Slay the Mountain-Sitting Wolf!

"Hiss!"

As the young man's voice echoed through the room, the expressions of the hall members, previously silent and still, shifted instantly.

They had assumed the young wolf was making a final, desperate attempt to save himself, but they had never imagined his appetite would be this insatiable.

He had no interest in some menial errand; he wanted an entire street!

It was, quite simply, a death wish.

To Fierce Wolf, territory was more important than his own parents; how could he tolerate anyone coveting it?

Anyone who even hinted at such intentions would face an endless, life-or-death struggle.

Fatty Tian might be pathologically greedy, disloyal, and a bully to the weak, but one fact outweighed all these flaws.

He was, after all, a cultivator at the middle stage of Qi Refining; that solid, tangible cultivation was the foundation of his status among the Fierce Wolves!

"What is he doing?"

Bai Feng froze for a moment, then looked toward Yan Jin beside him, gritting his teeth with an expression of exasperation.

He had warned her long ago that this kid was no pushover.

Look at that—just as he had expected!

"..."

Tian Jingyuan stared fixedly at the fair, clean face inches from his own, his breathing growing heavy and ragged, like the rolling of muffled thunder.

He could certainly see that this cunning fox was deliberately provoking him, likely hiding some scheme.

Perhaps the brat had hooked up with Silk-Pulling Wolf, which explained why he could get that woman to come to the tavern and issue a warning, and now he wanted to use her influence to humiliate him at today's banquet.

But with everyone watching, Tian Jingyuan had no path of retreat left.

He could afford to lose to Yan Jin.

But this fox had to die!

Only then could he defend his already precarious position.

"Heh, heh, heh—"

On the Ironwood chair, his massive, obese frame began to tremble.

Tian Jingyuan's rage had reached its peak, and he lowered his head, emitting a low, rasping laugh like a broken gong.

In an instant, his face darkened as he rose, looming like a mountain of flesh, and he smashed his fist down, pulverizing the Green Jade Pipe on the table into dust.

Crack!

A surge of immense spiritual energy condensed into near-solid mist, howling as it ravaged the room.

The young wolf not far away showed a flash of alarm in his eyes.

The Ring-Pommel Broadsword he had been clutching in his arms suddenly vibrated, breaking free from his grip. It streaked through the air with a silver flash and a metallic clang, landing squarely in the hands of the mountain of flesh.

"You want everything, do you... then come and take it!!"

Tian Jingyuan gripped the hilt, laughing maniacally as he swung the blade over his head, hacking down toward the thin figure before him with the force of a mountain-splitting strike.

For cultivators like them, enlightenment in immortal arts was a matter of fate; trying to master a full repertoire of techniques was as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Sometimes, they even found themselves possessing internal spiritual energy but lacking the corresponding immortal arts to channel it.

Thus, most people retained the habits of common mortals to defend themselves.

Yet, even so, even if Fatty Tian's martial arts prowess was far inferior to a master like Zhang Zhongping, the spiritual energy wrapped around his long blade was still a level of power that internal force could never hope to reach.

The murderous blade arrived in an instant!

"..."

Lin Shu put away his smile, his calm gaze turning icy.

The moment the man gripped his sword, Lin Shu's body had already reacted.

His right hand, which had been resting lazily on the back of the chair, suddenly bulged with veins, his fingers clamping down like iron pincers!

The sturdy Ironwood chair soared into the air, and with a powerful heave, he smashed it horizontally into the face of the mountain of flesh.

Snap—

The Ironwood shattered, and splinters flew everywhere.

Tian Jingyuan's massive body was knocked off balance, staggering back several steps, his long blade veering off course to slam into the table instead.

His face was covered in red welts, and he instinctively reached up to wipe the wood shards from his eyelids.

As his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the figure closing in on him step by step.

"Rise!"

Staring into the young man's clear, black-and-white eyes, Tian Jingyuan suddenly felt a flicker of panic.

He instinctively formed a hand seal, his entire body of fat suddenly rippling and contracting, transforming into a more even wall of flesh.

He still appeared massive, but compared to before, he seemed much sturdier.

More importantly, the surface of the flesh wall actually emitted a faint, shimmering glow.

Though the Mountain-Sitting Art was only a seventh-grade immortal technique, Tian Jingyuan had already cultivated it to the perfected stage during his arduous time in Magpie Nest.

With this technique protecting him, he could at least secure an unassailable position.

"..."

Master Mo remained seated in the main seat, his initial movement to stand and evade suddenly slowing.

