The God of the Human Realm!

Chapter 12 True Strength
"Want to know how much of my skill I've kept hidden? You'll find out soon enough."

Yang Erhu twisted his neck, making a crisp 'crack' sound, and then loosened his hands and feet, his voice flat.

Although his face was weathered and lined with wrinkles, and he was over fifty years old, he stood there like an iron tower, rooted to the ground. His broad and muscular back made his coarse cloth shorts bulge, and his surging power seemed to be about to burst out of his clothes.

"As for you, junior brother, you've been in the army all these years, your kung fu must have improved a lot."

Yang Erhu clasped his hands together, his calm eyes turning sharp as a blade as he stared directly at Wu Duxiong.

"The White Scale Guard is indeed full of skilled fighters, but the methods used in the military are different from those used by martial artists. Junior Brother is waiting for Senior Brother to assess him."

Wu Duxiong chuckled, met Yang Erhu's gaze without fear, and clasped his hands in a salute.

At the edge of the training ground, Yang Lie was no longer in the mood to lie down. He jumped up and stared intently at the two people in the arena.

Hong Yuan also held his breath, his eyes fixed on the scene, waiting for the showdown between the two brothers to begin.

Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong approached each other, and their four fists collided in mid-air.

next moment.

Yang Erhu suddenly exhaled and roared, his voice like a tiger emerging from the mountains, echoing across the wilderness.

Even Yang Lie, standing outside the arena, was startled by the roar and grimaced, patting his ears. If it were an ordinary person in front of him, they would probably be terrified and turn into a helpless little rabbit.

Before the roar had even faded, Yang Erhu thrust his clasped fists forward, smashing them into Wu Duxiong's face like a collapsing mountain.

"Old Yang, you have no sportsmanship!"

Wu Duxiong cursed under his breath, but reacted quickly, turning his head to dodge. He didn't choose to avoid the attack, but instead swayed his shoulder, crashing into Yang Erhu's chest like a collapsing wall.

Yang Erhu snorted, withdrew his fists, slightly shifted his body, and suddenly extended his right arm into a steel whip, lashing it fiercely towards Wu Duxiong's temple.

Whoops!

Even before the 'steel whip' arrived, the fierce gust of wind it brought with it forced Wu Duxiong's hair to stand on end and his eyes to narrow slightly.

Wu Duxiong lowered his waist and sat on the horse, let out a shout, and quickly stretched his left arm across.

boom!
The two men's arms collided with a powerful, unadorned force, causing a sharp, trembling pain that made their faces twitch before regaining their composure.

The two men blocked each other with their arms, neither willing to separate, like two old children, locked in a power struggle.

In the blink of an eye, the veins on his arms were bulging, and the muscles were coiled like small snakes.

"Junior brother, does it hurt a lot? If it hurts, just cry out. I've watched you grow up, and I even helped you put on your open-crotch pants. I won't laugh at you," Yang Erhu said with a forced smile.

"Hehe! Junior brother, I'm strong and vigorous, this little bit of strength can't even warm me up. On the other hand, old Yang, you're all old bones, you probably pee seven or eight times a night, right? If you can't take it anymore, just admit defeat, don't break your bones..."

Wu Duxiong was also all smiles.

"Bullshit! Seven or eight times? I've only ever done this a maximum..."

"At most how many times?"

Bang bang bang!
Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong separated instantly, their faces flushed red as if a surge of heat rose within them. Their four fists became afterimages, and in an instant, it seemed as if there were eight fists, sixteen fists intertwined, with continuous sounds of collision.

The two figures moved swiftly, their steps steady and powerful, causing the blue bricks on the ground to tremble and dust and gravel to fly everywhere.

Yang Lie and Hong Yuan were both dazzled by what they saw.

'His speed and reaction time are both very fast, and his strength is also immense...'

Hong Yuan looked serious, guessing that even if he were to suffer the consequences, he would definitely not fare well.

Moreover, judging from the postures of Yang Erhu and Wu Duxiong, they were clearly holding back and had not yet gone all out.

After all, it was just a friendly spar between brothers; how could they really kill each other?
If it were a truly lethal move, Wu Duxiong, honed in the military, would be most skilled in swordsmanship, not in hand-to-hand combat with Yang Erhu.

This round of rapid attacks between the two sides lasted only a few breaths, completely unlike the dozens or hundreds of rounds of fighting depicted in historical novels. Hong Yuan, who had experienced battles before, also knew very well that in a real fight, life and death could be decided in an instant.

Another explosion rang out as arms collided, and Yang and Wu flashed to different positions.

