Offal Martial Saint

"Senior Brother Ma, magnificent!"

"I had long heard of Senior Brother Ma's great name. Seeing you today, you truly are extraordinary."

"..."

The crowd began clamoring, their momentum no less boisterous than the Golden Saber Sect's earlier uproar.

Ma Mingfei wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and cupped his fists toward Zhang Yan. "I did not fail my mission."

Zhang Yan hurried forward to support him and asked about his injuries. Ma Mingfei said, "I am unharmed."

At this point, two rounds of the battle had passed, with each side claiming one victory.

Whether they could take the medicine away depended on this final match.

Chen Kong gave a cold smile and turned to look at the Golden Saber Sect disciples. Suddenly, a youth stepped forward.

He wore plain clothes, with a black sash at his waist and a cold, stern expression.

The moment the youth appeared, the atmosphere on the Golden Saber Sect's side clearly changed. The voices that had fallen silent after Xu Zhen's defeat surged back to life.

"Junior Brother Song is making his move."

"This round is secure."

"I'm afraid no one from Celebration Hall will dare accept the challenge."

"..."

The young man appeared to possess an enormous reputation. The moment he entered the field, not only did the Golden Saber Sect begin discussing him, but Celebration Hall also erupted into chatter.

"Song Que! The Golden Saber Sect Master's nephew."

"This man is famous far and wide, said to be versed in all eighteen martial arts."

"With his family background, breaking through would not have been difficult. Yet he insisted on laying a solid foundation and forcibly remained at Skin Tempering First Layer for over a year."

Before the murmurs faded, Chen Kong called out loudly, "Zhang Yan, what are you dawdling for? Where is your man?"

"Song Que still hasn't broken through to the second layer?"

Zhang Yan glared at Chen Kong and shouted.

Chen Kong smiled. "Won't we know after a fight? We set the rules together, Brother Zhang. Surely you aren't going back on your word?"

Zhang Yan groaned inwardly. With Song Que's foundation, he was certainly not someone an ordinary Skin Tempering First Layer martial artist could defeat.

With matters having reached this point, Zhang Yan had no choice. He had already selected a disciple named Ding Yuan.

Although the other side had sent out Song Que, while they were sending Ding Yuan, the odds of victory were practically nonexistent. Still, he could only treat a dead horse as if it were alive.

Just as Zhang Yan was about to speak, Ding Yuan stepped out from the crowd and cupped his fists toward him. "Senior Brother Zhang, please hear me out. Song Que's reputation is too great. I know I am likely no match for him.

"This battle concerns the ownership of the medicinal ingredients. If I go out and lose, that would be a small matter, but if the ingredients are lost, I cannot bear that responsibility. I ask Senior Brother to judge wisely."

Zhang Yan stood there dumbfounded. He had never imagined that Ding Yuan would lack even the courage to fight. This was troublesome now.

Defeat would certainly mean grievous losses.

But if they could not even find someone willing to fight, then once word spread, Celebration Hall's reputation would fall to the ground. How would he face his master afterward?

A chill flashed through Zhang Yan's eyes, and Ding Yuan hurriedly shrank back into the crowd.

Zhang Yan swept his gaze around, and everyone avoided his eyes.

Deng Qing looked at his nose, his nose at his heart, thinking to himself, I wouldn't go either. There is no benefit in winning, while losing could mean getting injured. If things go badly, I might even end up taking the blame. No matter how I count it, this is a losing deal.

As he was calculating, Fan Sheng came over and said in a low voice, "Junior Brother Deng, putting steadiness first is certainly good. But when it is time to gamble, you must gamble once.

"I have thought a great deal about that matter at North Warehouse.

"Even if that fellow was injured, he was not someone an ordinary Skin Tempering First Layer martial artist could take down."

At this point, Fan Sheng pulled Deng Qing aside and whispered, "Because of you, I have this black robe today. Naturally, I hope you can remain at Celebration Hall. The opportunity is here now. You must seize it."

Deng Qing said quietly, "Song Que's reputation is too great. I do not know his true capabilities. If I rashly enter the fight and damage my foundation, it would be far too disadvantageous."

Fan Sheng nodded. "What you say makes sense, but this is not a private fight. You would be fighting on Celebration Hall's behalf, and the hall will provide protection."

