"Brother, are you really going to make an enemy of the Five Tigers of the Zhao Family?"
"I'm afraid the price you'll pay will be more than you can bear."
Zhao Tiandu narrowed his eyes and spoke in a low voice.
Anyone who knew him well would have realized that he was already furious.
"It's not like there's no room for negotiation~"
Mu Chen raised a hand and pointed at the silver-haired girl, who stood apart from the world. His tone was firm. "I'm taking her with me. Hand her over, and I, Mu, will leave."
Zhao Tiandu, who had just begun to look pleased, immediately darkened.
The Zhao Family Fierce Tiger whose thumb had been severed earlier could no longer hold back. He clenched his fists and stepped forward, itching for a fight. "Big brother, since he's asking to die, then let's—"
"Boom!!!"
Everyone's vision blurred. Before they could even make out what had happened, a tearing gust of wind swept past, and A-Liang, the Zhao Family Fierce Tiger, flew backward like a rag doll.
Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were shut, and he lay limp on the ground, his life or death unknown.
"I hate rude people the most."
Holding the battle staff in one hand, Mu Chen stood where the man had been moments ago and spoke softly.
The Zhao Family's fierce tigers stared at the scene, stunned and enraged.
They were enraged because the boy was far too audacious, daring to start a fight.
They were stunned because their third brother, a half-step Level 6 cultivator whose body-tempering skills were almost the best among them, couldn't withstand a single blow from Mu Chen. What sort of person was he?
"A-Liang!!"
Zhao Tiandu was the first to react. He let out a long roar and lunged forward, striking with both bare hands.
The other three tigers had bloodshot eyes and attacked with murderous intent.
"Clang!"
At that moment, the silver-haired girl moved.
Without a word, she drew her black longsword and twisted her lithe body, sending countless sword-flower patterns dancing through the air as she charged at Zhao Tiandu, the strongest of the Five Tigers of the Zhao Family.
"Ahhh! Get away from me! Tiger Form Fist!"
No matter how furiously Zhao Tiandu attacked, the girl fought on without retreating.
She was creating an opening for Mu Chen!
Who said the Imperial Princess of the Luo God Clan was cold and aloof?
Look at her now—she was taking the initiative!
Mu Chen caught sight of this from the corner of his eye and joined the fight with a loud laugh.
He drew in his chest and straightened his back, sinking his qi into his dantian. With a single thrust of his staff, he smashed aside the combined attack of two opponents.
He bent his body, every muscle surging with power, then sprang like a nimble leopard several yards away. Sticking close to the face of another tiger, he launched a flurry of close-range strikes, his arms swinging with supple yet powerful force.
The man Mu Chen had deliberately chosen as his breakthrough point was the weakest of the Five Tigers of the Zhao Family.
When someone who seemed to be a King-level expert suddenly closed in on him, panic took hold. His hurried movements went awry, and his attacks lost much of their power.
Mu Chen spotted an opening and smashed the man in the head with Black Dragon Coils Around Pillar.
Blood welled from the man's brow. He swayed stiffly a few times, then toppled to the ground. The light of life rapidly faded from his eyes, making him the first to die in the battle.
"Fifth brother!"
"Fifth brother!"
The two Zhao tigers who had been knocked back by a staff blow were about to rush to his aid when they witnessed the tragedy. Stricken with grief, they cried out again and again, their voices choked with blood and tears.
"Ah, you demon! Give me back my fifth brother's life!"
Having watched one old comrade die and another fall, the two Zhao tigers let their bandit nature take over. Their blood ran hot, and they fought with reckless abandon, willing to trade their lives for a wound. They were ferocious beyond measure.
Grief for one's own kind—there was no better example.
"Oh, so the Five Dogs of the Zhao Family, who take pleasure in ambushing the old and weak and abusing the sick and disabled, have feelings after all. They can even shed tears of grief?"
Mu Chen wasn't the least bit intimidated by their ferocity. Instead, he sneered.
Demon-Subduing Staff Technique, first move: White Ape Exits Cave!
This was a staff-bracing technique: when the heavens threatened to fall, the staff held them up.
Mu Chen swept his staff out. His black hair fell over his shoulders, his chest thrust out and back straight, his face alight with confidence. His sharp cry rang like spring thunder bursting from his tongue, carrying the majesty of an enraged Buddhist guardian.
Thud! The staff collided with flesh.
The burly Zhao Family Fierce Tiger who charged at him stumbled, and a vivid bloodstain immediately appeared across his chest. It was a divine weapon, after all—a weapon of supreme quality.
Unexpectedly, the vicious man's temper flared again. Instead of retreating, he surged forward, his muscular arms coiling like dragons as he reached out and clamped both hands around the ancient battle staff.
"Hahaha, heaven is truly helping me!"
The other Zhao Family Fierce Tiger was overjoyed at the sight.
