Anyone with eyes could see that Great Village Fist had no chance of turning the tables.
Two consecutive defeats had already drained what little morale they had left.
Several disciples who had followed Zhuang Daqiang slipped away amid the chaos, vanishing without a trace.
They feared the martial arts school would settle accounts after the autumn harvest, so they hurriedly cut ties with Zhuang Daqiang and went their separate ways to seek a living.
Now, only the still-unconscious Zhang Shiyu and the heavily wounded Zhuang Tie remained.
Zhuang Daqiang called out, "Wang Laohu, you and I both know that the children fighting among themselves is of no consequence."
"The outcome between you and me is what concerns the future."
Zhang Shiyu, his pride and joy, had been defeated. Zhuang Tie, whom he regarded as half a son, had lost the use of half an arm. Now, only he remained.
Yet Zhuang Daqiang still refused to abandon hope.
"You speak reasonably. If you beat me to death, these boys won't be able to hold on to the foundation, and it will surely be taken by you."
Wang Jianxiong nodded. "As for those disciples of yours who ran away, they are of no importance. People in this world generally flock to the powerful and trample the weak. So long as there is territory and prestige, however many apprentices you want will come rolling in."
"In the third match, if you kill me, you'll have both territory and prestige."
If he could defeat Wang Laohu head-on, he would surely have a place in Gongliang City.
Zhuang Daqiang had Zhuang Tie bind his wound, then carry the unconscious Zhang Shiyu aside.
"I will have a bout with Wang Laohu."
In Gongliang City sat the Sitting Tiger; his tiger sons and tiger grandsons competed in ferocity.
Though this saying was a slogan fervently touted by the martial arts circles, its reputation was backed by solid gold.
Seeing once was better than hearing a hundred times. He had just witnessed the savagery of the tiger sons and grandsons; now, he would face their tiger ancestor head-on.
Great Village Fist had risen in Su City and had been passed down for three generations before reaching his hands. It absolutely could not fade into obscurity and perish.
In this battle, even if he burned these old bones to ashes, he would carve out a name for himself.
The world of martial artists had always been a path of survival fought out through one battle after another, where the weak were meat for the strong.
Outsiders knew only the mighty name of Sitting Tiger Wang Jianxiong, but not of the piles of white bones laid beneath that fame.
The question was, could he succeed in slaying the tiger today?
Wang Jianxiong rose and entered the arena, removing his outer robe and tossing it behind him. Several trusted disciples scrambled to catch it.
He took several steps, looking like an ordinary old man, but Zhou You noticed that his footing was exceptionally steady.
How steady was it?
Beneath Wang Jianxiong's feet, not even sesame-seed-sized pebbles were stirred. The dirt lay utterly still as well.
He strolled as though wandering through a quiet courtyard, while Zhuang Daqiang faced a great enemy and had already assumed his stance.
"Your Great Village Fist is, at its root, a farmer's style. Its ceiling is too low."
"For me to kill you with the Jade Tiger Skill is already honoring you."
"Zhuang Daqiang, one cannot bear to leave one's native soil, and fallen leaves return to their roots. In this life, you are destined never to be buried in Su City's earth."
Two beams of silver light shot from Wang Jianxiong's eyes, and where they landed, dense honeycomb-like pits appeared as though pricked by needles.
"Today, I will turn you, this Sitting Tiger, into a dead tiger."
The great sinews across Zhuang Daqiang's body bulged like coiling dragons, and his withered frame erupted with astonishing power.
When he threw his punch, even the buildings, including the martial arts school, seemed to bounce twice before everyone's eyes.
Some apprentices could not help clutching their chests, afraid their hearts would beat so violently that they would leap out of their mouths.
This terrifying might that shook the earth stood a level above even the previous clash between Qi and Blood Disciples.
Wang Jianxiong made his move. He raised his right hand, its skin flashing with silver light before turning into a tiger claw in an instant.
"Paltry tricks, and you dare flaunt them?"
The silver tiger claw lashed out like lightning. Zhuang Daqiang's pupils contracted sharply as he hurriedly twisted his body and swung his arm aside to evade it.
