Strange Man and Birdman

Seeing Meng Zhao refuse, Lü Yue grew anxious and was about to persuade him again.

Suddenly, throwing knives spun in from both sides like powerful crossbow bolts, carrying the force of wind and thunder as they shot straight at Meng Zhao. His expression changed drastically, leaving him no time to speak.

He flicked and twisted the spiked long whip in his hand. Internal Energy surged forth, forming a ceaselessly spinning tornado around Meng Zhao.

It even struck after the knives had been launched yet arrived first, knocking them all down and displaying extraordinary skill.

Then his gaze sharpened. The long whip moved like a nimble python, stabbing toward a patch of wild grass to the front right, as high as a grown man's calf. A sharp explosion of air rang out, shattering grass clippings that scattered through the air and forcing out a Strange Man clad in a dark green robe, his face painted with garish patterns.

With his hiding place exposed, the Strange Man gave a cackling laugh. Rather than retreating, he advanced. His movements were elusive and erratic as hidden weapons flew from his hands once more.

This time, however, they were even more secretive and difficult to spot—flying needles that appeared transparent even beneath the blazing sun.

This time, Lü Yue was no longer as composed as before. With a step, he leaped through the air directly in front of Meng Zhao, like the sturdiest of shields.

His arm swayed, and his long whip danced, turning into arcs rippling with halos of light. Like a python opening its enormous jaws, it swallowed every silver needle that came flying, the technique bizarre and uncanny.

As he landed, a cold killing intent flashed across Lü Yue's still somewhat youthful face. With a curl and flick of his long whip, he sent every silver needle he had just caught hurtling back, carrying the spirit of returning the other's methods back upon them.

This move made the Strange Man cry out in alarm. He clearly had not expected it, and because he failed to dodge in time, the silver needles tore through his clothes and flesh, leaving him in an even sorrier state.

Meng Zhao, who had been watching patiently all along, could not help but marvel. What formidable whip technique.

It was not the tyranny of crushing ten opponents with sheer force, but an exceptionally delicate yielding strength and skill tempered through countless trials.

Had it been him, even if he could have avoided those hidden weapons, he would not have done so with such ease.

"No wonder Lü Zhong took him in as an adopted son and trained him. This talent and aptitude truly are remarkable."

Lü Zhong was no great philanthropist. He could not possibly have adopted an orphan for no reason.

The reason, naturally, was that he had seen talents and qualities in Lü Yue that ordinary people did not possess.

Lü Yue's performance also proved that Lü Zhong had not misjudged him.

Whether it was his martial arts or the way he had placed Meng Zhao's safety above all else from beginning to end, he had not disappointed Lü Zhong's expectations.

The wounded Strange Man was somewhat enraged and humiliated. He glared viciously at Lü Yue, apparently never expecting to be forced into such a wretched state by a half-grown child. From who knew where, he produced several more plum blossom darts and flicked them toward Lü Yue.

Because this attack was aimed directly at Lü Yue rather than Meng Zhao, and because it was launched in fury, its force and speed increased by another thirty percent. It was as swift as meteors and lightning, and the whistling of air being torn apart made the Meng Mansion guards nearby break out in goosebumps.

These weaklings could not help but feel horrified. Such terrifying hidden-weapon techniques truly were instruments of murder.

That was the disgusting part about those who cultivated hidden weapons.

Although among high-level martial artists, such as Innate Masters and even those in the higher Grandmaster Realm, few specialized in hidden-weapon techniques.

At lower levels, especially in the Acquired Realm, martial artists who knew hidden-weapon arts were generally difficult to deal with.

Besides his outstanding saber skills, Scarface under Meng Zhao also possessed respectable hidden-weapon techniques.

Just as Lü Yue and the Strange Man were locked in a fierce confrontation, another figure suddenly shot out from the grass where the Strange Man had been hiding. More precisely, it was a Birdman.

He wore a white bird-beak mask that revealed only his eyes. Suspended in midair, his arms spread wide like a great roc spreading its wings, he pounced toward Meng Zhao, who stood in the front compartment of the carriage, with thunderous speed.

His timing was exceptionally clever.

First of all, this person had been hiding not far from where the Strange Man had concealed himself.

