Comprehensive Martial Arts: My Master is Huang Rong

The lines of her legs were smooth and elegant, filled with the strength of a martial artist, yet possessing the unique feminine grace. The fullness of her thighs and the slenderness of her calves formed a perfect golden ratio.

Without the slightest hesitation, he gently lifted one of her legs and placed it on his cross-legged knee.

His hand began to stroke downwards from the curve of her rounded, firm thigh. The skin there was even firmer than her upper body, brimming with astonishing vitality. He could clearly feel the subtle tremors of her perfect muscle lines beneath his palm.

His fingers even "accidentally" brushed against the edge of that most private, most secluded patch of fragrant grass.

The soft fuzz brushed against his fingertips like a feather sweeping across his heartstrings, itching so intensely he nearly lost his composure. He could feel a wave of damp heat quietly spreading deep within that forbidden zone, stoking the wicked fire in his lower abdomen until it burned even hotter.

He forcefully suppressed the deeper urges within his heart, channeling his masculine internal energy along the inner side of her thigh, inch by inch, forcing out the residual cold poison from her body.

Afterward, he attended to her other leg, with the same meticulous detail and a "focus" that invited imagination. The smooth, jade-like lines of her legs sent tingles through Lin Xuan's fingertips. Her plump, jade-like legs trembled involuntarily on his knee, and the tender curve of her inner thighs repeatedly challenged his self-control.

He slowly withdrew his internal energy, and with it, his hands that had… traveled through heaven and explored hell.

Ning Zhongze in his embrace had completely transformed.

Her skin, originally as pale as paper, now glowed from head to toe with a healthy, captivating, blush of peach that seemed as if it could drip with moisture.

Her face was like a peach blossom, her delicate cheeks flushed, her lips full and red, her breathing steady and long. Her tightly furrowed brow had completely relaxed, and a contented, sweet, and lingering smile even graced the corners of her lips, as if she were immersed in an incredibly beautiful and wondrous dream.

She lay there naked, like a tamed Persian cat that had shed all its defenses, lying quietly and obediently in Lin Xuan's arms.

Lin Xuan lowered his head, gazing at this beautiful body, a sense of conquest surging within him.

There will be time for that later; now is not the moment. Heroine Ning, you will be mine eventually.

After finishing all this, he walked to the cave entrance and listened to the sounds of fighting outside, which had completely subsided. The cold night wind blew on his face, which was hot from channeling his internal energy, bringing a refreshing coolness that cleared his head.

Deep within the cave, Ning Zhongze was still lost in a sweet dream.

Only a golden, warm, and irresistibly powerful figure had forcefully rescued her from an endless icy hell, and given her an ultimate experience that made both her soul and body tremble and fall into a trance.

Chapter Forty-Three: Slay Generals and Seize Flags

Lin Xuan's figure, like a wisp of smoke, silently ascended to a large rock at the cave's summit. Standing high above, his icy gaze swept across the entire Yan Hui Valley battlefield like a hawk.

The current battle situation was unfolding exactly as he had predicted, fierce and precarious.

The Wolf Rider commander had indeed fallen into his "Stratagem of the Arrogant Soldier" trap.

He personally led his most elite core guards, like a red-hot iron cone, piercing deep into the "pocket" at the heart of Yan Hui Valley, attempting to smash what he imagined to be the "Central Plains Martial Arts World's main command center."

Behind him, on the mountain walls of the two flanks, ambushing forces composed of experts from various sects had unleashed a volley of arrows. Rolling logs and stones rained down like raindrops, successfully cutting off this advancing elite Wolf Rider force from their main army in the rear.

The core of the battle was now focused on the relatively open area at the bottom of the valley.

The assault team led by Luo Bing, consisting of one hundred skilled martial artists, was like a sharp dagger, darting and weaving through Bolton's main army, creating chaos with their desperate efforts to provide the best attack opportunities for the flanking ambushes.

However, the formidable might of the Mongol Wolf Riders far exceeded the imagination of the Central Plains heroes.

