"Gasp!"
As the young man's words rang through the room,
the crowd, who had been utterly silent, changed expressions in an instant.
They had thought the Young Wolf was making one last desperate bid to save himself. They never expected this bastard's appetite to be so enormous.
He wasn't interested in some minor position. He wanted an entire street!
That was simply asking for death...
To a Fierce Wolf, territory was more important than one's own parents. How could they allow someone else to covet it?
The moment anyone showed such intentions, it was a fight to the death.
Fatty Tian might have been greedy, disloyal, and a bully who preyed on the weak, but one thing outweighed all those flaws.
He was, after all, a cultivator at Mid Qi Condensation. His genuine cultivation was what gave him the confidence to rank among the Fierce Wolves!
"What the hell?"
Bai Feng stared blankly for a moment, then turned to Yan Jin beside him. He gritted his teeth and looked as though he couldn't bear to see such wasted potential.
He'd warned her long ago that this kid was trouble.
See? Just as he'd said!
"..."
Tian Jingyuan stared fixedly at the clean, pale face right in front of him. His breathing grew heavier and heavier, like muffled thunder rolling.
Of course he could tell that this Cheap Fox was deliberately provoking him, most likely with some scheme in mind.
Maybe the other party had gotten close to Silk-Pulling Wolf, which was why that woman had been able to come to the tavern and warn him earlier. Perhaps he even wanted to borrow her power to humiliate him at today's banquet.
But under everyone's watchful eyes, Tian Jingyuan had no way back.
He could lose to Yan Jin.
But this Fox had to die!
Only then could he defend his already shaky position.
"Heh heh heh—"
On the Ironwood chair, his bulky body began to tremble.
Tian Jingyuan's rage had reached its peak. He lowered his head and let out a deep, grating laugh.
In an instant, his face darkened as he rose, like a mountain of flesh rearing up. He smashed the Green Jade Pipe on the table into dust with a punch.
Crack, crack!
Vast Spiritual Power nearly solidified into mist, roaring as it swept through the room.
A short distance away, the Young Wolf's eyes filled with alarm.
The Ring-Pommel Broadsword in his arms trembled and tore free. It flashed silver through the air with a ringing clang, then dropped straight into the mountain of flesh's hand.
"You want everything, huh... Then come take it!"
Tian Jingyuan tightened his grip on the hilt and laughed wildly as he swung the blade overhead, then brought it down toward the slender figure with the force of splitting Mount Hua.
For cultivators like them, comprehending an Immortal Method depended entirely on fate. Filling in the gaps in one's arsenal was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
Sometimes, people even ended up with only an Inner Method and Spiritual Power, but no corresponding Immortal Arts to use.
So, to protect themselves, most still retained some of the fighting habits of ordinary folk.
Even so, though Fatty Tian's martial skill was far inferior to that of a martial master like Zhang Zhongping,
the Spiritual Power wrapped around his broadsword was still on a level that inner force could never reach!
The murderous blade was upon him in an instant!
"..."
Lin Shu's smile vanished, and a chill filled his calm gaze.
The moment his opponent took hold of the blade, Lin Shu's body had already reacted.
His right hand had been resting lazily on the back of the chair, but in that instant, its veins bulged and his five fingers clamped down like iron pincers!
The sturdy Ironwood chair suddenly lifted into the air. With a powerful grip, he swung it sideways and smashed it into the mountain of flesh's face.
Crack—
The Ironwood shattered, sending splinters flying.
Tian Jingyuan's massive body was knocked off balance. He staggered back several steps, and the broadsword in his hand went wide, cleaving into the tabletop instead.
Red marks covered his face. He instinctively reached up to brush the wood chips from his eyelids.
The moment his vision cleared, the figure advancing relentlessly toward him came into view.
"Rise!"
Staring into the young man's clear, dark-and-bright eyes, Tian Jingyuan suddenly felt a touch of panic.
He instinctively formed a hand seal. The fat all over his body suddenly rippled and began to contract, turning into a more even wall of flesh.
His frame was still massive, but compared to before, he looked much sturdier.
More importantly, a faint gleam radiated from the surface of that flesh wall.
The Mountain-Sitting Art was a seventh-grade Immortal Method, but during the time he'd endured hardship in Magpie Nest, Tian Jingyuan had cultivated it to the Great Accomplishment stage.
With this method protecting him, he could at least remain undefeated.
"..."
Master Mo still sat in the seat of honor. The movement he'd started to make to stand and get out of the way suddenly slowed.
Though Lin Shu had gained a small advantage, the moment the two began fighting, they had both revealed almost everything about their abilities.
