Porter's Immortal Cultivation: I Have Level 5 Full Inscriptions

From the sky.

Beside the dock, on a flat open space near the bamboo pole with the flag hanging, a hundred or so men were divided into two groups, fighting fiercely, their heads surging.

One side must defend its flag and safeguard the fruits of victory, while the other side must seize the flag to wash away the shame once again.

It was like two waves of people colliding, creating countless splashes.

Countless shadows of carrying poles danced in the air, accompanied by curses, shouts, and the dull thuds of people being hit—a deafening cacophony.

in the crowd.

Holding a carrying pole in both hands, Master Zhu followed behind his own tough-as-nails. He was old and not as strong as he used to be, and being a wise old man, he knew that the front line of the battle was the most intense, so he did not try to take that deadly position.

Li Erhu, his eyes red, stood to Zhu Ye's left. He was usually a bit of a shrew, and he felt frustrated by his inexplicable escape earlier. Now that he had finally vented his anger, he didn't care about money at all.

Stimulated by this scene, I felt my blood boil and wished I could replace the carrying pole in my hand with a knife and a gun.

On the other side was Xiong Shan, guarding the right side of Master Zhu. He was taciturn and didn't talk much, but after hearing about the silver reward, his eyes lit up. In his eyes, the porters opposite him were walking and talking silver coins.

Wang Daniu followed behind the three, charging forward at full speed.

He had been hit on the back with a carrying pole earlier, but fortunately the other party exerted force hastily and didn't hit him squarely. Some pain was radiating to his limbs, so he fell behind. Now, in his excitement, he didn't feel the pain anymore and was shouting and yelling.

Yang Silang stood shoulder to shoulder with him. He knew that his stance training was quite good, but he was not reckless. The first row would be the target of concentrated fire.

He practiced the ox and horse stance, not the martial arts for fighting on the battlefield. Even if he was stronger and had more endurance, he would never think of taking on a group by himself. It would be safer to blend in with the crowd.

After all, even novice marksmen know that positioning is important in team fights; rushing in to greedily deal damage at the first opportunity will only result in them being eliminated.

The money from the Sanshui Association is certainly good, but you need to be alive to spend it properly.

I'll do my part, but I won't risk my life.

A series of crackling sounds followed.

Carrying pole against carrying pole.

The frontline personnel from both sides were thrown into chaos and fell to the ground.

The area near the dock was flat and open, and the two groups of porters didn't bother with any particular formation.

After a brief charge, seven or eight people at the front fell, while those behind continued to rush forward. After a dozen or so breaths, it turned into a chaotic battle where everyone was intertwined.

There were one-on-one fights, and there were two or three people fighting one.

Some had dropped their carrying poles and switched to their fists; there were even two who rolled around on the ground, biting each other.

The ground was covered in blood graffiti, and dust was flying everywhere.

The scene was chaotic.

"Don't scatter, follow Master Zhu!" Yang Silang shouted when he saw this. He thrust out several carrying poles, aiming at people's thighs. With quick eyes and hands, he knocked down several Iron Lever Society porters who rushed over like headless flies.

His success was due to several factors. Firstly, he was blessed with inscriptions, making him quick-witted, fast-moving, and strong. When he exerted his full strength, he was no weaker than a true master. With a single thrust of his carrying pole, he achieved a victory.

On the other hand, we have to thank Master Zhu, Xiong Shan, and Li Erhu. The three of them stood in front of him like a solid wall of flesh, blocking all the damage and allowing him to focus on outputting damage.

Furthermore, most of the tough guys from the Iron Gang Society, like those from the Three Waters Society, were on the front lines, fighting one-on-one. Those who charged in were all tough guys, so they didn't really pose a threat to the small group.

In the chaos, Zhu Ye, Xiong Shan, and Li Erhu didn't care about anything else.

The old man wielded the carrying pole with some skill, but Xiong Shan and Li Erhu, in their excitement, swung the pole wildly, almost hitting their own men. All three of them were hit by the iron bar and the carrying pole a few times, but they didn't care about the pain at the moment.

The three felt as if they had divine assistance, as if one of their own porters was helping them from behind. Long bamboo poles would always appear from behind them, either smashing or lifting, knocking down any porters from the Iron Gang who dared to charge in front of them.

Having withstood the first wave of attack from the other side, Zhu Ye's group of five remained intact and stabilized, which demonstrated the benefits of people from the same hometown sticking together.

Zhu Huxiong was in charge of tanking, Da Niu was in charge of shouting, and Yang Silang unleashed a fierce barrage of attacks from a moment's notice. No one could withstand these three blows.

Those who fight alone cannot withstand their numbers, and those with many people do not have their clear division of labor.

Although Zhu Ye and the others themselves were not clear about the division of labor within this small team, they did indeed deal the highest damage.

In an instant, the five fellow villagers huddled together, waving their carrying poles wildly, seemingly unstoppable, their chaotic antics standing out prominently in the crowd.

On the steps about twenty feet away.

Song, with his squinty eyes, clapped his hands excitedly, "Great! Great!"

"Scatter them!"

Lu, standing on the long table, could see clearly and shouted anxiously.

If they get overturned, the bigger their performance will be, the worse their fall will be.

Amidst the chaotic battle, four members of the Iron Gang Society huddled together, lined up in a row, and viciously pounced on Master Zhu and his group.

A young man with a thick beard, known as "Hard-Legged Ding," was the main force, accompanied by three "Straight-Legged Ding" assistants. Their actions were quite methodical.

"Hey!"

With a roar, the bearded man slammed his carrying pole down hard, producing a piercing whistling sound that demonstrated the force behind it. The other three men pushed forward together, thrusting their carrying poles to force Xiong Shan and Li Erhu back.

