Retirement begins with summoning Yuan Tiangang

Lin Feng stood there, still not quite in a daze.

Looking at the motionless person on the ground, I suddenly felt a churning in my stomach.

died?

He just...died like that?

He looked down at his hands.

He was still holding the knife, the blade stained with blood, which dripped down the blade, falling drop by drop onto the yellow earth, creating a small, dark patch.

He felt nauseous.

The nausea surged up from his stomach, reaching his throat, but he forced it back down.

No.

You can't vomit.

There are still thirteen on the other side.

He looked up at the bandits.

They've already charged at us.

Two were the first to rush over.

One was tall and the other short; the tall one wielded a thick-backed machete, while the short one used two short daggers.

The two men, one on the left and one on the right, blocked Lin Feng's escape route.

The taller man roared and slashed down with his cleaver, creating a whooshing sound.

The shorter one crouched down and thrust his two daggers straight at Lin Feng's lower back.

Raymond Lam didn't have time to vomit.

He didn't think of anything; his body moved first.

With a flick of his right hand, he raised the short knife and blocked the cleaver with a clang.

The blade trembled violently, and his hand went numb, but he did not retreat.

Using the recoil force, he twisted his waist and threw out his left fist.

Wind-Breaking Fist.

He practiced this set of punches countless times; he could perform it with his eyes closed.

His fist flew like the wind, carrying the weight of his entire body, and slammed hard into the tall bandit's chest.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

The tall bandit's eyes widened suddenly, and he let out a "uh" sound. He was sent flying backward as if he had been hit by a galloping bull, flying one zhang, two zhang, three zhang, before crashing to the ground, rolling twice more, and finally coming to a stop.

He lay on his back, his chest caved in, blood gushing from his mouth. After a few mouthfuls, he stopped moving.

Lin Feng didn't look at him.

He had already turned around to face the shorter one.

The short bandit was about to stab him in the waist, but he didn't expect him to punch his companion away, causing him to pause for a moment.

Just this one moment.

Lin Feng's knife was already slashing down from above.

The short bandit raised his two daggers in terror to parry.

"clang!"

The two daggers flew out of his hands and stuck into the ground three zhang away.

He knelt on the ground, his hands trembling, his tiger's mouth covered in blood.

He looked down at his hands, then looked up at Lin Feng, his lips trembling as if he wanted to say something.

A mouthful of blood gushed out first.

He clutched his chest, collapsed, curled up in a ball, convulsed a few times, and then lay still.

Lin Feng sheathed his sword and stood still.

There was a moment of silence.

The remaining bandits stopped in their tracks and looked at each other in bewilderment.

Two more cuts.

No, the first slash plus a punch, the second slash.

Two died and one was injured.

From the moment the two rushed forward to the moment they fell, it was only a matter of three breaths.

The one-eyed man's face turned ashen.

His single eye was fixed on Lin Feng, the boy reflected in his pupil.

"There are eleven left," Lin Feng said in a low voice, unsure whether he was speaking to them or to himself.

He took a step and walked forward.

It's not "rush". It's "go".

Step by step.

The bandits instinctively took a step back.

"What are you afraid of!" the one-eyed dragon roared.

"He's all alone! We can wear him down with a war of attrition!"

The bandits gritted their teeth and charged forward again.

There are three this time.

Lin Feng went to greet him.

In his mind, the mantra of Wuji Collapse and the moves of Pofeng Fist flashed by like flowing water.

The things he had practiced countless times seemed to come alive at this moment, and he used them naturally, one move at a time.

A cut came from the left.

He dodged to the side and slashed the man's shoulder with his backhand.

The man screamed, the knife slipped from his hand, and he fell to the side.

Another one came from the right.

He kicked the other man in the knee, causing the knee to bend backwards with a crack, and the man fell to the ground howling in pain.

The one wielding the long spear in front of him thrust the tip straight into his chest.

He deflected the spearhead with the blade, then thrust it forward, the blade slicing across the man's thigh, blood spurting out and splattering all over his face.

Hot and fishy.

He didn't wipe it.

Turning around, I was met by two more.

It's as if they have eyes in the back of their heads.

Even though someone was attacking him from behind, he didn't even look, and his body dodged the attack on its own.

While dodging, you can also deliver a counter-attack.

Even though someone was slashing at him from the side while he was entangled with the person in front of him, he managed to sidestep at the crucial moment, letting the knife graz his clothes by the slightest distance.

What happened?

he does not know.

But the knife didn't stop.

The punches didn't stop.

The force of the Wuji Collapse was stacked up layer by layer.

