Wuxia: Become the 100-Victory Sword King at the Beginning

Chapter 242. Heroic figures roam the desert, their righteous deeds quelling evil.

Even the galloping warhorses could not escape this terrible fate.

They neighed, their forelegs raised high, but were instantly encased in ice mid-air, frozen in place, becoming lifelike ice sculptures.

Shi Feiyang stood in the center of this world, and suddenly swung his palms, his movements as fast as lightning, leaving everyone breathless.

At this moment, his hands were like two indestructible frost blades, radiating a chilling aura, and hurtling through the air with a whistling sound.

Wherever the palm strikes, the air seems to be cut by an invisible blade, hissing and groaning in pain.

He waved his hands in mid-air, each swing generating a sharp gust of wind that was like a series of sharp scythes, instantly slaying countless Mongol cavalry.

The Mongol cavalrymen who were hit were torn to pieces like broken rag dolls, with limbs and fragments flying everywhere.

Blood splattered everywhere, instantly congealing into droplets in the cold air, like strings of red gems, scattering on the ground and quickly staining the once vibrant grassland red.

Haktu and Batel witnessed this scene and were so frightened that the color drained from their faces instantly, turning them as pale as paper.

Haktu's lips trembled, and his voice trembled as he said, "This...who is this person who possesses such terrifying martial arts!"

Batel swallowed hard and replied, "We've probably been cursed today. If we keep fighting, we'll all lose our lives here!" The two exchanged a glance, understood each other, and hurriedly turned their horses around, trying to escape this terrible battlefield.

However, as soon as they turned around, Lin Wanqing and Bai Zhi blocked their way.

Haktu looked at Lin Wanqing and, seeing her sweet and gentle face and elegant dress, felt contempt for her, assuming she was just a weak woman with no strength to even kill a chicken. He viciously pulled out his serrated knife, its blade covered in sharp serrations that gleamed coldly in the sunlight, exuding a ferocious aura and telling the story of the countless drops of blood it had stained.

He leaped off his horse and pounced on Lin Wanqing like a hungry wolf, shouting, "Little lady, today I'll show you that this grassland isn't a place for you to run wild! Surrender obediently, and maybe I'll spare your life!"

Upon seeing this, Lin Wanqing's eyebrows furrowed, her beautiful eyes flashed with murderous intent, and her gaze revealed a resolute aura.

She calmly and gently drew her longsword. The blade gleamed with a cold light, like a pool of autumn water, exuding a chilling sword aura.

She parted her lips slightly and said coldly, "Ignorant madman, today I will make you pay the price for your arrogance!" After saying that, she used the "Longevity Sword Technique". The sword wind seemed gentle, like a spring breeze, but it concealed a sharp killing intent.

Each thrust of the sword carried a lively aura, the sword shadows flashing and dazzling the eyes.

Haktu brandished his serrated knife, attempting to parry Lin Wanqing's swordsmanship, but found that she skillfully dodged his attacks each time, which secretly surprised him. As he parried, he exclaimed, "You little wench, you actually have such skill!"

Lin Wanqing snorted coldly, "Hmph, today is your death day!" The attack of her long sword became even more fierce.

At the same time, Batel, wielding a serrated knife, lunged at Bai Zhi.

Bai Zhi wore a Miao costume embroidered with strange patterns that seemed to contain a mysterious power. Her eyes were firm, and she held a spiked silver stick in her hand. The silver stick gleamed coldly in the sunlight, and the spikes were like fangs, exuding a chilling aura.

She shouted, "You scoundrel, prepare to die!" and unleashed the "Mingquan Staff Technique," the staff flashing and whistling through the air.

Each swing of the silver staff produced a "whoosh" sound, like a mountain spring rushing down with great force.

Batel brandished his serrated knife and engaged in a fierce battle with Bai Zhi. The two exchanged blows, neither giving an inch.

Dust filled the air, and the sounds of clashing weapons echoed incessantly.

