Starting with the divine power of the Great Vajra, he traversed the heavens.

Chapter 180 Danger in Ding'an
Lightning flashed and torrential rain poured down!
At that moment, the wind and rain finally began to pour down.

The raindrops were so dense and heavy, it felt like they were being poured over our heads. It was a really heavy rain, and in no time, the ground was already flooded.

It appears to be a once-in-a-century rainstorm.

Ding'an's fiery energy erupted, his entire body glowing crimson, and the rain hissed as it turned into steam and rose up from his body.

Wu Ming had never practiced such skills, so he could not evaporate the rainwater with his heat.

However, his martial arts skills were so strong that he could contend for the title of the best in the world. He also had the ability to control water. With his true energy surging, his clothes were filled with internal force, like steel helmets and armor. Rainwater could not soak into his clothes, and instead dripped down his sleeves to the ground, as if water could not penetrate them.

And so, amidst flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder, the two stood facing each other, the heavy rain like a curtain, the white sky shrouded in mist.

But Ding'an and the old man stood in the rain, and their clothes were surprisingly dry.

The old man stared at the Sword Emperor, whose hair was loose over his shoulders and whose expression was solemn, for a long time before suddenly sighing, "Why are you staring at me?" He glanced at Ding An's prosthetic arm, "Is it because I broke your wooden arm?"

"No!" Ding'an shouted, "All the filth we've suffered along the way is because of you!" His voice was booming and resounded throughout the surrounding area.

As he spoke, his long hair flew wildly in the wind and rain, looking like a raging fire, making him appear even more imposing.

The old man fell silent for a moment after hearing this, and then said quietly, "I thought you would enjoy the thrill of dominating the world and ruling the land."

Upon hearing this, Ding An immediately spat and shouted, "You're a pervert, we're not!"

The short knife suddenly trembled slightly, emitting a captivating hissing sound.

"Heh~!" The old man suddenly chuckled and said, "I thought you were the same kind of people as me. Who would have thought there would be an idiot like you."

Ding An didn't take the insult to heart. Instead, he hooked his finger and laughed, "You old codger, come up here and die!"

A flash of fire, like a tiger's roar and thunder, followed by billowing mist. The short sword vanished in an instant, only to reappear as an arc of light.

There was a loud clang!
A sword-like chain met a hand as white as jade, sparks flew, and energy surged into the air.

The old man shook his head: "The Divine Craft of the Wedding Dress has been renowned for a hundred years, how did it become so barbaric in your hands?"

Ding An shifted his strength, turning the heavy blade into a light one, and laughed, "I'll use it however I want!" He shifted his body to the side and thrust the blade forward.

The old man dared not be careless. Although he was extremely skilled in martial arts, he still felt as if he had been struck by lightning when faced with the attack of the "Wedding Dress Divine Skill," and his blood and qi were churning.

Immediately, he flicked out his fingernails, made a sword-like circle, and with a gentle force, deflected the short knife. With a flick of his fingers, he splashed raindrops into his eyes and then swiftly aimed for Ding An's chest.

Ding'an's vision was obscured by the raindrops, and by the time he regained consciousness, he was already in a dangerous situation.

He roared and slashed repeatedly with his left-hand short sword, his prosthetic arm clashing fiercely with the old man's "finger sword".

With a sharp clang, the dagger deflected to the right, the fingertip grazing the shoulder, leaving a trail of sparking blood.

"What a tough body!" The old man was startled, and his heart sank, sensing something was wrong.

His mind was distracted, so his other hand naturally moved a little slower.

Once Ding'an caught his breath, he flicked his middle finger with his prosthetic hand, and with a buzzing sound, he deflected the old man's "finger knife".

I flicked him on the forehead!

"My darn thing!"

The old man yelled, was thrown back so hard his head was on fire, and fell backward.

But his martial arts skills were so formidable that he only took one step back before stopping, exclaiming in disbelief, "What kind of strange move is that?"

