Chapter 121
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Chapter 121: One-Sided Massacre
The so-called technical battle had devolved into a chaotic brawl, lacking of skill or strategy.
Zhang Yang’s fighting style was completely unorthodox, relying purely on his speed, strength, the size of his weapon, sharp eyesight, keen hearing, and quick reflexes—fundamental attributes with no trace of technical sophistication. Yet, he managed to overwhelm those who prided themselves on mastering secret techniques and intricate tactics.
He swung the Thousand Wolves Pillar with reckless abandon, sending seven hundred experts screaming, howling, and fleeing in terror.
The spectators were left utterly dumbfounded.
Liu Feijue, who had publicly announced that he would reserve all the taverns and hotels in Mo City to celebrate Zhang Yang’s imminent demise, was particularly shaken. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as he forgot all about Zhang the Con Artist, now seeing only an invincible Zhang Yang whose strength filled him with dread.
“Dear brother, how does it feel?” Liu Feikong chuckled.
Their VIP rooms were adjacent, and the shattered glass windows allowed them to stand on the windowsills, watching the battle unfold while catching glimpses of each other.
“It’s not over yet; don’t get too excited. Remember, Son Jiang Chao is also here and hasn’t made his move,” Liu Feijue hissed through clenched teeth. “Zhang Yang is only dealing with these weaklings! He’s no match for true experts! He will die! You’re bound to lose!”
Liu Feikong laughed heartily. “Then let’s wait and see. I remain confident that Zhang the Con Artist will emerge victorious.”
As soon as he finished speaking, it seemed as though Zhang Yang flipped him off.
Zhang Yang continued his relentless assault on the experts from the Golden Cauldron Sacred Land, driving them to flee in panic, unable to regroup and leverage their numbers. He then stowed the Thousand Wolves Pillar.
To cement his reputation as invincible and to bury the infamy of the Con Artist, he decided to settle the matter with his fists.
This decision immediately provoked the three great geniuses into action.
Qiu Lingshui and Gao Fenglei launched a furious assault.
Jian Wuying, too, was consumed by rage. Proud of his mastery of the marvel of the Dao, he had yet to pose any real threat to Zhang Yang. Now, he was determined to kill him.
Buzz!
The bowstring made a sharp noise.
An arrow shot into the air, seemingly vanishing into the void.
This was one of his ultimate killing techniques—Floating Kill Arrow.
The arrow was crafted from special materials, and the technique allowed it to merge with the void, making it nearly impossible to detect.
This technique left no trace and was astonishingly fast, earning its reputation as a fatal strike.
As he released the arrow, Jian Wuying charged forward, hoping to obscure its trajectory.
With Qiu Lingshui and Gao Fenglei also attacking, the Floating Kill Arrow became even harder to spot, and few spectators even noticed it.
Facing their onslaught, Zhang Yang stepped forward.
One Step of Mountains and Rivers!
His speed was extraordinary, so swift that it was almost imperceptible. His left hand shot upward into the sky.
In that instant, Zhang Yang and Gao Fenglei passed each other without contact.
Qiu Lingshui, positioned to Gao Fenglei’s right, veered off course, while Jian Wuying remained at a distance.
“Die!”
Gao Fenglei roared, forming a seal with his hands as he struck fiercely at Zhang Yang’s chest.
Poof!
Indeed, death had come—but it was Gao Fenglei who perished.
Zhang Yang’s left hand had shot upward, grasped an arrow, and driven it straight into Gao Fenglei’s forehead.
Gao Fenglei’s technique never had a chance to be unleashed.
He died with wide eyes, bewildered by the origin of the arrow.
This scene struck Jian Wuying, who was charging from behind, like a thunderclap, leaving his mind blank.
His Floating Kill Arrow had been shattered.
The fatal strike arrow he rarely used had been broken so effortlessly, and worse, his own arrow had been turned against his fellow disciple.
To Gao Fenglei’s right, Qiu Lingshui, who had been a step behind, felt her heart tremble with shock. In that fleeting moment, fear gripped her.
She realized with stark clarity that Zhang Yang’s martial arts realm must be extraordinarily high—perhaps even nearing the Ascending to Heaven realm.
“You are too weak.”
After slaying Gao Fenglei with a single arrow, Zhang Yang turned his attention to Qiu Lingshui.
Retreat!