Shi Feiyang roamed freely between heaven and earth, moving with overwhelming force as he continued to weave through the remaining Mongol cavalry.

His figure was like a white light, and wherever he went, the enemy and bandits fell one after another.

In an instant, limbs and severed bodies lay strewn across the grassland, blood gushing forth and forming crimson streams that, under the scorching sun, exuded a nauseating stench of blood. The stench permeated the air, making one want to vomit, as if it were a living hell.

At this moment, Shi Feiyang's eyes flashed like lightning, instantly locking onto Yuan Yebi, the leader of the "Seven Skills Heart-Locking Sword".

He turned around, like a beam of light piercing the sky, and flew towards Yuan Yebi with unstoppable momentum.

The sunlight fell on him, outlining his tall and straight figure.

Yuan Yebi was at the core of the battle, surrounded by a chilling aura.

He moved his hands rapidly, manipulating the seven swords that had been forged in the same furnace.

Under his control, the seven swords gleamed with a cold light, like seven agile ice snakes, forming a strangely shaped steel shackle that tightly bound Wu Zhong and Xiao Lingling in the center.

Within the sword formation, sword energy crisscrossed, emitting a buzzing shriek.

The sound was like countless vengeful ghosts wailing in the deepest hell, sending chills down one's spine. The surrounding air was also distorted and vibrated by this sharp sword energy, and wisps of air seemed to scatter and fly in all directions as if they were real, cutting through everything around them.

Wu Zhong and Xiao Lingling were in dire straits. Their clothes were tattered and torn into strips by the sword energy, fluttering in the wind like withered leaves falling in late autumn. Their bodies were covered in bloodstains, and blood seeped from their wounds, staining their clothes red. They looked extremely disheveled and their lives hung by a thread.

Wu Zhongqiang took a deep breath and channeled his internal energy from the "Six Harmonies True Scripture" to try and withstand the pressure of the sword formation. However, the surging sword energy continued to assault his protective true energy like a tidal wave. Xiao Lingling gritted her teeth and wielded her twin swords with impenetrable skill, but she could only barely defend herself. Sweat mixed with blood streamed down her face.

Like a burning meteor, Shi Feiyang, accompanied by a biting cold wind, charged into the sword formation with overwhelming force.

He activated the Bright Jade Skill, and in an instant, his body shone with a warm, jade-like luster, as if he were enveloped in a gentle moonlight.

True energy surged continuously from his body, forming a powerful vortex, like an invisible black hole, radiating a chilling suction force, as if it wanted to draw the entire world into it.

The vortex swept around the enemy's sword formation with overwhelming force, drawing in the surrounding sand, stones, and withered grass, which spun wildly around it.

Shi Feiyang's expression was cold and stern, his eyes piercing as if he could see through all illusions. He shouted loudly to Wu Zhong and Xiao Lingling, "Brother Wu, Sister Xiao, leave this place to me! Quickly go and aid Elder Liao. Lu Ling's 'Seven Injury Fist' is extremely vicious, and Elder Liao may not be able to withstand it alone. This Yuan Yebi has committed many evils, and today is his retribution. The wheel of karma turns, and cause and effect are inescapable. I will definitely rid the martial world of this scourge!"

His voice was like a booming bell, its rolling waves echoing across the battlefield, carrying a reassuring power that could dispel the gloom in everyone's hearts. As soon as he finished speaking, Shi Feiyang's palms moved rapidly, each movement generating a gust of wind, like a hurricane rising from the ground.

His palms were like two incomparably sharp frost blades, radiating a chilling aura. Wherever they went, the air seemed to freeze, condensing into ice shards that fell down in a flurry.

He unleashed the "Golden Dragon Coiling Claws" move from the "Hundred Victories Blade Technique," his blade intent soaring and his palm shadows flying, each move containing immense power, as if capable of cutting through space itself.

