Chapter 671: Showcasing Power and Might!

Great Snow Mountain.

Great Black Sky God…

Lan Lan Jicai's words, relayed word for word into Liang Qu's mind, stirred up many memories.

Jinmu glanced at the Great Black Sky God—over six zhang tall, half a head taller than Bai Yuan.

No wonder Master Batu had left Haruhan alone for a one-on-one, boasting so proudly.

Fierce and dominant, unmatched in might!

Compared to Zhang Zhang Shaofan's Rongjin Batiti, Haruhan lacked such strong Jin Gang defense, impervious to blades and spears, but gained far more violent force and unrivaled speed!

Earlier, the serrated great knife had jolted Liang Qu's arms numb.

If Zhang Zhang Shaofan, Hua Qing, or any of them had come, today's battle would have ended in defeat.

For the first time, he faced an opponent of his age so formidable.

Liang Qu tightened his spear shaft and licked his lips.

If I win against the North Court's best, won't I be the number one under twenty across the land?

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The drumskin shook back the dust.

The armored Xie Lülang beat the Da Zhui drum; crimson ribbons whipped wildly, beats rapid as a torrential downpour.

Bai Yuan was dusted with faint golden light.

Haruhan, retreating, dragged his great knife, riding the momentum of wind and thunder, stomping the earth!

Boom!

White mist erupted again.

Knowing each other's strength, the two no longer flew apart on contact; fingers brushed the shafts, both angled their weapons, reverse Gang wind surged skyward, clashing apart.

Cold light flowed along the blades.

Gripping the shaft, they slashed back!

Clang!

Screech!

Two sharp sounds.

Both men's upper garments exploded open; the surging force halted abruptly at their waist belts.

The north wind whipped the long banners.

Everyone spread their fingers, pressing firmly on their headgear.

The envoys of small states stared wide-eyed, pressed against their chair backs.

The arena's center was at least fifty zhang from the viewing stands—could this truly be a hunt for tigers?

No time to care for others' panic.

Haruhan gripped the knife with both hands, muscles bulging like solid rock; his mountainous frame, carrying the force of wind, thunder, and a river of blood, crushed down on the spear's blade, the jagged serrations leaving dark red trails in the air.

The blade blinded the eye.

The giant loomed overhead, driving the knife down to sever the neck, relentless force like an endless tidal wave.

Liang Qu twisted the spear shaft to the right, forearms coiling like steel cables, tendons bulging, unleashing a furious circular force.

Thunder erupted from the mountain.

The powerful airburst deafened the ears.

Haruhan was thrown off-balance by Dragon Fubo; Liang Qu didn't dodge, seized the spear's middle, spun the blade, and struck a second blow at the same spot, then a third, fourth, fifth… Each turn sent Haruhan reeling; sparks flung by the spinning spear were caught in the whirlwind, lingering long until they swirled into a blazing red flame!

Scorching wind cut the face.

Bai Yuan clung to the pillar and smashed wildly.

The Great Black Sky God crossed his red and blue blades, struggling to defend.

Haruhan, caught off-guard, lost balance and couldn't keep up; he absorbed over a dozen strikes in succession, his arms finally giving way—the knife guarding his body was smashed open by the spear's butt, leaving him wide open!

Opportunity!

The tiger's roar was deep and solemn.

Dragon Fubo leapt forward, spearhead piercing a streak of blue light, like a blue dragon reaching its head.

But contrary to everyone's expectation, before the blue dragon could open its jaws and bite down flesh…

Haruhan, previously off-balance, suddenly turned his entire body crimson, forcefully shifting his center of gravity, refusing to dodge or retreat, leaning back and slashing his knife forward!

Swish!

The spear angled outward.

Liang Qu twisted midair, planted his foot on Haruhan's calf, and leapt backward, sidestepping the dark red blade.

Dragon Fubo spun, crimson tassels fluttering, blood streaked along the blade and splashed onto the ground in a long arc.

Haruhan gasped heavily, looked down, and saw a wound an inch deep.

Wiping the blood dripping from the cut, Haruhan gripped his knife hilt, puzzled.

Had the opponent anticipated this?

The tense exchange yielded no advantage; sighs of regret rose from all sides—for both Haruhan and Liang Qu.

Master Batu gripped his armrest.

The situation was vastly different from what he imagined.

Sunar and Helun'e's spines prickled with cold sweat; no one knew better than them how terrifying Haruhan was.

He was taller than mountains, stronger than mountains by a margin!