The two men steadied themselves, landing firmly on their feet without swaying or shaking, their hands clasped behind their backs, displaying the demeanor of masters.

Unfortunately, Hong Yuan, standing outside the arena, saw it all clearly. He saw that the two men's hands, which were behind their backs, were open, red and purple, and even trembling slightly.

Hong Yuan's lips twitched. He thought the battle was about to end, but Wu Duxiong took a breath, his chest and abdomen bulged, and he suddenly leaped forward. He was as fast as an arrow released from a bow. In one step, he rushed in front of Yang Erhu, his hands spread out and "swish swish" in the air, turning into two sharp claws.

With ten fingers like hooks, the claws moved in a series of strikes, viciously grabbing at Yang Erhu's face, throat, chest, and abdomen. The attack was fierce, each move aimed directly at vital points.

Yang Erhu was startled. Wu Duxiong's attack was too fierce and too fast. He had no choice but to retreat, his feet 'stepping' as he retreated!

Wu Duxiong stomped his feet repeatedly, his claws pressing closer and closer, like a fierce falcon eyeing its prey, biting down and refusing to give up. No matter how much Yang Erhu retreated, he would press forward.

In the blink of an eye, Yang Erhu had retreated several feet, only to suddenly stop behind him as he was stopped by a jujube wood stake.

However, he was the owner of the martial arts school, and he knew every tree and blade of grass in the training ground like the back of his hand. Even if he didn't have eyes in the back of his head, he would have known the location of the wooden stakes long ago.

He had anticipated that he would be able to brace himself against the wooden stake. When Wu Duxiong's claws came at him, he suddenly stopped and sprang to his feet, then spread his arms wide and leaped up like a bird.

Wu Duxiong's claws swept past his feet, scratching the wooden stake and leaving several scratch marks.

Yang Erhu landed steadily on a wooden stake five or six feet high with one foot. Without pausing, he did a somersault and jumped down, landing behind Wu Duxiong. He let out a low shout and struck out with his right hand.

The palm strike seemed to tear through the air, causing Wu Duxiong's back to hunch and his scalp to tingle. He spun around like a top and landed behind the wooden stake.

With a resounding "crack," Yang Erhu's fierce palm strike landed firmly on the wooden stake, causing the entire stake to tremble violently and splinters of wood to scatter like rain.

The wooden stakes ultimately failed to rise from the ground.

After delivering that palm strike, Yang Erhu deflated like a punctured balloon, his face turning red and then pale, sweat streaming down his forehead. He stood motionless in front of the wooden stake.

Wu Duxiong emerged from behind the wooden stake, watching Yang Erhu's changing expression. After two or three breaths, Yang Erhu finally let out a long breath, as if he had recovered from exhaustion. He sighed, "I'm getting old after all, and my strength is failing. If I were young... no, even ten years ago, it wouldn't have been so easy for you to dodge this palm strike."

Wu Duxiong didn't refute, but instead laughed and said, "If I don't dodge, are you trying to kill me, Old Yang?"

"Hmph! You've honed your skills for so many years, and if you can't even dodge this one palm strike, you won't live long in the martial world. You might as well die by my hand to save your sect from disgracing your sect."

Yang Lie had somehow already brought his medicine box and rushed into the arena, taking out some blood-activating and stasis-removing medicine from the box to apply to Yang Erhu's palms.

Wu Duxiong didn't sit idle either; he took some medicine and applied it himself.

Hong Yuan also stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the jujube wood stake driven into the ground, his expression solemn.

The jujube wood stake, as thick as a thigh, had several gaps in the part where Yang Erhu had struck it with his palm. Splinters were protruding from the broken ends, and debris was still falling.

Although it's far from being broken, it's already quite astonishing.

It should be known that this jujube wood stake is inherently tough and hard. Even a strong man would have to put in a lot of effort to chop such a thick jujube wood stake with an axe. Yet Yang Erhu was able to crack part of it with a single palm strike. This strength really surprised Hong Yuan.

In movies and TV shows, superheroes wreak havoc, destroying cities and collapsing buildings. In novels, emperors wage war, obliterating all the myriad paths of the universe. Hong Yuan isn't shocked, because that's all fiction.

Now that Yang Erhu had shattered the jujube wood stake with a single palm strike, Hong Yuan couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions.

This is something he actually saw.

Running his hand over the splintered wood at the break, feeling its hard texture, Hong Yuan couldn't help but ask, "Senior Yang, is this true strength?"

……

　I posted the wrong thing earlier, there's another chapter coming...

　　
　
(End of this chapter)