Hand-to-Hand Battle, Oirat Divine General

Hand-to-Hand Dragon Fight, Oirat Upheaval!

Lin Zhao sat cross-legged on the bluestone floor of the Blacksmith Shop, his fingertips lightly tracing the mystic iron ingot on his knees—this was the final payment for forging he had just collected from Xuan Yao Pavilion, three hundred and five gold coins, enough to buy the batch of Dragon Yuan due to be auctioned by the merchant guild next month.

He knew clearly that, at his current cultivation speed, as long as he gathered enough materials to break through to Peak Martial Master and took Ling Song's head before Meng Yanshan's oil ran dry and his lamp went out, it would not be difficult.

Yet he still held himself back—though Ling Song was weak, he was the father-in-law of Baxia, the "Guardian General of the Nation."

Lin Zhao had yet to fathom Baxia's true depths. He only knew that Baxia was a Grandmaster Warrior of the Heavenly Gang Realm who could tear savage beasts apart with his bare hands. Such a man's protectiveness of his own was certainly beyond comparison with a minor character like Black Tiger Yama.

"There must be guards arranged by Baxia around Ling Song. There might even be Grandmaster Warrior-level contingencies." Lin Zhao opened his eyes, a trace of calm flashing through them. "Taking risks might work, but only by advancing steadily and fighting securely can I keep winning."

He took out the slip of paper in his robe. It listed the materials he still lacked: Dragon Saliva Fragrance, baleful dust, and Netherworld Grass.

"Just these three remain. Once I get the Dragon Saliva Fragrance, I can refine Qi and Blood Pills and charge toward the peak of the Houtian Realm." Lin Zhao crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the furnace. The flames surged up with a whoosh, reflecting blazing heat in his eyes.

More than a month passed in a blur, and the celebration of Oirat's three hundredth year since its founding finally began.

Lanting City boiled over completely—the streets and alleys were draped in bright yellow wolf banners, martial hall disciples in fitted training clothes practiced their fists and kicks in the streets, and even beggars from the outer city received two meat buns each.

The greatest spectacle of the celebration was the "Hand-to-Hand Dragon Fight" at the arena outside the city—the star of it was none other than Baxia, the "Guardian General of the Nation."

Lin Zhao changed into a gray short outfit, tucked away his Gilded Mask, and headed for the arena early.

The moment he reached the entrance, he saw Thousand Mile Guest waving his arm and shouting at him, "Brother Lin! Over here!"

The two followed the crowd inside. At a glance, Lin Zhao took in the arena's appearance—it resembled an enormous bowl turned upside down, with tier upon tier of bluestone stands capable of holding tens of thousands. The stone platforms at the very front were even carved with railings forged from refined iron, yet even that could not restrain the spectators' fervor.

The place Li Yue had found was not ideal. It was too close to the center of the arena, and Lin Zhao could even smell the beastly stench drifting through the air.

"I heard this Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon was transported here from the northern desert. It's even bigger than the last one!" Li Yue rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining as if they might spit light. "I've lived this long, but I've never seen a living Pangolin Dragon!"

Lin Zhao said nothing. His gaze swept across the highest VIP stand—there sat a cluster of richly dressed nobles, among whom was a plump old man with a large head and fat ears. It was none other than Ling Song, the Minister of Revenue.

Beside him sat a woman in a brocade dress, presumably Baxia's wife. Two expressionless guards stood on either side, their fluctuations of qi and blood concealed yet weighty. They were actually Peak Martial Masters!

"He certainly knows how to enjoy himself." Lin Zhao sneered inwardly, his fingers unconsciously brushing the long sword at his waist. If I rushed up there now, could I kill Ling Song before the guards reacted?

But he quickly suppressed the thought—Meng Yanshan had not said where the Dragon Yuan Divine Statue was hidden. Even if he killed Ling Song, it would be pointless if he could not find it, and he would only end up throwing his own life away.

"Forget it. I'll first see Baxia's strength, so I can make plans for the future."

At that moment, cheers suddenly erupted from the stands, like thunder crashing beside his ears.

Lin Zhao looked up—and at the entrance of the arena, a giant was slowly walking out.

It was Baxia!

He stood nearly three meters tall, his shoulders wide enough for two ordinary Common Fighters. His bare upper body was covered in knotted muscles, every piece resembling cast mystic iron and gleaming with bronze light.

He carried no weapon at all, with only a strip of beast hide tied around his waist. Whenever his feet landed, even the stands trembled. A fierce, forceful pressure of qi and blood drifted over on the wind, making Li Yue beside Lin Zhao unconsciously clench his fists, his face turning pale.

