I Have the Martial Arts Heavenly Eye in the Storm Riders

"Give me back my son's life!!"

The Fist God's eyes were filled with blood, and he let out a heart-wrenching howl as he looked up to the sky.

The deafening roar was like the wailing of ten thousand ghosts, so powerful that the withered branches and leaves on the ancient trees around them trembled and fell off in a rustling sound.

His figure suddenly rose from the ground, towering like a collapsing mountain of flesh, carrying a violent aura that could crush everything, and he charged towards Nie Feng without regard for anything else.

With each step a pair of giant, millstone-like feet took on the scorched earth, the island trembled violently, creating deep, cracked pits over a foot deep.

Nie Feng held the Demon Blade upside down, standing as lifelessly as a pine tree in the pool of sticky blood.

His thick black hair danced wildly in the gale like snakes, and his scarlet demonic eyes between his brows showed not a trace of human emotion, only an unfathomable coldness and bloodthirsty killing intent.

In the terrifying vision of the Senluo Demon Eye, the Fist God charging towards them had already shed his skin and transformed into a black cloud of malevolent energy burning to its boiling point.

That was the most succulent and unparalleled prey that the Demon Blade had encountered since it entered the world!

"kill!"

Nie Feng let out a low growl that sounded inhuman from deep within his throat.

Before he could finish speaking, his slender figure had already completely transformed into a severed phantom.

Wind God Leg - Strong Grass in the Wind!

The Wind God Leg technique was already an unparalleled movement technique known for its lightness and speed, but now, driven by the frenzied demonic energy of the Avici Hell, it became so fast that even its afterimages were nowhere to be found.

In the void, a chilling, blood-freezing blade of light easily tore through the heavy night like lightning striking from the heavens, aiming straight for the Fist God's throat.

"roll!!"

Without even blinking, the Fist God relied entirely on his beast-like martial arts intuition to deliver a powerful counter-punch like a meteor.

This punch abandons all complicated and fancy feints, and is a return to simplicity, fusing pure and extreme destructive power with brutal speed into one.

The fierce and unparalleled fist wind howled and roared, actually creating a series of thunderous air explosions around the fist's energy field.

"clang!"

The peerless divine sword and the heavy fist of flesh collided with a deafening clang of metal against metal echoing across the earth.

Nie Feng's tiger's mouth went numb, and he felt an overwhelming, irresistible force rebounding from the blade.

His ghostly figure involuntarily slid back several feet in mid-air before dissipating the domineering force of the punch.

On the bare fist peak of the Fist God, which was as hard as the black iron of the overturned sea, only a shallow white mark was cleaved by the Snow Drinking Blade, without even a drop of blood spilling out.

"What a hard fist!"

Bu Jingyun, who was standing not far away, suddenly narrowed his eyes.

He knew all too well just how brutal the blade energy in the hands of the demon-possessed Nie Feng had become. This peerless madman could actually withstand the Snow Drinking Blade, the coldest blade in the world, with his bare fists. The sheer terror of his physical training was truly astonishing.

"Die! We're all going to die!!"

The Fist God failed to turn the murderer into mincemeat with his first strike, and the pain of losing his son burned even more fiercely within him.

His arms swung wildly like a windmill, and the terrifying barrage of punches instantly transformed into a sky full of meteors, bombarding Nie Feng's location relentlessly.

Each punch contained the unparalleled power to shatter mountains and cleave rivers.

Nie Feng showed no fear, his figure as elusive as a gentle breeze, weaving and darting through the gaps in the impenetrable shadows of deathly fists.

The Snow Drinking Blade in his palm completely abandoned any so-called moves or routines, transforming into streaks of beautiful yet chilling light, each strike aimed at the vital points of the Fist God.

One is to temper one's fists and bones to an unparalleled strength capable of uprooting mountains and rivers; the other is to let one's blade fall into an eerie and unparalleled speed of ghostly speed.

The two engaged in a fierce, close-quarters battle, truly like needles clashing against wheat awns.

All that could be heard was a series of muffled thuds, like a dense drumbeat, as the overflowing, violent energy shattered the surroundings into pieces.

Amidst the flying sand and stones, towering ancient trees within a radius of several hundred feet, requiring several people to encircle, were all shredded into large and small wood chips and dust in the aftershocks of this inhuman battle.

Wuming stood against the wind, a trace of solemnity flashing quickly across his eyes, which seemed to have seen through the world's illusions.

With his keen insight and legendary martial arts background, he naturally saw through it all:

Although Nie Feng had fallen into demonic possession, for some unknown reason, his power seemed to be greatly damaged and his internal energy was slightly unstable.

On the other hand, the Fist God's domineering fist intent, astonishing and extraordinary, was like a tiger released from its cage, his arrogance at its peak.

If it weren't for the loss of his only son causing this madman to lose his usual rigorous technique and resort to brute force, Nie Feng, with his clearly weakened foundation, would have already shown signs of defeat within a few exchanges.

