Ten years of dormancy: Starting as a martial arts master at the pinnacle

The young man surnamed Yang looked to be in his early twenties, but his abilities were extraordinary.

His hands looked very strange.

One of his hands was blood red, as if it had been soaked in blood.

The other hand was jet black. It looked as if it had been coated with a venom made from tens of thousands of different poisons.

Xiao Yang took a stance and faced the Beggars' Sect's grandmasters and elders without flinching.

"Junior, Yang Potian. I've come to learn from your skills."

"The bloody handprint, Yang Potian!"

Hearing this name, it wasn't just the Beggars' Sect's top experts who were impressed.

The martial arts figures present were all stunned.

There are many powerful grandmasters in the martial arts world, but few are famous for their palm techniques.

Yang Potian, the man with the bloody handprint, is one of them.

Before Chen Changfeng of the Beggars' Sect emerged, Yang Potian with the Blood Handprint was even qualified to compete for the title of the number one palm striker in the world.

Fist and palm techniques are inseparable.

Masters who dislike using weapons usually make their name with fist techniques, rarely with palm techniques.

Although the Blood Handprint is not authentic, it is still a genuine palm technique.

Some even say he is one of the strongest under the Free and Unfettered.

Moreover, this person's origins are very mysterious, and no one knows which sect he comes from.

Unexpectedly, the infamous Blood Handprint reappeared in the martial arts world and became Chen Changfeng's underling.

Even apprentices!

The Beggars' Sect's grandmasters looked at each other.

No matter which one of them goes on stage, they have no chance of winning against Yang Potian with the Blood Handprint.

The Beggars' Sect has a considerable number of Grandmasters, and their strength is not bad.

After all, in their environment, who among them could advance to the Grandmaster level without being a veteran of countless battles?

The more fights you do, the stronger you become.

But compared to the Blood Handprint, their strength is far inferior.

One-on-one is definitely out of the question, but two against one is possible.

But in this situation, when they go to fight Chen Changfeng's underlings, it takes two against one.

Even if these people don't care about their own reputation.

Several thousand heroes from various sects and factions arrived at the scene, and they won by overwhelming the enemy with numbers.

It doesn't prove anything.

"I never expected the renowned Blood Handprint to become a disciple of Young Master Chen. Congratulations! I am but a humble old man; may I, Young Hero Yang, learn from your skills?"

Mr. Bai Futong's behavior was quite obvious.

He called Yang Potian "Young Hero," but he was actually called the fake Chen Changfeng, and always referred to him as "Young Master."

This actually indirectly reveals the identities of the two people.

Although Yang Potian didn't have a good reputation, his methods were too ruthless, and he was also quite vindictive.

But in the end, he was still a man of the martial arts world.

This fake Chen Changfeng was completely different; even Bai Futong didn't acknowledge his identity as a江湖人 (jianghu person).

That's all.

Neither the fake Chen Changfeng nor Bai Futong himself would actually utter such a statement.

"Junior, I humbly request your guidance!"

Faced with thousands of martial arts heroes, Yang Potian showed no mercy.

All the people saw was a red blur that instantly struck Bai Futong.

Bai Futong, whose hair and beard were both white and had grown to his navel, moved with remarkable speed.

As the red light approached, he quickly retreated.

He wielded an iron cane so skillfully that water could not penetrate it and needles could not pierce it.

No matter how the red shadow flew up and down, it could not enter the domain formed by the iron staff.

"This Grandmaster of the Beggars' Sect is truly formidable!"

"How could he hold his own against Yang Potian?"

The gap between Grandmasters is also very large, and Yang Potian is basically one of the most outstanding Grandmasters.

The fact that Bai Futong was able to fight him to a standstill proves this.

This 102-year-old gentleman also possesses top-tier Grandmaster-level strength.

Given the depth and influence of the Beggars' Sect, it's hard to imagine that such a person could exist.

Moreover, the more the two fought, the less the young and strong Yang Potian had the upper hand.

Although he was young and strong, Bai Futong's internal energy cultivation made his breath even more profound.

The longer the two fought, the greater the effect of his nearly 100 years of internal energy would be.

So much so that after a dozen or so moves, Bai Futong, wielding his iron crutch, turned the tables and took the initiative. He shifted from primarily defensive to primarily offensive.

The fake Chen Changfeng, dressed in tattered rags, suddenly let out a cold laugh.

"waste!"

These two words were like a strong medicine to Yang Potian.

In a defensive posture, he also used his other hand.

"puff!"

A black handprint was left on the iron crutch, and black smoke rose from Bai Futong's iron staff.

"poisonous!"

Although everyone had a premonition when they saw the other party's black palm.

Now that they've seen it with their own eyes, they've finally given up hope.

Yang Potian, indeed, cultivated the Poison Palm technique.

Although his realm did not improve, his strength increased considerably.

Especially that poisonous paw; if you were to touch it even slightly, you would probably die on the spot.

Bai Futong wielded his iron crutch like an iron bucket, maintaining his previously unassailable position.

But he soon discovered that his movements seemed to be getting slower and slower, while his opponent's movements were getting faster and faster.

"Poisoned?"

I clearly didn't touch that black hand, and I didn't even get close to the red hand, so how could I be poisoned?

Suddenly remembering something, Bai Fu used his iron staff to withstand two blows from Yang Potian, his body retreating continuously.

"The younger generation is truly formidable! I, an old man, have lost!"

The rising white smoke was also full of toxins.

Although the toxicity was not strong, Bai Futong's movements became noticeably slower after he inhaled it.

Continuing to fight would serve no purpose other than resulting in death.

As a beggar with little dignity or face.

Bai Futong chose the path most advantageous to him: to admit defeat directly and preserve his dignity.

"You're too kind!"

Yang Potian stood with his hands behind his back, looking quite arrogant, and seemed to have the air of a master.

"Is there any other master from the Beggars' Sect who would like to offer their guidance? I will certainly be happy to oblige."

Bai Futong's displayed strength left the remaining dozen or so Grandmasters of the Beggars' Sect completely stunned.

They couldn't even beat Bai Futong, let alone deal with Yang Potian.

Faced with that bloody handprint and poisonous palm.

One wrong move and they could lose their lives here.

"If none of you seniors have any objections, then from this day forward, my master, the great hero Chen Changfeng, shall be the leader of the Beggars' Sect."

It seems rather hasty.

But that's how things are in the martial arts world. When the Beggars' Sect chooses its leader, the first thing to consider is his or her identity.

Only members of the Beggars' Sect are eligible to participate.

Before this, Chen Changfeng had already been tacitly accepted as a member of the Beggars' Sect.

He is now the strongest, and no one dares to challenge him.

Then he should naturally be the leader of the Beggars' Sect.

After that, if he is deemed unworthy of his position, or is deposed for other reasons.

Only then will everyone elect a new leader.

In the selection of the new gang leader, strength is still the top priority.

The entire place was silent for four or five breaths, just as Yang Potian was about to announce that the gang leader had successfully taken over.

A clear voice suddenly rang out.

"Wait!"

……