Within his palm shadow, a golden dragon seemed to appear and disappear, baring its fangs and claws, and rushing towards Yuan Yebi with earth-shattering power.

Upon seeing this, Yuan Yebi was greatly alarmed, and his face instantly turned ashen.

Knowing the power of Shi Feiyang's attack, he hurriedly manipulated the seven swords, attempting to block the fierce attack.

Under his command, the seven swords flashed, their shadows overlapping like a silver curtain, forming an impenetrable sword net that pierced towards Shi Feiyang. Wherever the sword net passed, deep trenches were carved into the ground, and billowing dust rose.

Shi Feiyang snorted coldly, his figure moving like a ghost, weaving freely through the sword net. His figure was like a phantom of light and shadow, elusive and hard to grasp. His steps were light and agile, like a peerless master who could leave no trace on snow.

He seized the opportunity and struck out with a palm, hitting one of the swords squarely.

With a crisp "crack," the sword was shattered by Shi Feiyang's palm strike, just like a fragile, withered branch.

The broken sword drew an arc in the air with a sharp whistling sound, and with a "thud," it pierced the chest of one of Yuan Yebi's disciples.

The disciple's eyes widened, his face filled with terror and disbelief. He spat out a mouthful of blood and his body slowly fell to the ground like a kite with a broken string, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Seeing this, Yuan Yebi became increasingly flustered, but as a sect leader, he quickly regained his composure and controlled the remaining six swords, attacking Shi Feiyang at an even faster speed. He chanted incantations and unleashed the killing move of the "Seven Skills Locking Heart Sword." The six swords shone brightly, their sword energy weaving into an even tighter net that enveloped Shi Feiyang.

Shi Feiyang remained calm and composed. He turned around, his palms moving even faster, the wind from his palms whistling and distorting the surrounding air. The sand and gravel on the ground were whipped up by this powerful palm force, forming small sandstorms.

He unleashed the "Seven Steps of the Dragon's Claw" technique, his steps steady and powerful. Each step seemed to shatter the void, producing a dull sound and carrying a powerful pressure, causing the entire earth to tremble beneath his feet.

As he attacked, he cursed, "Yuan Yebi, you villain, you've been committing all sorts of evil deeds in the martial world. Today is your death day. In this martial world, good and evil will eventually be rewarded. The cycle of justice is inescapable. You shall die!"

As Shi Feiyang pressed closer, Yuan Yebi gradually found himself unable to hold on. His forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, and a hint of fear appeared in his eyes. His swordsmanship began to show flaws, and his movements became sluggish.

Seizing Yuan Yebi's opening, Shi Feiyang leaped into the air, his figure resembling a soaring eagle, his palms striking down with immense force towards Yuan Yebi's head. Yuan Yebi tried to dodge, but found himself already locked in place by the vortex of true energy formed by Shi Feiyang's Mingyu Gong, unable to move an inch.

He stared wide-eyed in terror and let out a desperate scream.

Shi Feiyang's palms slammed heavily onto Yuan Yebi's body. With a "crack," Yuan Yebi's body exploded like a broken sandbag. Blood and internal organs splattered everywhere, creating a gruesome scene. The surrounding disciples turned pale with fright at the sight, some even vomiting.

Shi Feiyang landed calmly, his gaze fixed firmly on the other side.

Yuan Yebi and his disciples, who were engaged in a fierce battle with the disciples of the Xiong Ying Society, caught a glimpse of their sect leader Yuan Yebi's miserable end out of the corner of their eyes. They were instantly terrified, their faces turning ashen, and fear spread across their expressions.

Everyone gasped; the sound was like a cold wind penetrating to the bone, carrying an endless chill.

They knew the situation was hopeless; if they didn't flee now, they would surely lose their lives. Immediately, they used every trick in the book to escape, their panicked state resembling that of startled birds, scattering in all directions and raising clouds of dust.

Shi Feiyang landed gracefully like an eagle, his posture steady and his expression cold and calm.