If Spiritual Power was like water, then the thirty wisps of White Qi in the Young Wolf's body amounted to no more than a small pond.
By contrast, Tian Jingyuan's Spiritual Power was nearly twice as abundant!
With such a huge gap, he could wear Lin Shu down even if he did it slowly.
Sure enough.
With the Mountain-Sitting Art bolstering him, Tian Jingyuan quickly steadied himself.
He swiftly pulled out his broadsword. In his mind, he recalled Zhang Zhongping's earnest instruction. These were the skills of a Great Martial Master, paired with his own abundant Spiritual Power.
There was simply no reason he could lose!
At the thought, murderous intent surged across his fleshy face. Gripping the broadsword with both hands, he brought it down diagonally once more, its path treacherous and hard to predict!
The raging Spiritual Power burst out with a piercing hum.
At that moment, the people in the room inexplicably froze for an instant, feeling a faint chill creep over them.
Under the dual pressure of Tian Jingyuan's vast Spiritual Power and burly frame,
Lin Shu's clothes whipped wildly around him, making his slender build seem even thinner, as though he might be swept off his feet at any moment.
Facing the blade head-on, he showed no intention of dodging.
Whoosh.
Black Qi surged and swept upward.
The young man seemed to raise his arm casually. His gaze turned fierce, and he slammed his fist forward with brutal force!
Boom!!
Black Qi wrapped around his fingers and roared forward with his punch, accompanied by a wolf's howl that shook the soul.
The Ring-Pommel Broadsword shattered down the middle. Half the blade flew away, flashing through the air before embedding itself in the Ironwood table with a crack.
Lin Shu's fist passed the broken blade, its momentum still ferocious, and slammed straight into Tian Jingyuan's chest.
Crack, crack, crack!
The wall of flesh rippled. The faint gleam across it shattered like glass, and then the flesh itself was torn apart by the brutal force of the punch.
The Immortal Method Tian Jingyuan relied on failed to buy him even a single breath before it was effortlessly broken through.
Master Mo's judgment might not have been wrong.
In terms of endurance, Lin Shu really was far weaker.
But Spiritual Power could only display its true effect through concrete methods.
No matter how sturdy the tofu, it couldn't stop a steel blade. Besides, this piece of tofu wasn't all that thick to begin with.
Against the Ghost Moon Bone-Splitting Hand, which had already reached the fifth grade, Fatty Tian seemed to have no way to drag Lin Shu into a battle of attrition.
His fist crashed down like a mountain collapsing.
Tian Jingyuan watched helplessly as his chest and belly were ripped open like a cloth sack. His Spiritual Power was rapidly being drained as well, all to maintain the fragile Mountain-Sitting Art.
Excruciating pain flooded his mind. His bulky figure stumbled backward. He instinctively dropped the broken blade, fished a pill from his waist, and tried to shove it into his mouth.
"You're still trying to eat?"
Lin Shu grabbed the fat man by the mouth. As he watched in terror, Lin Shu's other hand sank into his flesh.
Then, both arms exerted force at once, flipping the mountain of flesh over his shoulder and smashing him hard onto the table!
Crash!
The heavy Ironwood table shuddered and split. Fine cracks spread rapidly across its surface.
Tian Jingyuan's head spun. His organs felt as though they'd been knocked out of place, and his thick shoulder struck the table's edge with a dull crack of breaking bone.
Like a fat fish, he slid off the table and slumped against it, gasping for breath.
Just then, the fat man let out another pained groan.
Lin Shu's expression was indifferent as he raised his foot and planted his boot hard on Tian Jingyuan's chest, pinning the mountain of flesh back down just as he tried to rise.
He casually picked up the broken blade, now only half its original length.
"No!"
The cold gleam stabbed at Tian Jingyuan's eyes, and he finally realized what was happening.
He hurriedly raised both arms, palms pressed hard against his double chin and fleshy cheeks.
"Be good and move your hands."
Lin Shu lowered his gaze. His voice carried a gentle warmth that somehow sent a shiver down the spine. "Those belong to me."
At that, Tian Jingyuan froze, trembling all over.
Your things? What things of yours?
Before he could figure it out, the broken blade suddenly fell.
Splurt!
A crimson wave of blood burst out, staining the gleaming Ironwood.
Lin Shu tore off the round object and casually tossed it onto the table.
Tap, tap.
The head, still slick with warm blood, rolled across the tabletop.
Tian Jingyuan's eyes were wide open, his mouth stretched in a terrified grimace. His head rolled slowly onward, its face reflected in the eyes of everyone in the room.
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