Each punch was heavier than the last, and each slash was heavier than the last.

At first, the bandits could hold their own for a few moves, but later on, they would vomit blood from a single blow and fall to the ground after being stabbed.

boom!

One of the bandits was punched in the face, his nose collapsed, and he fell backward, hitting the back of his head on a rock and lying motionless.

Click!

He cleaved another bandit's knife in two with a single stroke, his momentum undiminished, and struck the man on the shoulder.

The knife went deep into the bone and got stuck.

He kicked the man away, drew his knife, and turned to face the last one.

The man was terrified and turned to run away.

Lin Feng chased after him and slashed him in the back with his knife.

The man fell to the ground, crawled forward two steps, and then stopped moving.

Lin Feng sheathed his sword and stood still.

pant.

He was covered in blood.

Some belong to themselves, but most belong to others.

He looked down at himself; there were two knife wounds on his chest, the skin and flesh were turned inside out, and blood was still seeping out.

My back also hurts; I don't know when or how many times I was hit.

He has a cut on his thigh and walks with a slight limp.

But he was still standing.

He looked up at the one-eyed man.

All around, people lay scattered on the ground.

Eleven.

They all collapsed.

Some were groaning, while others remained motionless.

The one-eyed man stood alone on the opposite side.

His one eye was fixed on Lin Feng, his gaze complex.

There was shock, anger, a hint of fear... and a wild, ferocious rage.

He ripped off his shirt, revealing his upper body.

His body was covered in scars.

Scars from knives, swords, arrows, burns, cuts—densely packed, crisscrossing.

Some have turned white, while others still have a pinkish tinge.

That's proof of his years of living on the edge, the medal that has kept him alive until now.

"Kid," he began, his voice hoarse like sandpaper grinding against a stone.

"You've got some skills."

He picked up the large knife from the ground and slung it over his shoulder.

"Let me see just how capable you really are."

After saying that, he rushed forward.

This charge had a completely different momentum.

Compared to him, those bandits were like wild dogs and wolves.

With each step the one-eyed man took, the ground seemed to tremble.

He brandished the knife in his hand, the wind whistling and the blade flashing, like a whirlwind.

Lin Feng raised his knife to block.

"clang!"

The first knife.

Lin Feng's arm went numb, and he took a step back.

"clang!"

Second knife.

Another step back.

"Clang clang clang clang—"

The one-eyed man slashed seven or eight times in one go.

Each strike was heavy, each strike was deadly.

Lin Feng could only parry; he had no power to retaliate.

He retreated step by step, his arm growing increasingly numb, and blood seeping from the base of his thumb.

A sinister smile appeared on the one-eyed man's face.

"Kid!" he roared as he chopped.

"This day next year will be the anniversary of your death!"

He paused, then his blade flashed even more fiercely: "Those villagers will be with you too! You'll protect them? They can't even protect themselves! After I kill you, I'll slaughter them all! All the men, and the women, hehe!"

Lin Feng's pupils contracted.

A surge of heat rose from my chest; it wasn't fear, it was anger.

He suddenly pushed his knife forward, blocking the one-eyed man's slash.

The two swords clashed, sparks flying everywhere.

He reached out with his left hand and grabbed the blade of the one-eyed man's knife!

The blade was sharp, cutting into my palm, and blood gushed out.

But he didn't let go.

The one-eyed man was stunned.

He tried to pull the knife back with all his might, but found that he couldn't pull it out.

The boy's hand gripped his knife tightly, like an iron clamp.

Blood flowed down his wrist and dripped onto the ground, but he didn't even flinch.

"You..." The one-eyed man's eyes widened.

He gritted his teeth, mustered all his strength, and pulled back sharply.

It twitched.

But the boy simultaneously released his grip.

One-Eyed Dragon couldn't stop in time, and staggered backward, taking several steps back and almost falling.

Just as he staggered, Lin Feng moved.

He took a step forward, and changed his right-hand knife from slashing to stabbing, aiming straight for the one-eyed man's face!

The one-eyed man didn't have time to think; he instinctively raised his sword to block.

"clang!"

The knife blocked it.

But he felt a chill under his ribs.

Looking down, he realized that the boy's foot had somehow kicked his right rib.

But there was a small knife hidden in his foot! The blade wasn't long, but it was completely embedded in his ribs, with only the hilt sticking out.

Blood trickled down the hilt of the knife.

One-Eyed Dragon let out a miserable cry and suddenly struck out with his palm, knocking Lin Feng back.

He staggered back two steps and looked down at his wound.

The knife went in very deep.