"This one?" Ding An chuckled and raised his prosthetic middle finger, which was trembling, and said proudly, "The cripple said this is called 'A Pool of Spring Water Finger, It Can Dig and Flick, Shamefully Embarrassing'!"

Old man: (￣△￣;)
"You should spend less time with him in the future!"

As he spoke, the old man's hair and beard stood on end, and the rain around him was forced outward by four or five feet as his hands swept over like a whirlwind.

Ding An also deployed both prosthetic arms and short swords to confront them.

The two then used a set of martial arts techniques with their hands. Ding An used the Residual Flame Blade Technique against the Finger Blade; Yi Shen Fist against the Ruyi Orchid Finger. As soon as their hands met, they changed positions dozens of times.

The two men fought as they walked along the mountain path, each striking a vital point on the body with a sharp, resounding blow. Then they focused their attacks on the lower groin, causing both men to bend over.

The onlookers were terrified and dumbfounded.

The two fought with lightning speed, their blades flashing and fire clashing against the iron palm sword energy. The sounds of their collisions were like popping beans, each move a ruthless killing blow. Their path was filled with fire and lightning, trees snapping and crackling as they fell to the ground and burst into flames.

The old man chuckled coldly: "Li Daohuang, your swordsmanship is not bad. But if that's all, then don't blame this old man for taking your head and sending you up the mountain to see Ren Jianshen!"

He reached out and pressed down, and a powerful force surged from his palm, striking the ground. The soil and rainwater were immediately stirred up by the force of his palm and suddenly rose up!

Ding'an was struck by the force and staggered back more than ten steps, crashing into a dense forest.

"Don't run, don't run!" the old man chuckled. "I haven't had enough fun yet!" He lightly tapped his foot.

boom!
A soft cracking sound erupted beneath his feet.

Immediately following, as if in a chain reaction, the large tree in front of him collapsed to the ground with a series of cracking sounds, centered on his feet.

In the blink of an eye, a broad and wide road appeared before us.

Wu Ming was suddenly taken aback.

There was an open space surrounded by large trees, about four or five zhang in diameter, but corpses were strewn everywhere and blood had flowed all over the ground.

The corpses included men and women, monks and Taoists, all decapitated with a single sword strike. Even the old man couldn't help but admire such swordsmanship. Similarly, two people stood opposite them.

One of them was Ding An, but he was pale, had blood at the corner of his mouth, and two sword wounds on his body, making him look quite disheveled.

The other was a tall Taoist priest wearing a bamboo hat and holding a long sword.

The sword gleamed with a cold light, its blade imposing, and its brass hilt had a small tai chi symbol inlaid at the top of the handle—the very mark of Wudang swords.

The Taoist priest was also in poor condition; he had a knife wound in his chest and was panting heavily.

Clearly, they hadn't gained any advantage from their recent fierce battle with Ding'an.

The old man raised his eyebrows, somewhat surprised, and said, "Wudang Mu Daoren, or Old Knife Handle of Ghost Manor?"

The wooden Taoist said in a cold and stern voice, “Wudang is gone. Now it’s just an old knife handle for revenge!”

The old man nodded, then suggested, "How about we work together to kill this Sword Emperor first?"

Master Mu sneered and said, "Your martial arts are extraordinary; you could kill this fiend by yourself. Why would you need me?"

The old man shook his head and sighed, "We need to finish this quickly! If we wait for the Blood-Clad Man or Sword God Ren to arrive, things will get complicated."

Master Mu fell silent. He knew that Hongxiu and Ren Shaoyang were incredibly skilled in martial arts, and their attacks were far more ferocious than the cripple in front of him. If they came looking for him, he would probably be in trouble.

"Alright! We should pick the softest persimmons to squeeze!"

As soon as Mu Daoren finished speaking, his long sword stabbed fiercely towards Ding An's throat!