These elites, who had survived countless battles on the grasslands, showed no signs of panic even when surrounded.

Under the shouts of their centurions and decurions, they quickly formed small circular defensive formations, like hard reefs, stubbornly resisting attacks from all directions.

Their horsemanship was exquisite, their curved sabers deadly, and their coordination seamless. Every counterattack took the lives of several Central Plains experts.

The assault team led by Luo Bing was now locked in a brutal, arduous battle.

Bloodstains and dust marred her bright and beautiful face, adding a touch of breathtaking heroism. Her tight-fitting night clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to her voluptuous and fiery, curvaceous body. Every dodge and weave outlined a blood-pumping arc.

The Mandarin Duck Blades in her hands flew like snow, incredibly swift, each strike aimed at the enemy's most unexpected blind spot. Her husband, Wen Tailai, fought with broad, powerful strokes. The wind from his iron palms roared like thunder. Any Wolf Rider struck by his palm force was left with broken bones and overturned horses, falling in heaps.

But they were, after all, only a hundred people. Facing an enemy ten times their number, who fought without fear of death, they were gradually showing signs of fatigue.

The assault team's formation had been broken several times, and their casualties were heavy. Although they had killed nearly two hundred Wolf Riders in their desperate fight, they had lost more than half their own men. Everyone remaining bore wounds, relying solely on sheer courage to persist.

Lin Xuan's gaze, passing over the chaotic battlefield, precisely locked onto a large golden tent behind the Wolf Rider army formation.

There lay the command center of the enemy commander, Bolton.

Outside the tent, a ferocious banner embroidered with a black wolf was erected. Beneath it, three hundred of the most formidable guards, clad in gleaming armor with spears like a forest, protected the large tent like an iron bucket.

Bolton himself was standing in front of the tent, a cruel and disdainful smile on his face, watching the Central Plains people fighting back like ants in his eyes.

He had already seen through the enemy's intentions. As long as this elite "dagger" force at the valley floor was completely annihilated, the so-called ambushing forces on the flanks would lose morale and become lambs to the slaughter.

"It's about time," Lin Xuan murmured to himself, a cold glint flashing in his eyes. "The fish have taken the bait and are completely focused. Now, it's time to reel them in."

He leaped down from the rock, his movements ethereal. With a few swift movements, he appeared behind the Mount Hua Sect's formation.

"Young Master Lin!" Several Mount Hua disciples who were carrying rolling logs saw him, their surprise and joy evident. "Mistress, she..."

"Heroine Ning's injuries are no longer serious; she is resting in the cave," Lin Xuan's voice was calm and steady, yet carried an undeniable authority. "Pass on my orders: all second-generation disciples who are still capable of fighting, gather here immediately! I need only ten, the strongest!"

His words seemed to carry a certain magic. The disciples, who had been anxious due to the stalemate in the battle, instantly found their anchor. Soon, ten elite disciples of the Mount Hua Sect stood before him, swords in hand.

Lin Xuan's gaze swept over them, then turned to the leaders of other sects who were directing troops nearby. He announced loudly:

"Esteemed seniors! Heroine Luo Bing and her comrades have fought valiantly for a long time, creating a rare opportunity for us! Now, the enemy leader Bolton believes victory is assured, and his defenses are most lax! I, Lin Xuan, though unworthy, am willing to lead a small elite team, following the example of Marquis Wu's surprise attack on Zi Wu Valley in the past, to strike directly at the enemy's heart and slay generals to seize flags!"

"I request that each of you seniors select ten of your sect's most elite disciples to accompany me! This battle, if successful, will leave not a single Wolf Rider alive; if it fails, my head, Lin Xuan, is forfeit!"

His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears. His calm demeanor and confident strategic insight invigorated everyone who heard him!

The sect leaders, who had been worried about the assault team's difficult battle, now saw a glimmer of victory. Without hesitation, they immediately selected the strongest disciples from their ranks.