His white robes fluttered in the wind, as if all the world's troubles were irrelevant to him. The bloody battle just now seemed like a gentle breeze to him, leaving no ripple in his resolute heart.

He slightly raised his hand and gently shook it, causing the blood on his hand to splatter. The crimson drops of blood, illuminated by the sunlight, resembled dazzling rubies, tracing striking arcs, or like blood-red flowers blooming in the wind, both poignant and beautiful.

Immediately afterward, his gaze sharpened like lightning, instantly locking onto Ling Zhuang, a master from Miao territory. His figure blurred, like a beam of light tearing through the sky, carrying a fierce gust of wind, as he swiftly pounced towards Ling Zhuang at a speed so fast it was impossible to follow.

At this moment, Ling Zhuang was dressed in a Miao costume embroidered with strange patterns. Under the sunlight, the patterns seemed to be infused with mysterious power, shimmering with an eerie light, and whispering an ancient and evil curse.

He was unleashing the incredibly poisonous "Seven-Finger Technique," his fingers moving rapidly like the tongues of a nimble snake, their tips gleaming with an eerie light, seemingly flickering deadly tongues. Each flick brought forth a thick cloud of black poisonous mist.

The poisonous fog seemed to have a life of its own, spreading outwards. Wherever it went, the air seemed to be corroded by strong acid, emitting a hissing sound that sent chills down one's spine. The green grass on the ground withered instantly under the corrosive influence of the poisonous fog, turning into black ash and revealing a desolate scene.

"Divine Archer" Miao Menlong and "Plum Blossom Dart" Shan Zhi were already in dire straits under Ling Zhuang's strange and vicious poison finger attacks, and were frantically trying to catch their breath. Miao Menlong's quiver was empty, with only a few arrows left, swaying slightly in the wind, looking so frail.

Shan Zhi's plum blossom darts were almost all gone; his dart pouch hung deflated at his waist, like a punctured bladder. The two stood back to back, clinging tightly to each other, their eyes filled with anxiety and helplessness, like a lone boat struggling in a storm.

As Miao Menlong strained to draw his bow and nock an arrow, the bowstring taut as if pulled to its fullest extent, making a creaking sound, he shouted, "This villain's poison skills are incredibly wicked; he's probably going to die here today! But the heroes of our Xiong Ying Society, even in death, cannot lose their integrity!" His voice was firm and powerful, echoing between heaven and earth, revealing an indomitable will.

Dan Zhi gritted his teeth, a resolute glint in his eyes, and retorted, "What's there to be afraid of! Let's fight this villain to the death! Even if we die, we'll drag him down to hell with us!" With that, he mustered all his strength and hurled several plum blossom darts. The darts flashed and whistled sharply as they hurtled towards Ling Zhuang. However, Ling Zhuang moved like a ghost, like a wisp of smoke, easily dodging the attacks, a mocking sneer on his face. That sneer was a scornful laugh at their overestimation of their own abilities.

Seeing this, Shi Feiyang said loudly, "Brother Miao, Brother Shan, do not panic! The path of the martial world is inherently rugged and full of thorns. Today, this villain has committed many evil deeds, and his calamity has come. Watch how I break his evil poisonous skills and rid the martial world of this scourge!" His voice was like a great bell, echoing between heaven and earth, exuding a reassuring power that dispelled the gloom in everyone's hearts.

Before he finished speaking, he had already rushed to Ling Zhuang like a silver meteor. Shi Feiyang activated the Bright Jade Skill, and in an instant, a layer of warm and jade-like luster appeared around his body, as if he were shrouded in a layer of soft moonlight, emitting a faint halo.

True energy surged continuously from his body, forming an invisible yet indestructible barrier that kept the oncoming poisonous fog out. The poisonous fog vanished instantly upon touching the barrier.

He unleashed a move from the "Hundred Victories Blade Technique," "Raging Sea and Surging Waves," his palms moving rapidly, the palm shadows flying, each move containing immense power, as if capable of turning the world upside down. The palm wind howled, like sharp longswords sweeping towards Ling Zhuang, carving deep trenches into the ground wherever it went.