His Mud-Treading Steps were even more seasoned, without the slightest trace of ostentation. With a light sway, he had already moved dozens of meters away.
Wang Jianxiong's tiger claw pursued him like a shadow.
The others saw only their venerable school master stomp the ground and leap, crossing a vast distance in an instant to strike.
Fierce Tiger Descends the Mountain possessed both speed and strength, directly shattering the prejudice that great hulking beasts were clumsy.
"Clang, clang."
Zhou You's ears twitched. When the two martial masters exchanged blows, the collision of flesh produced the ringing of gold and iron.
At their level, their defenses had reached the point of being like a layer of Iron Armor Plates, difficult to harm even with blades and swords.
After more than a dozen exchanges, a burst of hearty laughter suddenly rang out.
"Zhuang Daqiang, is this all you can do?"
Wang Jianxiong threw back his head and laughed wildly, then abruptly stopped.
He turned to speak to several trusted disciples. "Watch closely. This is how the fist forms of the Wang Tiger Skill are performed."
Lu Qiang and the other trusted disciples stood respectfully, listening to their master's instruction.
"Mountain Lord Welcomes Guests, Open One's Heart!"
Silver light burst forth, golden patterns spread, and his palm swelled into a tiger claw.
Wang Jianxiong's figure instantly transformed into a robust ferocious tiger, stirring up a gust of bloody wind from level ground.
Zhou You rubbed his eyes. It was not an illusion, but the unmistakable outline of a fierce tiger, its fur, claws, and fangs lifelike in every detail.
Could martial arts truly reach such a realm?
A body of flesh and blood transforming into the form of a fierce tiger was practically divine.
Zhuang Daqiang, too, refused to be outdone, unleashing an equal ultimate move.
His arms took the shape of hooked sickles. The cold light bursting from his pores condensed into blades, like two crossed sickles of refined steel.
When the breeze brushed across the sickles' surfaces, it was instantly sliced in two, leaving no trace afterward.
The ultimate moves of two great martial masters were about to collide in a world-shaking showdown.
"Wang Laohu, die!"
Zhuang Daqiang struck first, swinging his two sickles in a cross toward Wang Jianxiong's head.
Cutting grass was like cutting heads; now the true measure would be seen!
Wang Jianxiong said nothing more. Raising both tiger claws, he lunged forward as golden and silver light churned like boiling water.
The sickles broke, followed at once by the sound of shattering!
Violent force slammed into Zhuang Daqiang's chest, pierced through his body, and burst straight out his back.
His breastbone shattered cleanly, stabbing into his internal organs and even piercing through his back. Flesh turned outward, and blood poured like a stream.
Zhuang Daqiang's body flew through the air like a kite with its string cut, crashing down and smashing out a crater.
Boom! The sound of his landing rang clearly in everyone's ears.
Three victories in three matches. Jianxiong Martial Arts School had achieved a crushing triumph, winning from beginning to end.
And each victory had come faster and more easily than the last.
When School Master Wang Jianxiong personally took the field, he won in fewer than twenty exchanges, beating Zhuang Daqiang until it was unknown whether he lived or died.
"Master!"
Zhuang Tie staggered forward and supported the faintly breathing Zhuang Daqiang.
"He's not dead. He has one breath left. Take him away!"
Wang Jianxiong put his outer robe back on, shaking his head with a self-mocking smile. "I'm old. My heart has softened too."
In the past, he would not have minded adding another kick and crushing Zhuang Daqiang to death.
Thus ended the challenge to the school.
Jianxiong Martial Arts School had defended its reputation, beating the Great Village Fist lineage to the brink of extinction, leaving only three old, weak, sick, and crippled remnants.
Martial combat was this cruel: the victor shone in glory, while the defeated perished.
Had Jianxiong Martial Arts School lost, the fates of both sides would have been reversed. There was no dispute about that.
However, this was not an isolated case.
In the days that followed, news came from martial arts schools across the city that Su City's martial arts circles were successively launching challenges against various schools.
Though most failed, a rare few succeeded.
The defeated schools removed their own signboards and ceded their territory to the victors, while apprentices and disciples scattered like monkeys when the tree fell.
The impact of the chaotic age had begun to descend upon the martial arts world.
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