Before long, a force of fifty people, representing the most elite strength of the younger generation in the entire Central Plains Martial Arts World, had assembled before Lin Xuan.

In each of their eyes, a fierce fighting spirit burned, along with a near-blind trust in Lin Xuan.

Lin Xuan looked at the squad and nodded with satisfaction. His gaze swept over everyone, his voice becoming deep and powerful:

"Everyone, listen up. We are not going there to charge into battle, nor to kill many enemies. Our objective is singular—the great tent beneath that black wolf flag, three hundred feet away!"

He pointed into the distance, his voice as cold as a knife. "I don't need you to linger in battle, nor do I need you to play the hero. What I need from you is speed, stealth, and absolute obedience!"

"I will tear open a bloody path to the enemy chieftain's heart for you, and all you need to do is follow closely behind me, plunging your swords, your sabers, your palms fiercely into the enemy's throats! Do you have confidence?"

"Yes!" fifty people roared in unison, their voices shaking the very earth.

"Good! Let's move out!"

Before Lin Xuan's voice even faded, he shot out like an arrow loosed from a bow.

But his method of advance was utterly bizarre.

He didn't move in a straight line. Instead, he employed the movement technique from the Nine Yin Manual, his entire body leaving indistinct afterimages on the chaotic battlefield.

He weaved through the shadows of rocks, used a corpse as cover, and then, like a falling leaf blown by the wind, he lightly floated over an area riddled with traps.

Not a single arrow or flying stone on the battlefield could touch the hem of his clothes. His speed was extreme, yet it produced no sound of cutting through the air, as if he wasn't running but "blinking" through the cracks of darkness.

The fifty elite disciples, all of whom possessed sharp eyesight, were now horrified. They strained with all their might, using every skill they had ever learned, yet could only barely keep pace with Lin Xuan, daring not to slacken in the slightest.

This elite strike force moved like a venomous snake lurking in the deep sea, silently, yet with astonishing speed, pouncing on its unsuspecting prey.

They bypassed the most intense areas of engagement, cutting in from the flank of the battlefield, up a steep slope covered in corpses and the remains of warhorses, an area almost completely overlooked by everyone else.

"Pfft!"

A Mongol sentry on watch, just beginning to sense something was amiss, hadn't even had time to issue a warning before a flash of green sword light, like a viper's tongue, flickered past from the shadows behind him, precisely severing his windpipe.

Lin Xuan's figure passed by without even pausing.

The Huashan disciples following closely behind immediately stepped forward, silently dragging the corpse into the darkness.

The entire process was fluid and seamless, their coordination reaching the peak of perfection.

Lin Xuan led the way, like a god of death from hell. The ordinary steel longsword in his hand had transformed into the most efficient killing tool.

His sword never missed. Whether it was a stab to the throat, a pierce through the heart, or a slash across the neck, each strike was simple, precise, and fatal. Any enemy blocking his path, whether an obvious guard or a hidden sentry, was silently eliminated in an instant.

And the fifty people behind him were like fifty sharp scalpels, silently and efficiently cleaning up all loose ends.

Their eyes were filled with awe for Lin Xuan. They had never imagined that killing could possess such "artistry."

In the time it took for a single stick of incense to burn, this ghost-like team had stealthily advanced nearly two hundred feet, unseen and unheard, successfully flanking the enemy command tent from the rear.

This was the weakest point in Bolton's defense. In his estimation, no Central Plains army could possibly traverse the battlefield he considered a deadly meat grinder to reach this place.

At this moment, Luo Bing's pressure had reached its limit.

Of the companions by her side, fewer than thirty remained, all wounded, forming a small circle, engaged in a desperate last stand.

The Mandarin Duck Blades in her hands were chipped from too many blows, her tiger's mouth had long since split open, blood soaking the hilts. Her proud chest rose and fell violently with her ragged breaths, a breathtaking sight. Yet, her eyes remained bright as stars, filled with unyielding fighting spirit.