When Ling Zhuang saw Shi Feiyang coming with a fierce momentum, he was startled. However, as a Miao expert who had been through many battles, he immediately calmed himself down and quickly moved his hands to unleash the killing move of "Seven Cultivation Finger".

His fingertips gleamed with a ghostly light, carrying a deadly venom, like countless venomous snakes stabbing towards Shi Feiyang's vital points.

A suffocating sense of danger filled the air.

Shi Feiyang snorted coldly, his figure moving like a ghost, weaving freely through Ling Zhuang's finger shadows. His figure was like a phantom of light and shadow, elusive and unpredictable.

His steps were light and agile, like a peerless master treading on snow without leaving a trace. Seizing the opportunity, he struck out with a powerful palm, hitting Ling Zhuang's right arm squarely. A crisp "crack" resounded, like a thunderclap, as Ling Zhuang's right arm was shattered by Shi Feiyang's palm strike. Ling Zhuang screamed in agony, his voice shrill and desperate, his face contorted with pain and terror. Blood gushed from his severed arm like a red fountain, instantly staining his Miao robes crimson, making them appear even more gruesome against the backdrop of their strange patterns.

"You...you villain, how dare you hurt me!" Ling Zhuang said through gritted teeth, his voice filled with anger and resentment.

Shi Feiyang's expression was cold and his eyes were piercing as he replied, "You villain, you have committed countless evil deeds in the martial world. Today is your retribution. In this martial world, justice may be delayed, but it will never be absent. Prepare to die!"

After saying that, Shi Feiyang once again swung his palms, bringing a fierce palm wind, like an angry lion, and attacked Ling Zhuang.

Despite the excruciating pain of losing his arm, Ling Zhuang stubbornly resisted, mustering a burst of inner energy to continue unleashing the vicious "Seven Cultivation Finger" with his left hand.

His left hand fingers twisted like snakes, gleaming with a black, poisonous light, desperately trying to find a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation and withstand Shi Feiyang's overwhelming offensive. But his breathing was already disordered, and the true energy in his meridians was chaotic and disordered, like a candle flickering in the wind. Under Shi Feiyang's fierce attack, he was nothing more than a cornered beast fighting desperately, and gradually his strength began to wane.

Shi Feiyang's eyes were like lightning, locking onto Ling Zhuang's every move. He spotted an opening and, like an eagle swooping down on a rabbit, leaped up suddenly.

His figure was agile and graceful, his clothes fluttering, like a celestial being descending to earth. His palms, imbued with immense power and an invincible aura, slammed down towards Ling Zhuang's head. The wind from his palms howled, like a hurricane rising from the ground, causing the surrounding air to rumble and shake.

Ling Zhuang stared wide-eyed in terror, his eyes filled with despair. He tried to dodge, but found that his body was firmly locked by Shi Feiyang's powerful Mingyu Gong. His whole body seemed to be bound by an invisible shackle, unable to move an inch.

He let out a shrill, desperate scream that pierced the sky, like the mournful cry of a night owl.

Immediately afterward, Shi Feiyang's palms landed heavily on Ling Zhuang's body. With a crisp "crack," Ling Zhuang's body instantly exploded like a tattered sack. Blood splattered everywhere, internal organs flew out and spilled onto the ground, crimson bloodstains spread across the yellow sand, and the stench of blood permeated the surroundings. The scene was extremely gruesome and unbearable to look at.

Shi Feiyang landed steadily, his clothes fluttering gently in the wind, his expression as calm as an ancient pool in the deep mountains, without any ripples.

The thrilling battle he had just experienced was nothing more than a routine practice session for him, something to be taken lightly and not worth mentioning.

However, his gaze was as sharp as an eagle's, instantly locking onto his next target—Ma Xiang, a top disciple of the Kongtong School.

