through the room.
The expressions of the men in the hall, who had been silent until now, changed in an instant.
They had thought the young wolf was just making a final, desperate attempt to save himself. They never imagined the beast’s appetite was this insatiable.
He wasn’t interested in some menial task; he wanted an entire street!
He was simply... courting death.
To the Fierce Wolf, territory was more important than one’s own parents. How could they let an outsider covet it?
Anyone who showed such intentions was signing up for a fight to the death.
Fatty Tian might have been greedy, disloyal, and a coward who bullied the weak, but a single fact overshadowed all these flaws.
He was, after all, a Cultivator at Mid-stage Qi Cultivation. That substantial Cultivation was the true source of his confidence and his place among the Fierce Wolf!
"What is he doing?"
Bai Feng froze for a second, then glanced at Yan Jin beside him. He gritted his teeth, his expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment.
’I told you he was trouble.’
’See? I was right!’
Tian Jingyuan stared intently at that fair face so close to him, his breathing growing heavier, like the rumbling of distant thunder.
’Of course, this damned fox is trying to provoke me. He’s probably hiding some kind of scheme.’
’For instance, he probably got in with the Silk Wolf. That’s how he got that woman to come to the restaurant and issue a warning. Now he wants to use her power to put me in my place at this banquet.’
But with everyone watching, Tian Jingyuan had no way out.
He could lose to Yan Jin.
But this fox must die!
Only then could he defend his already precarious position.
"HEH HEH HEH—"
On the large ironwood chair, his corpulent body began to tremble.
Tian Jingyuan’s fury had reached its peak. He lowered his head, a deep, raspy laugh like a broken gong rumbling from his throat.
In an instant, his face darkened. He rose to his feet like a mountain of flesh, smashing the Cyan Jade Pipe on the table to dust with a single punch.
CRUNCH!
Immense Spiritual Power, so thick it was nearly a tangible Fog, howled as it erupted from him.
A young wolf not far away looked on in shock.
The Ring-headed Saber he was cradling in his arms suddenly hummed and tore free. It flashed through the air with a silver glint and a sharp CLANG, landing perfectly in the hand of the mountain of flesh.
"You want everything, is that it? Then come and take it!"
Tian Jingyuan gripped the hilt and laughed maniacally, swinging the blade over his head. With the force to cleave a mountain, he brought it down ferociously on the slender figure before him.
For Cultivators like them, mastering an Immortal Technique was a matter of chance. It was harder than ascending to the heavens to acquire a complete arsenal of abilities.
Sometimes, they might even have the Inner Spiritual Technique but no corresponding Immortal Technique to execute it.
Therefore, for self-defense, most still retained some of the fighting habits of ordinary mortals.
But even so, and even though Fatty Tian’s mastery of Martial Arts was far inferior to that of a true Martial Artist like Zhang Zhongping...
...the Spiritual Power coating his saber was still something Inner Strength could never hope to match!
The murderous blade arrived in the blink of an eye!
Lin Shu’s smile vanished, a bone-chilling coldness appearing in his calm eyes.
The instant his opponent gripped the saber, his body had already reacted.
His right hand, which had been resting languidly on the back of the chair, tensed in that same instant. Veins bulged as his fingers clamped down like iron pincers!
The hard ironwood chair shot into the air, and with a powerful swing, he smashed it sideways across the face of the mountain of flesh.
CRACK—
The ironwood splintered, sending shards flying through the air.
Tian Jingyuan’s massive body was knocked askew. He staggered back a few steps, his saber strike going wide and slamming into the tabletop.
His face covered in red welts, he instinctively wiped the splinters from his eyelids.
Just as his vision cleared, he saw the figure advancing on him, step by relentless step.
"Rise!"
Staring into the young man’s piercingly clear eyes, Tian Jingyuan suddenly felt a flicker of panic.
He instinctively formed a series of Formulas. The fat all over his body began to roil and contract, solidifying into a smoother wall of flesh.
His Physique still looked enormous, but he appeared much more solid than before.
More importantly, the surface of that fleshy wall was now emitting a faint, jade-like glow.
The Sitting Mountain Formulas. Though it was only a Seventh Grade Immortal Technique, Tian Jingyuan had cultivated it to the Great Success Realm during his bitter days in Magpie’s Nest.
With this Dharma Aspect protecting him, he believed he was, at the very least, invincible.
Master Mo, still in the main seat, had been about to get up and move away, but he paused.
Lin Shu may have seemed to gain a small advantage, but in reality, the moment they clashed, their true depths were more or less exposed.
