Chapter 114: Brotherhood 2

Because of his kung fu, Bai Lang's punches and kicks are extremely powerful, and the recoil force from the Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill that he carries causes even when the opponent meets his move, the opponent is rebounded by the force of his own block, essentially a double strike. So the man barely blocked all the attacks; it's perfectly normal that the few that slipped broke several of his bones......

Such martial artists who have meticulously studied palm techniques usually prioritize Internal Force, and those who have reached this level almost all have protective internal-force aura. However, that aura cannot stop Bai Lang's attacks and recoil—this is a recoil of a recoil, easily breaking bones while also driving internal energy into the man's body and wreaking havoc.

The man let out a series of low groans, blood spattered from the corner of his mouth, and his palm technique was rather chaotic— in this kind of close‑quarter rapid combat, Bai Lang's Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill truly dominates. This round of attack lasted only two or three breaths; Bai Lang delivered over a dozen strikes—punches, palms, claws, elbows, knees, and kicks. Although the opponent was not killed, several ribs were broken, his hand bones may have shattered, and even a leg bone was snapped.

Who says Bai Lang isn't a combat art for battlefield melee......

At this moment the others' attacks arrived; relying on his Golden Bell Shield Internal Force protection, Bai Lang decided to kill one first. "It's better to cut off one finger than to wound all ten!" he thought, "Kill this injured leader first, otherwise I'll just be taking hits for nothing!" The Flying Eagle and Poisonous Snake sword styles were more vicious than Bai Lang had imagined; the first strike didn't break his protective aura, but the second would definitely shatter it.

After all, the opponents' cultivation was not inferior to his, and the tip of the sword concentrated a point of Internal Force that could pierce the Golden Bell Shield's defense. Yet Bai Lang's flesh was also protected by the Golden Bell Shield, so it wasn't easy for a blade to pierce him. Thus the four swords only left a one‑inch deep puncture and a three‑inch slash on his flesh, but the four attackers then switched targets, aiming at Bai Lang's eyes, ears, temples, and lower body.

Bai Lang clenched his sphincter, drew his thighs together, and regardless he hammered at the man. "Quick! Come faster......" he shouted, and at that point Bai Lang used one arm to push aside another man using palm techniques, a claw seized the middle‑aged leader's arm and pulled.

The claw technique is a usage of Black Tiger Fist; the sharp aura ripped through the opponent's protective true Qi, a grip seized the arm, and as he pulled, it stripped the flesh clean— the man's wail shook the heavens— his arm turned to bone. Shaken in spirit, his true Qi scattered amid the excruciating pain, and Bai Lang immediately followed with a flurry of strikes to free him from suffering. Both palms shattered all the ribs, the organs turned to mush, and the ensuing punches crushed the spine behind. Bai Lang did not use claws to tear— there was no time, he had to block the incoming sword techniques.

Anyway this man was already doomed; Bai Lang's body was covered with wounds and bleeding— the point of cross‑training martial arts is to find a weak spot, and everyone present knew that. The weak spots are limited to the eyes, Baihui, dantian, and lower perineum; perhaps some people have unconventional weak spots under the armpit, but these few did not think this man, who could be slashed there, could achieve that.

That this man could slay their leader was a bit unexpected— both a good and a bad thing. The good is that one less person will claim the greatest credit, and a vacancy has opened above. The bad is that if they fail to kill the man in front of them and he escapes, they will surely be blamed for the leader's death. However, there are five of them, so they can at least keep this cross‑training martial arts expert of the Chang Lo Sect.

Bai Lang never intended to kill them all; in his view, "Most of the people in this branch have already died; this Yecheng branch is basically finished. Even if the main headquarters sends more, we'll have to start over, and who knows how many fierce clashes will follow. Killing a few here is enough to fulfill my duty— after all I'm just a low‑rank foot soldier of the sect, with no real position, and reaching this point is enough to repay the Chang Lo Sect."

Having killed the leader, Bai Lang felt it was enough— with his current martial skill he probably couldn't take out all the enemies; at most one or two more, the rest would flee and he couldn't stop them, and even with timely hemostasis his own injuries couldn't hold out. For the sake of the sect… hahahaha, Bai Lang thought he was being very chivalrous now.

Sure enough, after Bai Lang withdrew, he was able to fend off the four swordsmen's attacks one by one; shielding his weak points with his arms was sufficient. If that palm‑user simply used a splitting‑air palm, that palm force actually couldn't hurt him.

Two swords, like poisonous snakes, lunged at his eyes, but Bai Lang clasped his palms together, forcing the two blades to merge in his palm. He then twisted his hands, and the seized swords instantly began to spin. A surge of force erupted, and the two swordsmen were forced to drop their swords— their bodies were already pressed close to Bai Lang while aiming at his eyes, and Bai Lang's merging of the swords left them no room to maneuver.

If they didn't want to end up a heap, they had to abandon their swords. Fortunately the other two, using an up‑and‑down Flying Eagle sword style, were already stabbing at Bai Lang's Baihui and lower perineum. This made it hard for Bai Lang to chase the two who dropped their swords, forcing him to retreat to avoid the blades. Yet a Flying Eagle style isn't so easily evaded; those two's sword techniques shadowed his every move, targeting Bai Lang's two weak points.

Bai Lang also had to discard the sword in his hand; he split his hands, one reaching upward, one reaching down, his palms aiming at the two swords.

He seemed about to seize them, but like a soaring bird looping, the two swords twirled slightly and evaded Bai Lang's twin claws, thrusting again at his weak points. Bai Lang let out a roar, leapt sideways, his body rotating to intercept the two blades with his own flesh. The price was a series of fresh sword wounds on his body.

His feet barely touched the ground when Bai Lang unleashed Black Tiger Fist at full force, his form like a raging tiger, lunging low along the ground, charging straight at a swordsman who had dropped his blade; the other two sword flashes he tossed behind him— they could no longer reach his so‑called weak points. That swordsman also used his palm as a sword, thrusting— the result was his arm snapped cleanly, and two heavy punches pulverized his ribs and skull.

The protective aura was far less resilient than the palm‑wielding leader's, and the sharp sword Qi, as long as Bai Lang ignored his injuries, was as fragile as it was sharp; a single strike shattered the sword‑Qi shield, then smashed his flesh. The cost was merely that Bai Lang's meridians felt as if pierced by a keen blade, suppressed only by the Golden Bell Shield's internal skill.