With a light touch of his toes on the ground, he rose up like a white cloud or a dazzling white light, carrying an indomitable momentum, and leaped out again, so fast that he left a whistling sound behind him.

At this moment, Ma Xiang was unleashing the unpredictable "Seven Severances and Seven Destructions Heartbreak Palm".

His figure moved like a ghost, darting back and forth in the battle. With each movement, he left a faint afterimage, dazzling and elusive to the eye.

As he waved his hand, the palm shadows overlapped, like layers of surging dark clouds, and a sinister and terrifying aura filled the air.

Wherever the palm shadow touched, the grass and trees withered, and black palm prints faintly appeared on the ground, exuding endless evil energy.

Lie Quan, an elder of the Xiong Ying Society and known as the "Qiankun Blade," was already struggling against Ma Xiang's fierce and unpredictable palm strikes.

He gripped the Qiankun Blade tightly with both hands, the blade gleaming with a cold, clear light.

Lie Quan brandished his knife with all his might, the blade flashing, but he could not withstand the surging palm shadows of Ma Xiang.

Lie Quan's forehead was covered with fine beads of sweat, which slid down his resolute cheeks. His back was already soaked with sweat, and his clothes clung tightly to his body, outlining his tired yet still stubbornly resisting figure.

His eyes revealed tension and anxiety. He swung the Qiankun Blade more and more rapidly, the blade whistling through the air, but he still couldn't break through Ma Xiang's iron-clad palm defense.

Like a dazzling shooting star, Shi Feiyang charged into the battle with brilliant light and overwhelming momentum.

He stood tall and elegant, like a jade tree standing against the wind, and shouted loudly, "Ma Xiang, you villain, you have committed many evil deeds in the martial world, and your sins are heinous. Today is your death day! The martial world should be a place where chivalrous people uphold justice, but you have turned your back on the righteous path and used such sinister and vicious martial arts to hurt people. Your crimes are unforgivable and cannot be tolerated by Heaven!"

His voice was like a booming bell, echoing between heaven and earth, carrying a righteous majesty that seemed to dispel all darkness in the world.

Seeing this, Ma Xiang snorted coldly, his laughter tinged with a chilling resentment, and said, "Shi Feiyang, today I will make you and Lie Quan lose your lives here, and see what you can do!" With that, he moved his hands rapidly, unleashing the killing move "Seven Severances and Seven Absolutes Heartbreak Palm". His palm shadows were like surging dark clouds, carrying an aura that covered the sky and pressed down on Shi Feiyang.

Amidst the shadows of the palms, faint, mournful cries could be heard, as if countless wronged souls were screaming, sending chills down one's spine.

Shi Feiyang's expression was cold and stern, yet he was still dashing. He activated the Mingyu Gong, and in an instant, a layer of warm and jade-like luster emanated from his body, just like a fairy shrouded in moonlight, radiating a soft and holy light.

True energy surged continuously from his body, forming an invisible yet indestructible barrier that kept the sinister palm strike at bay. The palm strike hit the barrier, producing a dull thud, like thunder exploding in one's ears.

Shi Feiyang unleashed the ultimate move of the "Hundred Victories Blade Technique," "Slaying the Mortal World." His palms moved rapidly like two frost-covered blades, their shadows flying. Every move contained immense power, as if it could annihilate all the dust in the world.

The palm strikes were like sharp swords, sweeping towards the horse. Wherever they went, the air hissed as they were cut, leaving deep palm marks on the ground.

The two instantly engaged in battle. Shi Feiyang's palm techniques were fierce and ruthless. Each swing brought a powerful gust of wind, as if it could flatten the surrounding mountains and rivers and tear everything apart.

His movements were agile and his steps were graceful, like a dragon soaring in the sky, displaying a dashing and unrestrained demeanor.

Ma Xiang's palm techniques are unpredictable and unpredictable, with numerous palm shadows that are difficult to defend against.