"Th-this is still a human?" Li Yue swallowed, his voice trembling.

Lin Zhao narrowed his eyes as well—he had seen many Peak Martial Masters, but never one with qi and blood this fierce and forceful!

Baxia's aura was like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Merely looking at him made one's heart quail.

"Baxia has descended! Guardian General of the Nation!"

"Guardian deity! Kill the Pangolin Dragon!"

The spectators in the stands shouted like madmen. Some even threw their hats into the air. The Common Fighters in the front rows slapped their thighs and roared, while even the descendants of noble families upstairs leaned forward, forgetting to wave the folding fans in their hands.

Baxia raised a hand and pressed it down. The cheers instantly softened.

He opened his mouth, his voice spreading through the entire arena like a great bell: "May the Sacred City stand forever! Long live Oirat!"

At that roar, Lin Zhao felt his eardrums buzz, and even the qi and blood within him swayed—this was not speaking at all, but qi and blood shaken into sound!

The spectators in the stands went even crazier. Faces flushed red, they shouted along with him, "Long live Oirat!"

Soon, a bright yellow figure appeared on the highest stand—the Oirat Khan.

He wore an imperial robe embroidered with wolf patterns, surrounded by a group of ministers. Raising his voice, he said, "Baxia! My divine general! You have guarded Oirat for ten years. Today, let the countless people of the Sacred City witness just how powerful the God of War of Oirat truly is!"

He paused, then abruptly swung his arm down. "Release the Pangolin Dragon!"

Rumble—

The iron gate on one side of the arena slowly rose. Low roars came from the pitch-black opening, and a thick bloody stench drifted out, making even the wind several degrees colder.

Immediately afterward, a huge figure burst out—it was the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon!

It was fully ten zhang long, its entire body covered in dark brown dragon scales. Its claws resembled polished refined iron, and when it raised its head, it stood taller than the railings of the stands. A pair of scarlet eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Baxia.

Roar!

The Pangolin Dragon's roar shook dust into the air. The spectators in the stands instinctively shrank back, while Baxia alone remained standing where he was.

He clenched both fists, and the muscles in his arms suddenly bulged. A layer of pitch-black qi and blood power emerged from his skin, as though he had been clad in a suit of iron armor.

"Good timing!"

Baxia roared, and the bluestone tiles beneath his feet cracked with a crack. He shot forward like a cannonball.

The Pangolin Dragon refused to be outdone. Its enormous head rammed toward him with howling wind, carrying enough force to smash down a small house!

Lin Zhao's heart leaped into his throat—he had thought Baxia would evade with movement techniques, but he had not expected him to meet it head-on!

Bang!

His fists collided with the dragon's head, and a dull boom echoed through the arena.

Lin Zhao could even see several of the Pangolin Dragon's scales shatter and fly away. Baxia's body swayed as well, but he quickly steadied himself. His other fist, wreathed in black qi, smashed into the Pangolin Dragon's neck—with a crack, the dragon's neck was actually knocked crooked to one side, and blood flowed from a wound along the gaps between its scales.

"So strong!" Li Yue could not help shouting.

Lin Zhao clenched his palms—if it had been him, even with the Mystic Iron Cold Scale Armor to take the hit, he would likely have had his ribs broken by the Pangolin Dragon's charge.

Was this the strength of a Grandmaster Warrior of the Heavenly Gang Realm?

No wonder Baxia could suppress the Oirat Khan and become Oirat's guardian deity.

The Pangolin Dragon, hurt and enraged, became even more ferocious. Its tail lashed at Baxia like a steel whip.

Baxia flipped onto the Pangolin Dragon's back and rained his fists down upon its scales. Black qi exploded again and again, more and more dragon scales shattered away, and dragon blood fell like rain onto the ground, staining the arena's bluestone red.

As expected, those who can stand at the pinnacle of martial arts have no shortcomings, Lin Zhao thought.

Baxia's strength was already terrifying, yet his speed was equally fast. Not once did the Pangolin Dragon's attacks touch him.

He recalled his Blood Poison Technique and Green Falcon Technique, suddenly feeling the gap between them was still vast—just this fierce and forceful qi and blood would take him years of training to catch up to.

Before long, the Pangolin Dragon's movements grew slower and slower, while the wound on its neck widened further and further.

Baxia seized the chance. Grabbing the earth dragon's scales with both hands, he tore violently—rip! A huge patch of dragon scales, flesh, and blood was ripped free. The Pangolin Dragon let out a miserable shriek, crashed to the ground, and lost all breath.