That was the only thought in Qiu Lingshui’s mind.
Even Jian Wuying, who had been charging forward, immediately ascended into the air, swiftly drawing his bow to fire from a distance.
Zhang Yang, in response, hurled the bloodstained Floating Kill Arrow back at Jian Wuying.
He barely needed to glance at the situation.
At that moment, a wave of gasps erupted.
Jian Wuying’s draw was slower than Zhang Yang’s; the Floating Kill Arrow, thrown with seemingly little effort, reached him before he could release his own arrow.
Instinctively, Jian Wuying swung his bow to deflect the incoming arrow.
But the force behind it was overwhelming. Even Zhang Yang’s casual throw carried unmatched power, and the freezing cold radiating from the arrow instantly froze his bow, his arrows, and even his hand, rendering him unable to parry.
Poof!
The arrow pierced through him like a shooting star.
Jian Wuying clutched his chest, unable to believe—until his dying breath—that he had fallen to his own Floating Kill Arrow.
Thud!
He plummeted from the sky.
Zhang Yang didn’t even spare him a glance, continuing his relentless advance toward Qiu Lingshui.
Qiu Lingshui’s face turned ashen, her mind screaming a single thought: Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!
She was utterly terrified.
This man had reached her level; how could she possibly face him in battle?
"Qiu Lingshui, as a woman, stand and fight!"
Zhang Yang bellowed with intensity.
The onlookers, still reeling from his seamless and relentless slaughter of the prodigies from the Golden Cauldron Sacred Land, stood in stunned disbelief.
There was something unsettling about his words.
Qiu Lingshui clenched her teeth in frustration. That phrase again—how vexing!
Whoosh!
A sharp sound of something piercing the air suddenly sliced through the tension.
It came from behind Zhang Yang.
A cold, menacing voice declared:
"You dare harm the people of my Sacred Land? You shall perish!"
The assailant was none other than Jiang Chao, the Son of the Golden Cauldron Sacred Land!
Acknowledged as a genius and a master at the Ascending to Heaven first level, his prowess was beyond question.
His intervention reignited the fervor of the crowd.
Liu Feijue’s voice, brimming with exhilaration, rang out. "Let the Son kill him!"
After witnessing the deaths of Gao Fenglei and Jian Wuying, he had momentarily succumbed to despair.
He had wagered heavily in his rivalry with Liu Feikong, determined to outdo him once more.
The emergence of Jiang Chao was his beacon of hope.
Similarly, Qiu Yuwan shared his sentiment.
The two celebrated figures of the Southern Region’s intelligence community had also placed their bets.
Each had chosen differently.
Yi Ren Zui had gambled on Zhang Yang, convinced that the Con Artist would outwit and defeat his adversary, never expecting Zhang Yang to display such overwhelming might and invincibility.
Qiu Yuwan, on the other hand, had been certain of the Golden Cauldron Sacred Land’s triumph—only to be blindsided by the crushing defeat of its current generation.
Thus, Jiang Chao’s arrival once again heightened the tension for both women.
Jiang Chao, the Son, was a renowned genius in the Southern Region, his combat power widely recognized. Even though Qiu Lingshui had a slight advantage in realm, she was no match for him.
Now, with him stepping in, there was no doubt—his strikes would be ruthless, his attacks devastating.
Jiang Chao’s weapon of choice was a spear—a top-grade spiritual weapon on the verge of becoming a boundless artifact. Having wielded it for a decade, he had achieved perfect synchronization between man and weapon, a true embodiment of his immense combat prowess.
Thus, he saw no need to replace it with the Immeasurable Divine Spear. He was confident that his spear would ascend with him; should he ever Prove the Path to Immortality and become a saint, his spear would transform into a holy spear—a testament to his unwavering belief in his martial path.
The Son?
Without a second thought, Zhang Yang turned his back on Qiu Lingshui.
He spun around abruptly, facing the razor-sharp spear with a single, fearsome punch.
In that moment—
A dazzling golden light erupted.
Divine fire surged.
Lightning crackled.
Freezing cold swirled through the air.
The battlefield echoed with the howls of wolves and the chants of dragons, as if heralding the roar of a Xuanwu.
Zhang Yang unleashed every ounce of his strength in an unrestrained, all-consuming punch.
His aim was singular—to obliterate the so-called Son with one decisive strike.