Master Zhu cursed inwardly and hurriedly used his carrying pole to block the way.

Clang!

A loud bang.

Master Zhu groaned, feeling a numbness in his arms, as if his tiger's mouth was about to crack. He was no longer as strong as he was in his prime, and knowing that he couldn't win by fighting head-on, he could only take a step back.

Seeing the imposing momentum of the opposing side, Xiong Shan, standing nearby, followed Zhu Ye's retreat with a step back.

Li Erhu, caught up in the moment, gritted his teeth and charged forward, but suddenly a powerful force came from his belt, forcing him to take a few steps back. Only then did he see that his fellow villagers had all been defeated, and his hot blood instantly cooled, so he switched from offense to defense.

The bearded man was in high spirits, swinging his carrying pole with increasing force, creating a whooshing sound as he led his companions to defeat Master Zhu and his men in a series of retreats.

Just then, the bearded young man brought down another carrying pole.

Grandpa Zhu tried to raise the carrying pole to parry again, but he stumbled and suddenly felt his arms were exhausted.

The melee had only lasted for the time it takes to burn an incense stick, but everyone was caught up in the heat of the moment and didn't care about conserving their energy. With red eyes and shouting, they swung the carrying pole wildly with all their might, quickly depleting their strength.

Master Zhu is an experienced porter who knows how to save energy over long distances, but when it comes to explosive power, he can't compete with the younger men. So, by now, he's exhausted.

As the carrying pole came crashing down on his head, he felt a chill run through his body—the porter opposite him was so enraged that he didn't care about vital organs anymore.

This is going to hit you with a carrying pole...

call……

He was in despair.

"Ahhh..."

A figure rushed out from behind him, almost a blur, and screamed loudly.

The speed was so fast that the bearded man on the other side couldn't react in time. He was in a wide-ranging, sweeping motion as he brought down the carrying pole, when the shadow crashed headfirst into his empty chest, knocking him over.

And by sheer coincidence, the hardest bone in the man's forehead darted out and collided with the man's fragile nose amidst his thick beard.

"what……"

The bearded man cried out in pain as his face was bruised and bleeding. You see, the nose is soft and the forehead is hard; when the two collide, blood streamed down his face, and his beard was stained red. He was in so much pain that he let go, not even caring about the carrying pole, and rolled around in agony, clutching his face.

The figure that hit him turned over and it was Wang Daniu. His forehead was red and he looked confused. There was a footprint on his butt. He muttered, "Who kicked me?"

Behind him, Yang Silang withdrew his foot, concealing his merit and fame.

The three—Niu, Hu, and Xiong—blocked the path to rescue, and Da Niu's rear end was the most prominent and perfectly positioned, so he took the opportunity to lightly kick him...

He just didn't expect Wang Daniu's "throwing himself into his arms" posture to be so accurate, knocking the hard hand off his head.

Unexpected changes.

Both sides were dumbfounded.

"Take them down!"

Yang Silang shouted and rushed out, then charged forward, lifting his carrying pole and knocking over another foot soldier.

Xiong Shan and Li Erhu reacted and their momentum increased. Zhu Ye caught his breath and was able to lift the carrying pole again. Together, they knocked down the remaining two Iron Gang members.

Grandpa Zhu was still panting heavily.

Yang Silang pulled him.

"Master Zhu, seize the flag!"

"No one's stopping us now."

"That's five taels of silver!"

Master Zhu looked around and, sure enough, apart from them, the porters from both families were already locked in a fierce battle, exhausted and tied down.

In such a large area, they seemed to be the only group that could move. They were numerous, and they had just built up their momentum, which was when they were at their most ferocious.

His old eyes lit up. Five taels of silver could buy his grandson a powerful medicine, which might help his grandson become a martial artist even faster.

"Capture the flag!"

As Zhu Ye shouted, his beard bristled, saliva splattered, and he trembled all over as he held up the carrying pole.

At that moment, he felt as if he were on a battlefield, transformed into a brave warrior, charging fearlessly.

Xiong Shan and Li Erhu were also infected. As the old porter charged toward the flagpole, Yang Silang pulled up the still somewhat dazed Wang Daniu and followed.

"We can't let them take it back!"

This time, it was Bazi Lü's turn to be so angry that he jumped up and down.

However, the porters of the Iron Gang Society were scattered all over the ground, entangled in a fierce battle with the porters of the Three Waters Society, and neither side could gain the upper hand or spare any manpower.

Occasionally, one or two porters from the Iron Bar Association would try to stop him, but four or five carrying poles would immediately appear around the old man and knock them all over.

He watched helplessly as the old man led a few young men to rush to the flagpole.

The big-headed, thick-bodied, red-browed young man and an ordinary-looking young man formed a human ladder to help the old man up. They ripped down the Iron Bar Association flag and hung the Sanshui Association flag back up from the ground.

"Take it back for me..." he roared angrily.

Then I heard a shout coming from the steps several dozen feet away.

Glancing sideways at Song, another group of more than a dozen porters from the Sanshui Association rushed back. Reinforcements had arrived, and who knew how many more were behind them?

"Retreat quickly..."

Lu Xin was unwilling to give up and had no choice but to order a retreat. He fled to the boat in a disheveled state with his able-bodied men, like drowning dogs.

The porters from Sanshui, swaggering about, chased after the other party, insulted their ancestors for eighteen generations, politely escorted them out of the country, and then detained more than a dozen wounded men who couldn't escape as hostages.

At this moment, many porters surrounded Master Zhu, cheering loudly, which gradually merged into a wave of sound.

"Master Zhu! You're awesome!"

The old man blushed and felt his blood boil, thinking that he could still work for another twenty years.