His sword strike lacked the balance of strength and gentleness characteristic of Wudang martial arts; instead, it was incredibly dangerous and ruthless.

Ding An quickly dodged the incoming sword.

But as soon as the sword was thrust out, the wooden Taoist did not slow down at all, and then launched several more sword strikes, all aimed at his vital points.

Seeing the ruthlessness of his swordsmanship, which was truly unprecedented in his life, Ding'an felt that even Cao Dugong seemed dignified and upright compared to him. So he shouted, "My turn!"

He slashed repeatedly with his short sword, exchanging several blows with a clang.

Just then, the old man pressed forward step by step, unleashing a barrage of unique skills, including the Finger Knife, the Ruyi Orchid Hand, the Seven Killers of Drunken Clouds, the Bone-Melting Palm, and the Great Handprint.

Under the combined attack of the two, Ding An was overwhelmed. Suddenly, he heard a strong gust of wind and his heart skipped a beat. He had no choice but to step aside and dodge.

At this moment, the wooden Taoist thrust his sword at Ding An with a few swift strokes. Ding An groaned in pain as his arms, chest, and thighs were wounded, and blood flowed continuously.

On the other side, the old man chuckled and unleashed several powerful "big handprints" with lightning speed.

Ding Anyi could not stop it; the defense collapsed, and he was so shocked that his bones felt like they were about to break, and the pain was excruciating. His body almost went limp.

"Haha, what a grand title, Blade Emperor!"

The wooden Taoist's lips curled into a sinister smile as he roared incessantly, his sword flashing like the wind.

He deeply resented the "Three Fiends of the Northern Frontier" for destroying Wudang.

Despite the fact that Mu Daoren established "Ghost Manor" and wreaked havoc on the martial arts world, his greatest ambition was to become the leader of Wudang Sect and carry on the tradition of Wudang.

But just a few months ago, the "Three Fiends of the Northern Frontier" destroyed his hopes with their own hands!
Mu Taoist is extremely hateful, angry and resentful!

He resented everything, he was furious with everything!
If it weren't for the "Three Fiends of the Northern Frontier," how could my Wudang sect have been destroyed?

If it weren't for that old bald monk Da Bei, how could Wudang have provoked these three madmen?

If it weren't for this hypocritical and shameless martial arts world, how could he have failed to become the leader of Wudang Sect and ended up as a homeless, wandering ghost?

and so.

On this day, when the three villains and the heroes were locked in a fierce battle, Mu Daoren ran to the mountain path of Shaoshi Mountain and killed all the Shaolin disciples guarding the gunpowder.

He's going to do something, something big!
He wants to blow up the entire Shaoshi Mountain, and he wants all the masters of the martial arts world to be buried with his dream!
So he sent people from Ghost Manor to bring nearly 10,000 catties of gunpowder and bury it.

But just as he had everything ready and was about to light the fire...

Damn it, it's raining torrentially!
This sudden turn of events nearly drove him mad, and he was feeling utterly dejected.

Ding'an actually barged in front of him again!

Life is unpredictable; no one can truly understand what each sip or bite will bring.

With the combined attack of the wooden Taoist and the old man, the power increased exponentially.

Ding'an was caught off guard, his face pale. He managed to block the attack from the left, but he couldn't escape the killing blow from the right flank. He dodged the combo from both sides, but couldn't dodge the rapid attack from below.

Not only is defeat already a certainty, but there is also a risk to their lives.

Another dozen or so moves passed.

Ding'an was covered in dozens of wounds, bleeding profusely, and his clothes were tattered.

Knowing his life was hanging by a thread, he gritted his teeth, biting down hard and licking his teeth until they bled, and thought fiercely, "Fine, fine! At this point, what the hell am I worried about?"

Ding'an listened to Shao Yang and the little beggar the most, and regarded their instructions as the golden rule, but now the moment of truth had come.

He couldn't care about anything else anymore!
(End of this chapter)