His figure flickered erratically under Shi Feiyang's palm strikes, like a wisp of black smoke, impossible to catch.

Their figures moved swiftly between heaven and earth, sometimes intersecting, sometimes separating. Each collision produced a dull sound, causing heaven and earth to tremble.

The sand and gravel on the ground were shaken apart by the powerful internal force, flying everywhere like a small sandstorm that blotted out the sky.

As Shi Feiyang made his move, he said, "Ma Xiang, your palm technique, though ruthless and insidious, is nothing more than a child's play in my eyes. Today, I, Shi, will act on behalf of Heaven and rid the martial world of this scourge!"

His voice was firm and powerful, exuding confidence and pride.

Ma Xiang gritted his teeth and replied, "Hmph, how arrogant! Watch how I kill you today, and show you the power of Ma Xiang!" With that, he unleashed a move called "Heart-Severing Palm," the palm force like an invisible yet incredibly sharp blade, carrying a chilling aura, aimed straight at Shi Feiyang's heart.

Shi Feiyang dodged the fierce attack with a swift movement, like a nimble swallow.

His figure was light and graceful, his movements elegant, as if he were dancing.

At the same time, he suddenly struck out with his palm, hitting Ma Xiang squarely on the shoulder.

With a crisp "crack," Ma Xiang's shoulder was shattered by Shi Feiyang's palm strike.

Ma Xiang let out a miserable scream, his voice filled with pain and terror. His face was contorted in agony, and he staggered back a few steps. "You...you..." Ma Xiang roared, his eyes filled with rage and resentment.

Shi Feiyang's expression was cold, yet he remained elegant, replying, "This is the price you pay for your evil deeds. In this martial world, good and evil will ultimately be rewarded. You shall die!"

Having said that, Shi Feiyang once again swung his palms, unleashing a fierce palm wind, like an enraged lion, attacking Ma Zheng. His figure was like a beautiful painting, exceptionally dazzling in this blood-soaked world. Shi Feiyang's eyes were like lightning, firmly locked onto Ma Zheng's panicked figure. In this ever-changing battle, he seemed like a god who controlled life and death.

Seizing the slight opening revealed by Ma Zheng, Shi Feiyang leaped up with agile movements, like an eagle swooping down on a rabbit, carrying an indomitable momentum. His white robes fluttered wildly in the wind, making him appear like an immortal descending to earth, his body radiating a warm, jade-like luster—a manifestation of the Mingyu Gong being practiced to its fullest extent.

His palms slowly rose, yet they seemed to bear the weight of a thousand pounds, as if they could shake the heavens and the earth.

With boundless power, the two palms slammed down towards Ma Xiang's head. The wind from the palms howled, like a hurricane rising from the ground, shaking the surrounding air and causing sand and stones on the ground to be swept up and fly everywhere.

Ma Xiang stared wide-eyed in terror, his eyes filled with despair.

He tried to dodge, but was shocked to find that his body had already been firmly locked by Shi Feiyang's powerful Mingyu Gong, as if his whole body was bound by an invisible and tough shackle, unable to move an inch.

He opened his mouth, wanting to shout, but it was as if his throat was being choked, and he could only let out a weak whimper.

Immediately afterwards, Shi Feiyang's palms landed heavily on Ma Xiang's body, and a crisp "crack" was heard. The sound was muffled and terrifying, like a death knell from hell.

Ma Liu's body instantly burst open like a tattered sack. Blood splattered everywhere, like blooming crimson flowers, and his internal organs flew out and scattered on the ground. Crimson bloodstains spread rapidly across the yellow sand, and the stench of blood permeated the surroundings. The scene was extremely gruesome.

Lu Ling, a top disciple of the Kongtong Sect, usually roams the martial arts world with unbridled arrogance, looking down on everyone as if no one in the world can defeat him.

But at this moment, he was so frightened by the unparalleled divine power displayed by Shi Feiyang that his legs went weak. His eyes were wide open, filled with terror and disbelief, as if he had seen the most incredible sight in the world.