Now, Liang Qu, wielding only a spear, fought back fiercely, even gaining the upper hand—his impact on them was like a orchid mantis on a willow leaf, using its sickle to hold back two fingers of a giant and slicing deep!

What horse?

A fierce tiger, a coiled, ferocious tiger!

The North Court was stunned by Liang Qu's terrifying power and youth.

How could Da Shun, Meng Meng Qiang, and the others not be awed by Haruhan's brutal dominance?

Earlier on the training ground, Liang Qu had taken on three at once and held his own!

An inch-deep wound would expose bone in others, but on Haruhan, it was negligible.

Boom!

A strong wind howled.

Banners flapped without pause.

The urgent drumbeats of Po Zhen Le merged with the clash of blades, blazing like ten thousand troops charging!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bai Yuan and the Great Black Sky God, failing their first strike, unleashed all their power, striking again and again, killing again and again, striking again and again!

Toes gripped tight.

Breath held.

Heart pounded like a drum!

Black-red blade light clashed with black-gold spear radiance; the afterglow of each slash lingered long.

Sparks from the previous strike had not yet faded when new sparks flew from the next slash.

Don't just marvel at the dense sparks from their blade-spear clashes—it was as if they weren't wielding divine weapons, but two flowing, fluttering silken ribbons!

Encourage! Encourage!

Charge! Charge!

As if the gods moved, soaring and standing tall.

Two armies plunged into battle, swinging blades and spears.

All music served as accompaniment to the two.

Grand music surged to the heavens!

Layered clouds churned, blood columns shot into the sky.

Liang Qu and Haruhan had utterly redefined and raised the upper limit of the initial Hunter-Tiger stage, declaring to the world: the Hunter-Tiger realm could be this strong!

Ink beads linked into a string.

The imperial scribe's brush danced like dragons and snakes, frantically writing.

Black-red and black-gold interwove tightly; through the swirling sparks, Liang Qu saw Haruhan's crimson skin, glowing like flame, sweat and oil streaming violently, hot breath from his nose and mouth condensing into thick mist.

The imperial palace was cold, but not cold enough for breath to form mist!

The serrated meat-cutter's strike was powerful and heavy, yet not chaotic.

The force striking the spear blade grew stronger with each impact, even exceeding Liang Qu's own strength, crushing his chest with stifling pressure, forcing ragged breaths, his stamina draining like water from a high mountain.

Only moments passed.

Haruhan's physique seemed to have shrunk a full circle, his once-muscular frame now revealing hard, defined lines.

Undoubtedly, a Naiman secret technique!

The Khan had used it!

At first, Liang Qu wasn't sure if Haruhan could use it, so he kept three-tenths caution—and thus managed to withdraw in time.

Even Yan Yan Dongjun had to avoid the sharp edge when the Naiman Khan used this move…

Boom!

The serrated meat-cutter, rolling with thunder, slashed down.

The Dragon Fubo trembled violently, nearly slipping from his grip.

Liang Qu's tiger's mouth bled profusely; he gasped heavily, his golden eyes blazing. For the first time in his life, he faced such a ferocious battle— Yanqiandejingxiangyutiantanneideganyingzhujianqihe ， Congqianzaiqiangshuzhonglingwudedongxiquanbubeidasanzaichongzu ， Wuxingdejiyizhujianhuijudaoqiangshuzhong 。

Each spear thrust differed, each strike varied, yet grew ever more piercing and terrifying!

Master Batu's expression subtly changed: "He's improving… how is this possible…"

A sea of blood surged wildly, while a lone reef stood firm.

Two dragons vie for the pearl, fighting a tiger for its prey!

The sensation in his spear grew ever more familiar; his inner emotions surged higher.

Until, in a single instant, the spear tassel danced wildly, and enlightenment struck his heart.

The warm sunlight above turned into endless frost and snow; Haruhan's figure merged seamlessly with that of the Khan.

It was as if mountain spring water cascaded into a deep pool, splashing crisp, clear droplets.

Liang Qu suddenly shifted his step, swinging the spear blade to deflect the knife—his bleeding tiger's mouth and forearm cracked open with fresh wounds, yet he forcibly pulled the Dragon Fubo back.

His forearm supported the spear shaft; his thumb pressed down.

The jet-black spear blade melted into a skyward flow of light, each ripple spreading outward through the void.

Layer upon layer of ripples swelled into a tidal wave, completely engulfing Haruhan—like a blooming golden chrysanthemum wrapping flesh, thousands of stamens tugging at delicate strands of muscle, the great jet-black chrysanthemum dyed crimson red!

Master Batu snapped the armrest in his grip.