He reached out to pull it out, but his hand touched the handle and he pulled it back. He couldn't pull it out yet, because if he did, the bleeding wouldn't stop.

He was panting heavily when he looked up at Lin Feng.

The boy was also panting, covered in blood, but his eyes were frighteningly bright.

He just stood there, holding the knife, staring at him.

The one-eyed man suddenly felt a little dazed.

Is this child really only fourteen or fifteen years old?

He gritted his teeth and pulled a small porcelain bottle from his pocket.

Pulling out the stopper, I poured out a blood-red pill, about the size of a thumb, which emitted a sweet, fishy smell.

Secret Elixir.

He hesitated for a moment, then tilted his head back and swallowed it.

As soon as the pill entered his stomach, a violent power exploded out instantly.

He felt his whole body burning, his blood boiling. The wounds, the gash between his thumb and forefinger, the knife wound under his ribs, made him tremble with pain, but his strength was also surging wildly.

The day after tomorrow, the eighth level...the peak of the eighth level...the ninth level...

He looked up, his eyes now blood red.

"Kid," he began, his voice hoarse as if it came from hell.

"I'm not playing with you anymore."

He walked towards Lin Feng.

One step, two steps, three steps.

With each step he took, his breath surged.

He raised the knife.

Then he paused.

"puff--"

He spat out a mouthful of blood, which splattered on the ground, turning a dark reddish-brown color.

He looked down at the blood spurting from his mouth, his eyes filled with disbelief.

"You...you..."

He pointed at Lin Feng, his finger trembling.

"You...poisoned..."

Lin Feng stood still, quietly watching him.

There was no explanation.

One-Eyed Dragon spat out another mouthful of blood, his knees buckled, and he knelt on the ground.

The knife slipped from his hand and fell to the side with a clatter.

He braced himself with his hands on the ground, struggling to lift his head and look at the boy.

"Actually..." He opened his mouth, blood and foam gushing from the corner of his lips, "Actually, I wanted to be a good person..."

He paused.

"It's a pity... we can't go back..."

He laughed. It was a hideous laugh, his mouth full of blood.

"Karma... ah..."

After saying those three words, he swayed and fell to the ground.

The single eye was still open, looking at the sky.

It stopped moving.

Lin Feng stood there, staring at the corpse.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there.

The wind blew by, carrying the smell of blood.

The sun was setting, turning the village entrance a blood red.

He looked down at his hands.

It's still shaking.

I don't know if it's from being tired or something else.

He took a deep breath and strode toward the fallen bandits.

One by one, finishing them off.

Some were already dead, motionless. Others were still groaning; he stabbed them, and the groans stopped.

Some people pretend to be dead without moving. When he gets close, they suddenly jump up and try to run away. He slashes their legs with a knife, and the person falls to the ground screaming. Then he slashes them a second time.

He patched it up, one cut at a time.

His face was expressionless.

He didn't know why he could be so ruthless.

I was feeling nauseous just now, and my hands were still shaking.

But he knew,

Let's change it.

If he falls, what will these bandits do to him?

I'll kill him with one blow.

That would ruin that woman.

They will kill all those villagers.

If they don't die, then he dies. Then those innocent people die.

There is no third option.

After finishing the last piece, he threw down the knife and leaned against the old locust tree at the village entrance.

My legs were too weak to stand, so I slid down the tree trunk and sat on the ground.

Corpses littered the ground.

They lay scattered haphazardly on the ground. Blood had soaked through the yellow earth, turning it a dark reddish-black color, and it was sticky to the touch.

He leaned there, panting heavily.

My body aches all over. The knife wound on my chest, the injury on my back, the cuts on my legs.

The blood was still flowing, but he couldn't care less.

He just sat there, watching everything unfold before him.

The last rays of the setting sun shone on his face and his body.

He suddenly remembered a few months ago in Hexi Town, when his father was lying under the grape trellis sunbathing. He ran over and asked, "Dad, what's the outside world like?"

His father squinted at him but didn't say anything.

He recalled how Uncle Qinglong patted him on the shoulder and said, "The world is vast, travel more and see more."

he's gone.

I watched it too.

Is this what the martial arts world is like?

Looking at the corpses scattered on the ground, he suddenly felt nauseous.

But I can't spit it out.

He just sat there, leaning against the tree, without moving.

It got dark.

In the village, some people peeked out cautiously.

Seeing the boy sitting under the tree, seeing the corpses all over the ground, some people exclaimed, some cried, and some knelt down and kowtowed.

Lin Feng heard it, but he didn't move.

He just leaned there, watching the stars slowly light up in the night sky.

very tired.

I'm really tired.

He closed his eyes.