The First Use of the Poison Palm (1 / 2)

No amount of talk would help. Nothing could reveal an opponent—or oneself—better than a fight, and both brothers thought the same way.

The courtyard where his elder brother lived was not large, but it was more than enough for the two of them to fight. After all, this was only a spar.

"Big brother, watch out!"

They stood in front of the main room, only a step apart. Once Zhao Er saw his elder brother set down the deer leg, he gave that warning and immediately attacked.

"Whoosh!"

With a faint whistle through the air, Zhao Er's hand shot toward his elder brother Zhao Da's eyes.

Aside from his opening warning, Zhao Er made no unnecessary movements. He opened with Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue, a killing move from the Five Poisons Fist, thrusting straight at his elder brother's eyes from the outset.

Zhao Er was not deliberately fighting dirty. This was simply how he understood real combat. If his elder brother could not even handle this, there would be no point in continuing the spar.

Zhao Er's hand was fast. In the blink of an eye, his fingertips were already before his elder brother's eyes.

But Zhao Da had practiced martial arts for years. Almost instinctively, he tilted his head aside before danger reached him, simultaneously raising a hand to seize Zhao Er's wrist.

Yet Zhao Er's Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue withdrew as quickly as it struck. The moment it missed, his hand pulled straight back.

Nor was Zhao Er's attack an isolated strike. His Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue was a probe, but it also served to obstruct Zhao Da's vision.

As his right hand performed Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue, his left slipped into action, striking silently at Zhao Da's chest.

Though Zhao Er had little actual combat experience, he was a transmigrator, with a broad and varied store of knowledge. Such basic martial principles as combining feints with real attacks and threatening high while striking low came readily to him.

Smack!

His palm struck Zhao Da's chest. Had this been a fight to the death, Zhao Er would certainly have injected the toxins in his body on impact. But this was a spar, and the man before him was his own elder brother, so his palm carried no poison.

The force within his palm, however, was far from slight.

Yet the strike failed to drive Zhao Da back. His palm landed on Zhao Da's chest as though it had struck tough leather, and its force vanished like a stone sinking into the sea.

Caught off guard, Zhao Da took the palm strike. Though unhurt, he instantly grew serious. He raised his right hand and drove his fist upward, knocking Zhao Er's palm aside.

At the same time, the hand that had reached for Zhao Er's wrist changed from a claw to a fist and swept fiercely toward his head.

Zhao Er shifted both palms to block, then wound them straight around Zhao Da's arms the instant their limbs met. This was Spider Entangling Hands from the Five Poisons Fist.

But his arms had barely wrapped around them when Zhao Da thrust both elbows outward, giving Zhao Er no chance to secure a hold.

Grappling involved joint locks, a contest not merely of technique but of strength. Zhao Da's strength was in no way inferior to Zhao Er's—it was even greater—so he easily broke free of Zhao Er's hold.

Having broken Zhao Er's Spider Entangling Hands, Zhao Da brought his arms inward and hammered his fists toward Zhao Er's shoulder and flank.

The Five Poisons Fist Zhao Er practiced really had only three offensive moves. His first move, Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue, had struck Zhao Da, but unfortunately, Zhao Da apparently cultivated both internally and externally. His body's defenses were astonishing, and the attack had achieved nothing.

Spider Entangling Hands had been broken before he could fully execute it, leaving it no chance to take effect. As Zhao Da's fists descended, he could only retreat and look for an opening to use Scorpion Tail Sweep.

In the blink of an eye, the brothers had exchanged several moves. Unlike Zhao Er, who relied on surprise and speed to win, Zhao Da's techniques were balanced and steady, every strike straightforward and aboveboard.

Moreover, Zhao Da seemed to cultivate both internally and externally. Not only were his bodily defenses astonishing, but his punches carried tremendous weight and power.

After only a few exchanges, once Zhao Er's surprise attacks failed, he had already fallen behind in the spar.

"All right, let's stop here!"

After Zhao Er retreated, Zhao Da did not pursue him. Instead, he too took a step back, bringing the spar to an end.

"You really have broken through to the Blood Condensation Realm, little brother, but..."

Once they stopped, Zhao Da looked at Zhao Er with a slight frown, seemingly considering how to speak without discouraging him.

"Are you trying to say my punches aren't powerful enough, big brother?"

Seeing his elder brother hesitate, Zhao Er bluntly stated his own shortcoming.

Although his Five Poisons Fist had leveled up and his force had become much more concentrated, the improvement was relatively limited. It worked against ordinary martial artists, but against someone like his elder brother, who cultivated both internally and externally, its true colors were immediately exposed.

"That's right. This is precisely the weakness of an unconventional method like the Five Poisons Art. Using poison in place of cultivation resources certainly has its merits, but the force of your punches still isn't as refined as ours, honed through relentless practice day and night."

Since Zhao Er had brought up his weakness himself, Zhao Da no longer had any reason to skirt around it. He continued along that line, then added a concerned suggestion:

"Little brother, why don't you switch to orthodox martial arts? You're talented and smarter than I am. If you switched to orthodox martial arts, you'd surely cultivate faster than me, too."

"Big brother, why don't you test the force of this move first?"

Zhao Er neither agreed nor refused, offering that suggestion with a smile instead.

The words had barely left his mouth when Zhao Er attacked again with the same Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue. This time, however, he no longer targeted Zhao Da's eyes, but struck straight at his chest.

Tap, tap, tap!

Zhao Er's fingers tapped Zhao Da's chest three times in succession, each faster than the last. Yet every strike carried very little force, withdrawing almost as soon as it touched.

"So you were holding back earlier. The speed of this move really is... hmm?"

Zhao Da watched Zhao Er's Spirit Snake Flicking Tongue. It was faster than before, and three strikes in succession could indeed prove useful against an opponent caught off guard. Yet midway through his assessment, he suddenly noticed something wrong.

Zhao Da abruptly pulled open his clothes, exposing the spots on his chest that Zhao Er's fingers had just lightly tapped.

All three spots had become red and swollen. And it was not merely swelling—Zhao Da felt as though something had bitten those places, leaving an intense burning sensation.

That burning came with severe pain, completely bypassing his tough skin as it bored steadily deeper into his body.

The fierce pain in his chest made Zhao Da bare his teeth. He then mobilized the Blood-Energy Force within his body, sending it surging toward those three swollen spots.

A martial artist's Blood-Energy Force could not only regulate his own blood and energy, but also disperse force an enemy had driven into his body.

Yet... only when Zhao Da used his blood and energy to expel that strange force from his chest did he discover how tenacious it was.

There were clearly only three wisps of force, yet he had to commit all his Blood-Energy Force to encircling and crushing them before he finally expelled them from his body.

"Phew... little brother, what that move carried wasn't force, but poison?"

Looking at the three darkened drops of poisoned blood he had forced out of his chest and the swelling that still had not subsided, Zhao Da dabbed a finger in the blood and sniffed it. Then he looked at Zhao Er, his eyes filled with shock.