Just as she was about to despair, a very faint, very subtle bird call suddenly reached her ears.

That was... Lin Xuan's pre-arranged signal for the general attack!

Luo Bing's spirit surged. She used all her strength to let out a clear, sharp cry: "Brothers! Young Master Lin's grand plan has succeeded! Follow me, let's make one last desperate charge, kill—!"

This cry was like a shot of adrenaline, injected into the hearts of all the remaining skilled fighters. They unleashed their final reserves of strength, following Luo Bing like arrows ablaze with the fire of their lives, launching a death-defying charge towards Bolton's position!

This action immediately drew the attention of Bolton and all the personal guards around him.

"Insolent insects courting death!" Bolton sneered, drawing his golden scimitar. "Personal guards, crush them for me!"

Three hundred elite personal guards roared in unison, about to charge forward.

At this very moment, behind them, in the place they least expected, death... had arrived!

"Attack!"

Lin Xuan's icy voice was like a judgment from the deepest abyss.

He struck first, his body leaping up from behind the rocks like a roc spreading its wings. The longsword in his hand danced in the air, creating a dazzling display of sword flowers, like mercury flowing, instantly engulfing the three closest guards.

"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"

Three soft sounds, and three heads flew into the air, blood spraying!

Simultaneously, the fifty elite disciples behind him, like tigers descending from the mountain, erupted from all directions, unleashing the skills they had painstakingly honed for years upon the unsuspecting Mongol personal guards!

For a time, screams, shouts, and the sound of weapons piercing flesh erupted in a cacophony!

This sudden, fatal blow from the rear plunged these battle-hardened soldiers into immense chaos and panic. Their proud formation instantly crumbled under the enemy's elusive attacks.

Lin Xuan's target had never been these personal guards from the start.

He struck and then, without pausing, his figure flickered through the crowd several times, like a streak of green lightning, covering dozens of feet, heading straight for the black wolf flag that represented the soul of the entire army!

"Protect the General! Protect the Commander's Flag!"

A personal guard centurion was the first to react. He roared, swinging a mace, aiming to smash Lin Xuan into a pulp.

Lin Xuan didn't even look. With a backhand sword strike, he was faster.

"Ding!"

With a crisp sound, the long sword forged from fine steel, at an incredible angle, precisely struck the weakest point of the wolf-tooth club's force.

The centurion felt an immense, unstoppable force surge from the club. His tiger's mouth instantly burst open, and the heavy wolf-tooth club flew from his grasp, knocking down several of his companions behind him.

As for himself, with his guard completely down, he was pierced through the chest by the long sword of a disciple who followed closely behind.

Lin Xuan's figure had already appeared beneath the Commander's Flag.

He reached out his left hand, grabbed the cold flag pole, and unleashed his internal energy!

"Crack!"

The massive flag pole, requiring several people to embrace, was snapped in two by him out of thin air!

Lin Xuan, holding the huge black wolf flag in one hand, stood proudly in the center of the field. He revealed a cruel smile to Bolton, whose face was filled with utter horror.

"Bolton, I've taken your Commander's Flag!"

"Insolent cur! How dare you!"

Bolton's eyes turned crimson, and he looked like a madman. The capture of the Commander's Flag was a greater humiliation to an army than defeat itself!

He roared, brandishing his golden scimitar, and charged at Lin Xuan like a wounded beast.

However, he was fast, but Lin Xuan was faster!

Lin Xuan violently threw the broken flag in his hand. The massive flag, like dark clouds covering the sky, descended with immense force, smashing into the guards in front, instantly causing a scene of men and horses tumbling over each other.

He himself, using the recoil from the throw, moved as if teleporting, appearing before Bolton.

The distance between them was less than three feet.

Bolton could even see the undisguised mockery in Lin Xuan's eyes, as if he were looking at a dead man.

He had fought countless battles but had never felt such bone-chilling cold. He wanted to swing his saber, but found that his wrist, at some unknown time, had already been lightly grasped by the opponent's fingers.