Neither Meng Zhao nor Lü Yue had expected that.

The might of Lü Yue's earlier whip strike had been plain for all to see—shattering stone as easily as tofu. Yet this man had remained utterly still in the face of such danger, without leaking even the slightest trace of his presence. His mental fortitude far exceeded what ordinary people could imagine.

Precisely because neither of them had expected him to be hiding there, his attack seemed all the more abrupt, catching them utterly off guard.

Second, the area where the Strange Man and Lü Yue were fighting had gradually moved away from the carriage.

That was because the Strange Man would occasionally shoot darts at Meng Zhao, forcing Lü Yue to hold back and preventing him from fighting freely. Fearing that a moment of carelessness might injure Meng Zhao, he had no choice but to take the initiative and chase after him, hoping to kill the man as quickly as possible before returning to defend Meng Zhao.

Based on those two points, the Birdman had chosen an excellent moment—attacking where they were unprepared and slipping in through the gap.

At this time, several Meng Mansion guards still stood beside Meng Zhao with sabers drawn to protect him.

When they saw the Birdman suddenly fly out, though incomparably shocked, they still displayed fine discipline unlike a disorderly rabble.

The opponent was too fast for them to raise their crossbows and fire, but they still surrounded Meng Zhao without regard for their lives.

When the Birdman swooped down, four Steel Sabers gleaming with cold light slashed out from different directions and angles, carrying the resolve that either they would die or he would.

Saber Light danced, sealing off the Birdman's path forward, all aimed at his vital points.

Then Meng Zhao saw the Birdman let out a crane-like cry. His outstretched arms thrust forward, tearing through the air with several swishes as they grabbed at the incoming Steel Sabers.

His five fingers curled into hooks, gleaming with the color of bluish iron. Crisp crackling sounds rang out as he used his bare claws to crush the sharp, tough Steel Sabers, which contained Internal Energy, into pieces.

The four Meng Mansion guards felt a powerful force travel through their hands. Their tiger's mouths split open, and their saber hilts flew from their grasp.

At the same time, they were all thrown backward, falling from their horses. They spat out blood and fainted.

The Birdman's attack was briefly halted. He drifted down from the air, lightly touching his toes less than a zhang from the side of the carriage.

He turned into a fierce gale again and charged at Meng Zhao standing atop the carriage. His intention was clear: capture, not kill.

His movements were graceful and natural, without the slightest stiffness.

The distance between the two rapidly closed. Their eyes met, and sparks seemed to flash through the air.

Meng Zhao could even see the smug satisfaction and delight in the Birdman's eyes.

Indeed, the three great experts he had brought out of the city—Scarface, Wang Tao, and Lü Yue—were all tied down by experts, willing but powerless, distant waters unable to quench nearby thirst. The other guards were no match for him; even together, they had been beaten until they vomited blood and lost consciousness.

Under such circumstances, it seemed Meng Zhao had no choice but to submit and be captured.

Yet the ways of the world were always difficult to predict.

When the Birdman leaped into the air and reached for Meng Zhao, the young master who should have become a meal upon his plate underwent a heaven-and-earth transformation...

In truth, when the Birdman attacked, Meng Zhao had already circulated the Arhat Young Monk Skill and made his preparations.

After all, he had never believed that the few Meng Mansion guards could stop this man.

Strength surged and roiled within his body. Pure Yang Child Qi formed an invisible net around him, reducing the harm he might suffer.

Thick tendons like coiling dragons tightened and gathered strength along his right arm, driving his blood and qi to soar.

When the Birdman drew near, Meng Zhao's aura suddenly erupted. He stepped forward.

The terrifying force drove the entire carriage, together with the Black Scale Horses pulling it, down half an inch, making the two Black Scale Horses cry out wildly.

His arm swung like an axe, his fist like a great hammer, becoming three afterimages and stirring up a violent gale.

Cloud Peak Three Strikes—the move among the thirteen forms of Luohan Fist with the greatest stored power and fiercest attack.

Luohan Fist had always emphasized fierce force. Combined with the long-accumulated power of Cloud Peak Three Strikes and the explosive burst of Internal Energy from the Arhat Young Monk Skill, this punch erupted with a might that even Meng Zhao had not anticipated.

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