"Guardian General of the Nation!"

Cheers exploded from the stands once more. The spectators clapped, and some were so excited that they even jumped up.

Baxia stood atop the Pangolin Dragon's corpse, breathing heavily. His bronze skin was covered in dragon blood and sweat.

He bore quite a few wounds as well, some deep enough to expose bone, yet he seemed not to feel any pain. He raised a hand to wipe his face, then clasped his hands toward the stands.

But just then, Baxia's body suddenly swayed, and his steps staggered.

He lowered his head to look at a wound on his chest—the wound had originally been bright red, yet now it visibly began to turn blue-purple, while even the surrounding flesh darkened.

"Poison?" Lin Zhao was startled inwardly—he was fairly familiar with poisons. This blue-purple color was clearly the deadly poison brewed from Heart-Rotting Grass. Once it touched blood, it could spread through the qi and blood, paralyzing the entire body within half an hour!

Before Lin Zhao could react, white smoke suddenly rose from all four corners of the arena. Like a tide, it spread outward and quickly enveloped half the arena.

The spectators in the stands began coughing. Some grew dizzy and fell directly from the stands, frothing at the mouth and convulsing without end.

As for those who had not collapsed, bronze masks had somehow appeared over their faces, and the Long Swords in their hands gleamed coldly—they were rebel troops that had been lying in ambush all along!

"Not good! It's a trap!" Lin Zhao grabbed Li Yue, who was about to stand, and said in a low voice, "Crouch down! The white smoke is poisonous. Don't breathe!"

Li Yue's face turned pale. He hurriedly crouched down with him and covered his nose.

The screams from the stands instantly drowned out the cheers. People fled madly toward the exits, but the arena gates closed with a rumble. A stampede soon broke out in the packed crowd, and cries, wails, and shrieks rose one after another.

In the arena, Baxia gritted his teeth and forcibly suppressed the poison within his body. His eyes seemed ready to spew fire as he glared at the stands and roared, "Who did this? You rats who hide your heads and show your tails, come out if you have the guts!"

His gaze swept toward the highest stand—it had already become a scene of utter chaos.

The Oirat Khan's imperial robe had been torn open. A middle-aged man in the official robes of the Ministry of War held a dagger wreathed in black qi, pulling it from the Khan's back. Blood on the dagger dripped from its blade to the ground as the Khan's body collapsed limply.

"Royal Brother, don't blame me." The Minister of War tore off his official hat, revealing a sinister face. The pressure of qi and blood around him erupted—he was actually a Grandmaster Warrior of the Heavenly Gang Realm! "You became Baxia's puppet long ago. Oirat cannot fall into the hands of an outsider!"

After saying that, he leaped down from the stands. A suit of Mystic Iron Armor soon covered his body, and the surrounding rebel troops gathered around him, dropping to one knee. "Welcome, new Khan!"

The Minister of War—who should now be called the new Khan—pointed at Baxia and shouted sharply, "Baxia! Today will be the day you die!"

Baxia wiped the blood from his face, then suddenly bared his teeth in a grin. His laughter was filled with wild arrogance. "Just you? All my life, I, Baxia, have never wanted the Khan's throne! You think a rabble like this, along with some rat who relies on poison, can kill me?"

The instant his words fell, a black shadow suddenly shot out of the white smoke, a Short Knife in hand stabbing straight at Baxia's back! The shadow was unbelievably fast, and the fluctuations of qi and blood around it also carried the aura of a Grandmaster Warrior of the Heavenly Gang Realm!

Baxia snorted coldly. Without even turning around, he threw a backhand punch.

Black qi collided with the black shadow's Short Knife. A crisp ding rang out, and the shadow was forced several steps back, revealing a Night Raven Mask.

"Xuanying?" Baxia raised an eyebrow, his eyes full of disdain. "I never expected you to sell your life for power as well. What, you think the two of you can defeat me?"

He rolled his wrist. Though the black qi around him had faded somewhat, his fierce and forceful bearing had not diminished in the slightest. If anything, it was even stronger than before. "Let me tell you: even if I am poisoned today, even if the two of you attack together, you still cannot defeat me! Because the gap between you and me is like that between ants and a giant dragon—we are not on the same level at all!"

Lin Zhao's eyes lit up beneath the stands—this was a rare battle between Grandmaster Warriors!

Even crouching in the corner to watch, he could feel the terrifying collision of qi and blood in the arena, his heart pounding along with it.