Deng Qing's thoughts spun a thousand times. "If there is protection, I am willing to fight. But it would be best if Senior Brother Zhang stated the hall's promise openly."

It was not that Deng Qing believed Song Que could not be defeated. Rather, after weighing the risks and rewards, he felt it was not worth it.

If Celebration Hall was willing to back him up, he could take some risks.

For one, he truly needed supplementary medicine to break through his realm.

For another, he wanted to see just how powerful Tiger-Subduing Fist at over seventy percent truly was.

Fan Sheng patted Deng Qing on the shoulder. "Wait here."

After saying that, he circled back to Zhang Yan's side and spoke to him quietly for a few moments.

After listening, Zhang Yan glanced at Deng Qing.

At this moment, he had no other choice. Moreover, Fan Sheng had always been steady and reliable, so he should not be suggesting a rotten idea.

With that thought, he took a deep breath and said, "Whoever fights today will be fighting to win glory for Celebration Hall.

"The victor will be credited with a great merit.

"They will receive one medicinal bath, with all supplementary materials waived, as well as a reward of ten taels of silver.

"If injured, the hall will cover the treatment.

"If defeated, there will be no blame."

The moment these words were spoken, the Skin Tempering First Layer disciples of Celebration Hall immediately stirred.

The eyes that had previously avoided Zhang Yan's gaze lifted one after another.

Fan Sheng frowned slightly. He had not expected Zhang Yan's words to stir up everyone else's greed as well. He gave Deng Qing an apologetic look.

Yet Deng Qing remained still as Mount Tai.

"Senior Brother Zhang, serving the sect is a duty from which I cannot shrink. I am willing to fight."

Ding Yuan strode forward and spoke with righteous fervor, utterly unlike his earlier cowardly avoidance of battle.

Zhang Yan gave him a cold glance. Ding Yuan's face flushed red, and he did not dare speak again.

Zhang Yan raised a hand and pointed at Deng Qing. "You!"

In an instant, everyone turned to look at Deng Qing.

Someone could not help but chuckle. "You're sending the Offal Martial Saint into battle?"

The words had barely left his mouth when he hurriedly covered it.

Wang Wei immediately turned his head and glared fiercely at the man. "Shut up! You know nothing."

The man's face reddened, and he did not dare retort.

But the Golden Saber Sect had already heard.

After hearing the words "Offal Martial Saint," Song Que gave Deng Qing an amused once-over and sneered. "Offal Martial Saint?

"Could it be that you're the fellow who broke through by eating pig offal?

"I heard that pig offal in Everjoy County has risen in price recently. Even the pig butchers on your side have been coming to our county to buy offal.

"I'd heard the title Offal Martial Saint before. So it turns out it's you."

The moment he said this, the Golden Saber Sect camp burst into roaring laughter.

"Celebration Hall truly has no one left if they're sending someone who eats pig offal into battle."

"Junior Brother Song, you'd better be careful. Don't let the smell of offal all over him choke you."

The laughter from the Golden Saber Sect grew ever more unrestrained, and the faces of the Celebration Hall disciples turned ugly.

Zhang Yan felt some regret. Had he known this would happen, he should not have sent Deng Qing out.

Deng Qing paid it no mind and walked openly into the field, cupping his fists. "Celebration Hall, Deng Qing."

Seeing that he remained unmoved by the eight winds, Song Que found it dull instead. He cupped his fists. "Golden Saber Sect, Song Que."

The moment Song Que finished speaking, his feet moved and he flashed forward.

His movement technique was light and swift. With a single sidestep, he circled to Deng Qing's side and raised a palm toward Deng Qing's shoulder.

Deng Qing sank into the stance of Tiger-Subduing Fist and blocked with his forearm. Palm and arm collided with a dull thud.

When his palm strike failed, Song Que immediately changed his palm into a claw. His five fingers hooked, and he seized toward Deng Qing's wrist.

Deng Qing sank his arm and reached out with a claw of his own, locking back at him and neatly sealing Song Que's eagle claw.

Song Que snorted coldly and swept a leg toward Deng Qing's lower body. Deng Qing sank his hips to evade it, then used one hand to block Song Que's elbow and sweep at him in turn.

In the brief span of ten-odd breaths, the two exchanged dozens of moves. Song Que fought with peerless grace, every move splendid to behold.

Deng Qing, meanwhile, was like a practical old farmer. There were no flashy movements, only calm responses.