"Senior Brother Zhao, forgive the offense."
Li Xiang had accepted Guo Bingfu's kindness and come here to temper himself against the foundations of true martial arts. When in a village, follow its customs. Addressing Zhao Tie as senior brother according to martial-world etiquette was only proper.
The instant the words left his mouth, the aura around Li Xiang changed.
There was none of the ethereal quality of Pure Daoist Qi, none of the mystery of Feng Shui divination. He drew solely on the power of a Martial Cultivator.
Guo Bingfu had said that the martial path prized purity. Seeking truth through martial arts was the way of true martial arts. Today, Li Xiang would use only his body and his Martial Force, both in their purest form.
Snap.
Li Xiang slid his left foot half a step forward.
Only half a step.
But as that half step landed, Zhao Tie's pupils shrank to pinpoints. In his eyes, the young man before him became a primordial beast awakening from its slumber.
There was no flashy opening stance, no needless probing. Li Xiang drew his right fist back to his waist, his spine flexed like a great dragon, and an overwhelming surge of Martial Force raced up it into his right arm.
Crushing Fist.
Among the Xingyi Five Elements, it belonged to wood and embodied growth. Its intent was an arrow piercing the heart—swift, direct, and clean.
Boom!
His punch tore through the air with a short, muffled blast.
Zhao Tie felt pressure like mountains collapsing and seas overturning rush toward him. The fist was still halfway there, but the air around him seemed to have been sucked away, leaving him struggling to breathe.
He couldn't block it.
He couldn't dodge it.
As a Martial Cultivator at the peak of the Second