If Spiritual Power was water, then the thirty wisps of white qi on the young wolf were, at most, a small pond.
Tian Jingyuan’s Spiritual Power, on the other hand, was nearly twice as potent!
With a gap that large, he could simply wear Lin Shu down to death.
As expected, bolstered by his Sitting Mountain Formulas, Tian Jingyuan instantly regained his composure.
He quickly wrenched his saber free, his mind recalling the earnest teachings of Zhang Zhongping. It was a technique from a Grand Martial Artist, now combined with his own immense Spiritual Power.
’There’s no way I can lose!’
At this thought, a savage killing intent twisted his fleshy face. He gripped the saber with both hands and slashed down again in a vicious, unorthodox arc!
The raging Spiritual Power let out a piercing hum.
At that moment, the men in the hall froze, an inexplicable chill washing over them.
Under the dual pressure of Tian Jingyuan’s immense Spiritual Power and his burly frame,
Lin Shu’s robes billowed violently, making him look even more slender, as if he could be knocked away at any second.
Facing the blade head-on, he showed no intention of dodging.
Hiss.
Black qi roiled and surged forth.
The young man raised his arm with a casual air, but his eyes were savage. He then threw his fist forward with brutal force!
BOOM!!
The black qi enveloped his fist and roared out with the punch, accompanied by a soul-stealing wolf’s howl.
The Ring-headed Saber shattered at its center. Half the blade flew off, streaked through the air, and with a THUNK, embedded itself in the ironwood table.
Lin Shu’s fist flew past the Broken Blade, its momentum still ferocious, and slammed directly into Tian Jingyuan’s chest.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The wall of flesh convulsed. The jade-like glow within it shattered like glass, and then the flesh itself was brutally torn apart by the force of the punch.
The Immortal Technique Tian Jingyuan had relied on was shattered with ease, failing to even buy him a single breath’s time.
Master Mo’s judgment might not have been wrong.
In terms of endurance, Lin Shu was indeed much weaker.
But Spiritual Power, in the end, must be channeled through specific techniques to be truly effective.
No matter how thick a block of tofu, it can’t stop a steel blade—and this particular block of tofu wasn’t even all that thick.
Faced with the Gloomy Moon Bone Splitting Hand, which had already reached the Fifth Grade, Fatty Tian had no ability to drag him into a war of attrition.
A fist like a collapsing mountain.
Tian Jingyuan watched helplessly as his own chest was torn apart like a cloth sack. His Spiritual Power was being rapidly depleted just to maintain the fragile Sitting Mountain Formulas.
Excruciating pain flooded his mind. His portly figure staggered backward as he subconsciously tossed aside the Broken Saber and fumbled for a medicinal pill at his waist, trying to stuff it into his mouth.
"Still trying to eat?"
Lin Shu’s hand shot out and clamped over the fatty’s mouth. As Tian Jingyuan watched in terror, Lin Shu’s other hand sank into his flesh.
Then, with a heave of both arms, he flipped the mountain of flesh over his shoulder and slammed him down hard onto the table!
CRASH!
The heavy ironwood table shuddered and cracked, a web of fine fractures spreading rapidly across its surface.
Tian Jingyuan was dizzy, feeling as if his organs had been rearranged. His thick shoulder slammed into the table’s corner with the sickening, muffled crunch of breaking bone.
Like a beached fish, he slid off the table and sat slumped against it, gasping for breath.
Just then, the fatty let out another pained grunt.
With a deadpan expression, Lin Shu raised his boot and stomped hard on his chest, pinning the mountain of flesh, who had been trying to rise, back to the floor.
He casually picked up the Broken Blade, which was only half its original length.
"Don’t!"
The cold glint of the steel stung Tian Jingyuan’s eyes, and his heart clenched in terror.
He scrambled to raise his arms, his palms desperately covering his fleshy jowls and cheeks.
"Be a good boy. Move your hands."
Lin Shu looked down at him, his voice laced with a gentle tone that was inexplicably terrifying. "That’s mine."
Hearing this, Tian Jingyuan froze, his body wracked with tremors.
’Mine? What’s yours?’
’Wait...’ The fatty’s pupils shrank. He suddenly understood.
’He’s talking about... my head!’
The Broken Blade fell.
SPLURT!
A spray of crimson blood splattered across the gleaming ironwood.
Lin Shu ripped the round object free and casually tossed it onto the table.
Thump, thump.
The head, still warm and slick with blood, spun as it rolled across the tabletop.
Tian Jingyuan’s terrified face—eyes wide, mouth agape—rolled slowly into view, its horror reflected in the pupils of everyone in the room.

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