Despite Lin Shu gaining a slight advantage, in the instant the two clashed, their true capabilities were almost entirely revealed.

If spiritual energy were water, the thirty wisps of white energy on the young wolf could at most be considered a small pond.

In contrast, Tian Jingyuan's spiritual energy was nearly twice as potent as his opponent's!

Such a vast disparity meant he could be worn down and killed even by slow attrition.

As expected.

Under the enhancement of the Mountain-Sitting Art, Tian Jingyuan immediately stabilized his mind.

He swiftly drew his long saber, recalling Zhang Zhongping's earnest teachings. This was a skill inherited from a Great Martial Master, combined with his own formidable spiritual energy.

There was simply no reason to lose!

With this thought, a ferocious killing intent surged onto his plump face. He gripped the long saber with both hands and, with a tricky trajectory, slashed diagonally once more!

The rampant spiritual energy erupted with a piercing hum.

At this moment, the disciples in the hall were inexplicably stunned for a moment, feeling a chill creep over them.

Under the dual pressure of Tian Jingyuan's vast spiritual energy and his robust physique.

Lin Shu's clothes billowed, making him appear even more gaunt, as if he could be blown away at any moment.

Facing the blade head-on, however, he showed no intention of dodging.

Chih.

Black energy surged and swept upwards.

The youth casually raised his arm, his eyes fierce, and then ferociously slammed his fist forward!

BOOM!!

Black energy wrapped around his fingers, roaring out with his punch, even accompanied by a soul-stirring wolf's howl.

The Ring-Pommel Broadsword was shattered in the middle, half of the blade flying out and slicing through the air, embedding itself into the Ironwood table with a crack.

Lin Shu's fist passed the broken blade, its momentum still incredibly fierce, and slammed directly into Tian Jingyuan's chest.

Crack crack crack!

The flesh wall vibrated, the faint glow within it shattering like glass, and then the flesh and blood were brutally torn apart by the force of the punch.

The immortal technique Tian Jingyuan relied on couldn't even buy him a single breath before it was easily broken.

Master Mo's judgment might have been correct.

In terms of endurance, Lin Shu was indeed at a disadvantage.

But spiritual energy ultimately required specific methods to unleash its true potential.

No matter how thick the tofu, it couldn't block a steel blade, and this tofu wasn't particularly thick to begin with.

Facing the Ghost Moon Bone-Splitting Hand, which had already reached fifth-grade, Fatty Tian seemed incapable of dragging him into a war of attrition.

His fist was like a collapsing mountain.

Tian Jingyuan watched with wide eyes as his chest and abdomen were ripped apart like a sack, his spiritual energy rapidly depleting to maintain the fragile Mountain-Sitting Art.

Intense pain flooded his mind. His plump figure staggered backward, instinctively dropping the broken saber and fumbling for a pill from his waist, shoving it into his mouth.

"Still eating?"

Lin Shu slapped his hand over the fatty's mouth, and under his terrified gaze, his other hand plunged into the man's flesh.

Then, with both arms exerting force, he directly flipped the mountain of flesh over his shoulder and slammed it onto the table!

BOOM!

The thick Ironwood table shuddered and cracked, fine fissures spreading rapidly.

Tian Jingyuan was dizzy, feeling as if his internal organs had shifted. His thick shoulder struck the corner of the table with a dull bone-cracking sound.

He slid off the table like a fat fish, leaning back and gasping for breath.

Just then, the fatty let out another pained groan.

Lin Shu's expression was indifferent as he raised his foot and forcefully stomped on the man's chest with his boot, pinning the rising mountain of flesh firmly back down.

He casually picked up the broken blade that was only half intact.

"No!"

Tian Jingyuan's eyes were stung by the cold glint, and he finally realized what was happening.

He hurriedly raised his arms, his palms pressing hard against his jowls and cheeks, which were piled high with layers of fat.

"Be a good boy and take your hands away."

Lin Shu lowered his gaze, his voice carrying a trace of inexplicable, chilling gentleness: "That belongs to me."

Upon hearing this, Tian Jingyuan trembled all over, frozen in place.

Yours? What exactly is yours?

Before he could figure it out, the broken blade descended in a flash.

Squelch!

A wave of scarlet blood sprayed out, staining the gleaming Ironwood.

Lin Shu tore off that round object and tossed it casually onto the table.

Clack, clack.

The head, still slick with warm blood, rolled across the tabletop.

Tian Jingyuan's wide-eyed, gaping expression of terror rolled slowly into view, reflecting in the pupils of everyone in the room.