His lips trembled, like fallen leaves in the autumn wind, but he couldn't utter a sound.

His body trembled slightly, and his former imposing manner had vanished without a trace.

The Mongol cavalry leader, Haktu, whose originally robust and sturdy body was now trembling incessantly, as if he were being sieved.

His face instantly turned deathly pale, devoid of any color, as if all the life force had been drained from him.

Large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, dripping onto the yellow sand beneath his feet and disappearing instantly. His eyes were filled with boundless fear, as if he were seeing a demon from hell.

Batel was the same; his legs were slightly bent, and his hands unconsciously gripped the hilt of his knife, but his trembling hands betrayed his inner panic. The three of them looked at Shi Feiyang as if they were seeing a demon from hell, their souls trembling with fear, knowing that if they did not flee for their lives today, they would surely lose their lives.

"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" Haktu finally came to his senses and shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice trembling with despair, as if it were the last cry he could utter in this hopeless situation.

Without the slightest hesitation, the three turned and leaped onto their horses, their movements hurried and frantic.

They spurred the horse hard on its belly, and the warhorse, in pain, let out a long neigh and galloped away into the distance like an arrow released from a bow.

The horse's hooves kicked up clouds of yellow dust, and it quickly disappeared from everyone's sight.

They arrived with over ten thousand cavalry, their imposing presence seemingly capable of crushing everything. Now, only the three of them remain, fleeing in utter disarray, a stark contrast to their earlier triumph.

When the Xiong Ying Society disciples saw the enemy fleeing, they were stunned for a moment, and then burst into deafening cheers.

"We have won!" "The Grand Master is mighty!" The shouts rose and fell, echoing across the grassland for a long time.

The crowd brandished their weapons, some raising long knives high, others wielding swords with great force, their faces beaming with the joy of victory. Their smiles were as radiant and dazzling as flowers blooming in spring.

They embraced each other, celebrating. Some patted each other's shoulders excitedly, while others held each other tightly. At that moment, all their fatigue and pain disappeared.

Shi Feiyang looked at his cheering disciples and smiled slightly. His smile was warm and full of power, just like the warm sun in spring.

He said, “The path of the martial world is inherently rugged and full of thorns. Today’s victory is just a small peak on our long journey. But as long as we brothers are of one mind and uphold the spirit of chivalry, we can overcome all the difficulties and obstacles in this world and create a chivalrous world that belongs to us.”

His voice was deep and powerful, like a resounding bell, echoing across the grassland, making the disciples' blood boil even more and injecting them with a powerful force.

Afterwards, the disciples began to get busy.

They skillfully chopped the horse meat, which was tender and juicy, emitting an enticing aroma under the sunlight.

Shi Feiyang took out seasonings such as oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and wine from the deerskin bag at his waist, which was invisible to ordinary people.

He stood tall and straight, like a jade tree standing in the wind, and said loudly, "Brothers, today's victory is entirely due to everyone's concerted efforts and shared hatred of the enemy. Let's drink together to celebrate this hard-won victory with this fragrant horse meat and fine wine!"

The disciples responded enthusiastically, and cheers rang out once again.

Soon, bonfires rose across the grassland, their flames blazing and casting a red glow on everyone's faces. Horse meat sizzled over the fire, its fat dripping onto the flames with a sizzling sound, filling the entire grassland with a fragrant aroma.

The disciples sat around the campfire, enjoying the fragrant horse meat and fine wine, their laughter filling the air.

"This horse meat is so delicious!" a young disciple mumbled between bites, his face full of satisfaction.

"That's right, thanks to the Grand Master, we were able to enjoy this delicious food and achieve a great victory today," another disciple chimed in, his eyes filled with admiration for Shi Feiyang. As they ate, they recalled the fierce battle they had just fought, their hearts brimming with pride.

(End of this chapter)