They had fought shoulder to shoulder for so long that their teamwork was seamless and their minds in sync.
Just as the first man grabbed the Demon-Subduing Staff with both hands, the other clasped his fists together and, fearless of death, charged his body straight at Mu Chen, whose hands were empty.
A spray of blood shot skyward. The next moment, the fierce tiger felt a chill at his neck. His eyes bulged as he tried to touch the deadly wound.
Another flash of cold light swept past, slicing his entire head apart.
Thump. Several sprays of blood gushed from the headless corpse, and it collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
"Hmm, this Spirit Soldier really is sharp."
Mu Chen held a snow-white dagger and narrowed his eyes in appreciation.
Back then, Wu Yingying had tried to assassinate him with this dagger, but he had seized the opportunity to take it.
How could something used by the direct descendants of the Five Great Academies' leaders be anything but exceptional?
Though it was inferior to the quasi-divine weapon, the enormous Crescent Moon Blade, it was still a rare High-grade Spirit Artifact, more than capable of cleaving through steel.
"What are you staring at? Who said you're only allowed to use one Spirit Soldier?"
Mu Chen glared at the stunned Four Tigers of the Zhao Family.
Taking advantage of the man's distraction and loosened grip, he yanked the Demon-Subduing Staff free, stepped forward swiftly, and switched from the staff to his palm.
The Four Tigers of the Zhao Family snapped back to his senses and reached for the staff again.
But the ancient battle staff had already been withdrawn, its insubstantial form turning solid again. Mu Chen struck with Striding Tiger Ascends Mountain.
Thud! A muffled sound rang out, and the fierce tiger was sent flying backward once more.
"They're dead. They're all dead. Heh heh..."
"Second and fifth are dead, and third won't last much longer. We're all going to die!"
The Four Tigers of the Zhao Family had lost his last precious chance to turn the tide.
Seeing that defeat was inevitable, he simply gave up. One moment he was laughing, the next he was crying.
Mu Chen had no intention of showing him the slightest mercy.
Strike while he's down and take his life!
He immediately twisted at the waist and hips, swinging his staff in a level sweep from the left, aiming straight for the man's vulnerable lower back. The light of the staff curled around him. This was the Waist-Level Sweeping Technique!
The Four Tigers of the Zhao Family, his Battle Will already gone, didn't dodge. He let the staff send him flying and laughed uproariously.
He was clearly seeking death.
"Mu Chen, you villain, how dare you!"
On the other battlefield, Zhao Tiandu saw everything from afar, his eyes nearly splitting with rage.
It was as if a ball of fury were blazing inside his chest. His whole body burned with heat, and his might was fierce enough to scorch the heavens, boil the seas, and burn the earth.
"Tiger Form Fist, Tiger Bone!"
An endless fury overwhelmed Zhao Tiandu.
Facing the resentful attack of a half-step King, the silver-haired girl tightened her grip on her black longsword. Her bosom rose and fell, but her clear, limpid eyes remained calm.
Luo God Sword Art, One Sword Transforms into Luo Water!
The supreme Imperial Princess of the Luo God Clan held the sword her ancestor had left behind, her light steps carrying her as she suddenly brought down this strike, gathering all her convictions into it.
At that very moment, the girl caught sight of the tall figure withdrawing his staff from the corner of her eye. At his feet lay a burly corpse, sprawled in silence as blood streamed down.
The Four Tigers of the Zhao Family was dead!
He really is strong.
The silver-haired girl, clever and gentle by nature, silently said to herself.
P.S. I've been thinking, and there are a few things I want to say.
For many chapters now, there's been a reader—I don't know if I should even call him a reader—who's been leaving snide, sarcastic comments in the chapter reviews. Maybe he thinks my writing is awful. In any case, he keeps criticizing me, following along and taking shots at me.
My writing is awful. I admit it, and I'm willing to lie flat and take the mockery.
But what I mean is, we don't have to make things so difficult for each other.
People read for fun, after all. If you don't like my book, just delete it and move on.
Qidian is full of writers better than me—authors with premium titles, ten-thousand-subscription hits, and even platinum status. Why pick on a flop like me, who can't even get a thousand subscribers? Right? You don't like it, but you keep reading. You like it, but you keep making sarcastic remarks.
Honestly, I'm a useless nobody. This is the best I can do, and I can't change it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been flopping for so long. If you keep making snide comments from the day I start writing until I finish the book, will that improve my writing? No.
So if you want to read, enjoy yourself. If you'd like, you can even toss me a vote, and I'll bow in thanks.
If you don't want to read, just delete the book and move on. You can even curse me out as a hopeless flop and call me a trash author on your way out. I won't say a word in response. It's true, after all.
But—but could we please stop torturing each other?
You read, I write. We're both just trying to have a good time. There's really no need to make each other miserable.
I posted this chapter early. I don't feel like writing anymore, so I'm going out for a walk.
Before you continue