As expected, after a prolonged and unresolved battle, the raging fire of fury simmering within the Fist God's chest completely spiraled out of control.

"Aaaaaah!!"

He suddenly planted his feet firmly on the ground, stopping his frantic pursuit.

He clenched his fists tightly, raised his disfigured face, and let out a mournful, piercing howl at the night sky.

The raging true energy that had been suppressed by chains within his body for many years suddenly went berserk like boiling, churning magma, creating a visible, violent shockwave around his imposing body.

"You little bastard! Take this!!"

The Fist God's pupils widened, the corners of his eyes being torn apart by the violent true energy, and crimson blood trickled down his chiseled cheeks, making him look like a hideous corpse demon crawling out of hell.

He ignored everything around him, his legs slightly apart, firmly planted in a horse stance like a doorway.

The right arm slowly pulls back, and the heavy fist sinks deeply into the waist.

This seemingly slow stretching motion made the Fist God resemble a powerful bow being stretched to the brink of collapse, accumulating a terrifying death intent capable of shooting down the sun.

As the bow was drawn to its fullest extent, a desperate act of defiance, the air within a radius of several meters seemed to be sucked away in an instant.

A terrifying and desperate sense of oppression, almost suffocating, descended upon us like an avalanche from the Nine Deaths Snow Mountain.

"Oh no! Retreat immediately!!"

The nameless man, who had been watching from the sidelines with his hands behind his back, suddenly changed his expression and let out a clear whistle.

Before he finished speaking, the right fist of the Fist God, which was resting at his waist, slammed out with the power to destroy the world!

Punch the Void!

This punch was delivered without a deafening roar of energy, nor with a flurry of complex fist shadows covering the sky and the ground.

In that instant, the world seemed to lose all color, leaving only this pitch-black iron fist that had fallen like an ancient star.

That invisible and intangible, yet all-pervasive, terrifying fist intent crashed down like a collapsing nine layers of the heavens.

The void in its path was twisted and cracked by this domineering and unparalleled pure monstrous force, which burst out in a series of terrifying hissing sounds that made people's teeth ache and their livers tremble.

Nie Feng, who was in the lead, suddenly froze.

Under the relentless lock of this domineering fist intent capable of annihilating all living beings, his once arrogant Wind God Leg Technique became as sluggish and hesitant as if it had fallen into a bottomless swamp.

The extremely cold and absolute formless Snow Drinking Blade Qi was suppressed like a candle flickering in a storm, almost collapsing.

There's no escaping it, no stopping it!

This is the ultimate killing move that makes the Fist God so arrogant in Japan. It ignores all techniques and rules with his pure and powerful physical body, and is domineering and desperate.

"Junior Brother Feng!!"

Just as life and death hung in the balance, a deafening thunderclap resounded through the sky.

Bu Jingyun's figure transformed into a streak of fierce black lightning, cutting into the seemingly inescapable predicament without hesitation, his palms as hard as iron, firmly pressing against Nie Feng's churning back.

Ghost Tiger glided along the ground like a ghost, his old and withered hand slamming down on Bu Jingyun's broad shoulder.

The three top masters channeled their life's unparalleled inner strength into one breath, creating a thick, abyss-like barrier of true energy in mid-air, bracing themselves to meet the world-destroying fist energy pouring down from the sky.

"boom--!!"

Two awe-inspiring forces collided violently, and a deafening roar that ripped through everyone's eardrums was heard. The high wall of true energy, which was strong enough to withstand thousands of troops, collapsed and shattered like brittle glass.

Nie Feng, Bu Jingyun, and Gui Hu were struck head-on by an ancient thunder dragon. Their meridians instantly reversed, and like kites with broken strings blown down by a gale in late autumn, they all spewed out a cloud of blood mist, crashing heavily onto the scorched earth dozens of feet away, their faces ashen and bleeding profusely.

The Fist God was also shaken by the overwhelming force of the counterattack, causing his internal organs to shift. He felt a sweet taste in his throat, and a large mouthful of thick, black blood gushed from the corner of his rough mouth.

However, this ferocious beast, driven mad by its own rage, was completely unaware of its severe injuries, not even flinching.

The ruthless, all-consuming power of jade and stone was so rampant!

"die!!"

With a single move, the martial arts master stepped into the void, shrinking the distance to an inch.

The giant iron fist, stained with the blood of a top expert, was raised high once more, carrying a ruthless intent to leave no corpse intact, and mercilessly smashed down on the skulls of the three people lying motionless on the ground.

In the blink of an eye, a streak of blue sky-like shadow drifted in like a celestial being descending to earth, effortlessly intercepting the deadly iron fist directly in front of it.

"Your opponent is me."

The nameless man's expression was neither sad nor happy. He brought his right hand together to form a two-finger sword gesture, and pointed it in mid-air without any fanfare at the edge of the giant fist that carried immense power.