Old Mo slightly lifted his eyelids.

"Blood Chrysanthemum… Yan Yan Dongjun's spear art…"

Whoosh!

The long spear retracted with a sharp vibration.

The blood blossoms blooming in countless pupils withered and fell.

Haruhan had nowhere to evade—he was drenched in blood.

The swirling steam dispersed.

Dozens of grotesque, deep yet shallow wounds glistened, holding pools of blood, as if countless crimson eyes had opened across his flesh.

Overwhelming pain surged through his body, forcibly dragging Haruhan out of his secret technique's state!

Ooo~

The three-zhang ox horn rose high.

Drums and music surged with fierce vigor.

The clash between the two armies reached its zenith.

Ten thousand horses reared in unison, their hooves thundering; banners blotted out sun and sky.

Cut down the general! Cut down the general!

Seize the banner! Seize the banner!

Riding the momentum, Liang Qu thrust his spear forward again—the mist of Immortal Island flowed like a waterfall, surging.

Boom!

He evaded the knife's edge.

White mist exploded beneath his feet.

Liang Qu rode the wind into the sky, stepping upon misty steps as he flipped upward, rising above Haruhan, then twisted and slashed downward with his spear.

Whoosh!

He raised his knife to block the spear.

Blood within the wounds trembled, cascading down like mountain streams.

A wave of weakness flooded his entire body.

Haruhan's legs buckled; he collapsed to his knees.

The Great Black Heavenly God was also struck, its form dimmed by a third.

Haruhan swung his knife to pursue, but white mist surged again—Liang Qu used the air's force to leap backward as if walking on air like a Martial Saint, thrusting forth a blue radiance; Haruhan's great knife could only shift to defense, guarding himself.

Charging cavalry swung their sabers.

Broken troops discarded armor and helmets.

Like ants in panic, rats in terror!

"Excellent!"

Meng Meng Qiang beamed, reaching out to grip Zhang Zhang Shaofan and Hua Qingdu by the neck, slapping them hard.

Any keen observer could see—Haruhan was done for!

Liang Qu thought so too.

Yet at that very moment, a thick sense of danger surged into his heart!

Haruhan deflected the spear blade, dragged his hand across the knife's edge, coating it in blood—his black pupils vanished, replaced by something strange and perilous.

Did the barbarian still have a trick up his sleeve?

Meng Meng Qiang fell silent.

The envoy held his breath.

Liang Qu scanned the surroundings, suddenly realizing the source of danger—he snapped his head upward.

The once-fading Great Black Heavenly God had, without warning, stabilized again—its closed eyes trembled slightly, then its eyelids lifted slightly, revealing a strange, pure white.

The Great Black Heavenly God was about to open its eyes!

Every pore on his body prickled as if pierced by needles, tingling and writhing—as if his own skin were sprouting eyes, tearing open.

So itchy!

What kind of devilry is this?

Is this truly True Gang?

Liang Qu's alarm bells rang violently.

Everyone recoiled backward in unison.

Such power…

No good—this is bad!

Old Mo drew both hands from his sleeves.

Yet as several Grand Masters prepared to intervene, an even stronger aura surged forth with majestic force—like water flooding the throat, filling the lungs, like a blazing sun hanging in the sky, scorching flesh!

All eyes shifted from Haruhan back to Liang Qu—then they saw only Bai Yuan hanging from the pillar.

Hoo~

Heaven and earth fell silent.

The tide surged wildly.

The spear blade sliced through the air, leaving ripples like flowing water.

Everything before his eyes turned into black-and-white lines—the Great Black Heavenly God, holding twin knives, stubbornly persisted for half a breath, yet still could not resist; black patches withered and cracked piece by piece.

As the blade cut through, the lines shattered—like rebounding tendons contracting, trembling, causing every fine thread to quiver and twist.

Boom!

The Great Black Heavenly God exploded into fragments.

The half-open, half-closed pupils vanished without trace.

The cosmos emptied!

Shhh!

Master Batu appeared, stepping before Haruhan, catching the lingering aura bare-handed and crushing it to dust.

Thud!

Haruhan toppled backward onto the ground.

A gentle breeze brushed his face.

Drums and music ceased abruptly.

Liang Qu stepped back three paces, driving his spear into the ground to brace himself.

Turbid droplets splashed into tiny sprays.

The Drumming Harmonizer drenched in sweat.

The Holy Emperor, Old Mo, and the entire court of nobles all watched intently.

Master Batu cast a meaningful glance at Liang Qu, then turned and bowed to the Holy Emperor.

"We yield!"

(End of Chapter)