"Ding!"

A clear, solitary sword cry, as pure as a spring from the heavens, instantly overwhelmed the despairing fist winds that howled like ghosts wailing.

The Fist God felt an extremely tough, vast, and continuous Heavenly Sword Qi pierce into his arm meridians like a poisonous needle, completely blocking the mountain-splitting, rock-shattering punch in mid-air, unable to advance or retreat.

His crimson beastly eyes suddenly shrank, and his burly body, propelled by two completely opposite and terrifying counterforces, flipped backward and slid down to a distance of three zhang.

A pair of deathly gray eyes were fixed on the spotless blue robe before him, and he hissed in a hoarse voice:

"Such a profound level of swordsmanship! Who are you?!"

The nameless man stood with his hands behind his back, letting the fierce wind whip around him amidst the bloodstains. His lips, as calm as still water, slowly uttered a few words:

"The Legend of the Central Plains Martial Arts World, Nameless."

"nameless?!"

The Fist God was taken aback at first, then a murderous intent that could scorch the heavens and boil the seas erupted from his terrifying, inhuman face.

"You're the so-called 'Martial Arts Legend,' Nameless! Good! Very good!!"

He suddenly extended his thick, child-arm-like fingers and pointed them at the corpse of the boxing fanatic on the ground, his voice a blood-curdling scream.

"So you scum are all pigs from the Central Plains! You dare to run wild on my Japanese soil and even kill my beloved son!! If I don't tear you to pieces and shred your bodies today, I, the God of Fist, swear I am not worthy of being called a human being!!"

"roar--!!"

With this blood-curdling roar that shattered the dome, the already imposing muscles of the Fist God began to swell and expand wildly like hundreds of writhing dragons, and his massive body expanded and stretched at a terrifying speed visible to the naked eye.

A dark and desperate aura, a hundred times more ferocious than when the mountain of corpses was shredded, erupted from this isolated island like magma that had been accumulating for thousands of years!

"kill!!"

The Fist God's figure was like a black mountain that suddenly collapsed, instantly leaving behind a series of violent afterimages that were difficult to catch with the naked eye.

A pair of iron fists, as if cast from black gold, unleashed a destructive onslaught like a storm, disregarding all martial arts rules and regulations. Relying solely on a terrifying force that seemed to want to turn the world upside down, they relentlessly bombarded Wuming's vital points.

Wuming's face remained calm, his footwork flowing silently. He was like an inconspicuous feather in a raging sea, always managing to narrowly avoid the fist's force just a fraction of an inch from tearing the corner of his clothes.

He joined his fingers together like swords, and with fluid movements, he unleashed a series of strikes at his sides, pushing the supreme technique "Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin" to its limit with his true energy.

In the void surrounding the man in green robes, chilling sword energy swirled and coiled wildly in a visible form, converging into dozens of deep vortexes, as profound as the undercurrents of the deep sea.

The moment the Fist God's domineering fist force, powerful enough to destroy cities and fortresses, touched the Gate of Life, it was forcibly pulled and torn apart like a mud ox entering the sea, and was ultimately swallowed up into the vortex of sword energy.

"Absorb my internal energy?"

The Fist God missed his target with a punch, and sensing the chaotic true energy within his body flowing away like a flood, he showed no panic whatsoever. Instead, his chiseled face contorted into an extremely bloodthirsty and cruel ferocious expression.

"Excellent! I'd like to see just how many punches this swordsmanship legend can take!!"

Instead of retreating, he advanced, his spine like a suddenly drawn iron bow, exerting its force once more.

All talk of using someone else's strength against them, of using minimal force to deflect a great weight, becomes nothing more than rotten wood decorations on a clay pot in the face of such absolute and brutal power that surpasses the limits of humankind.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The fist pressure, accompanied by a chilling sonic boom, surged forward like a tidal wave, one wave after another, creating a visible crimson ripple in the air.

While Wuming rapidly retreated using the Bagua stance, he also mobilized his remaining true energy to maintain the absorption barrier of "Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin".

However, the ultimate fist intent of the Fist God was too fierce and violent, and this madman was like an ancient demon god who never tires, with an inexhaustible source of internal energy, as if there would never be a day when it would stagnate or dry up.

The speed at which "Ten Thousand Swords Return to the Origin" devoured and neutralized the attacks was unprecedentedly slowed down and unable to keep up under the relentless barrage of fist energy!

"Bang!"

Wuming's body suddenly trembled. His usually light and agile footwork was ultimately forced back by an extremely powerful punch from a distance. His plain cloth shoes involuntarily took half a step back, crushing a large blue stone into a shattered state.

One step forward leads to a complete rout.

Under this relentless barrage of deadly punches, like a mad dog biting its neck, giving its opponent no chance to breathe, the once-unrivaled legend of the Central Plains martial arts world was forced into a perilous situation and forced to retreat step by step by a heretic from Japan!