Chapter 175

Accompanied by the fierce tiger roar, Bai Lang thrust out a palm. This palm was like a battering ram, fierce and unstoppable as it struck toward Mao Dongshan. The force of this palm could not be worn away by the Yin-Yang Grind; Bai Lang had already, through relentless attacks, wave upon wave, pushed his momentum and internal force to an extreme height, his inner vision bursting forth like a heavenly disaster storm—this was not something the Yin-Yang Grind's force could hold still.

She quickly flung the bone whip from her hand, blocking this strike with the support of the Yin-Yang Grind's internal force, yet the bone whip was shattered by the shock. At that moment, bloody light burst from Mao Dongshan's body, and the Yin-Yang Grind's internal force suddenly erupted. Bai Lang's heightened momentum was instantly worn away by the Yin-Yang Grind, and Mao Dongshan not only failed to seize the chance to counterattack, but instead turned into a bloody light and tried to flee.

"Where do you think you're going!" After Bai Lang's palm, he should have followed up with a chain of attacks—that was his preparation, aided by rising qi. Now Mao Dongshan suddenly displayed such ability, and Bai Lang likewise had a flash of inspiration, directly unleashing a move from the Arhat Benevolent King Fist.

"Heavenly Storm!" I don't know where this name came from; Bai Lang didn't shout it out, but he understood the variation of this move—it is a tornado rising from the ground to the sky, over a person's thick but reaching heights of dozens of zhang, and anyone sucked in would be immobilized and torn to shreds by the violent wind blades.

Back in the village, the move Bai Lang used to kill that villager was the beginning of this fist style. "Not yet fully realized..." Bai Lang clearly understood this. For now he still needs to posture with both palms, circulating the Arhat Benevolent King Fist's martial art to execute this move; when he can unleash it effortlessly and at will, that will count as success.

Now blocking Mao Dongshan is enough—even merely hindering this woman for a single breath is sufficient. The wind blades cannot break her protective gang qi; the Yin-Yang Grind instantly tore apart this tornado, but Mao Dongshan's bloody qi escape was interrupted, giving Bai Lang the chance to catch up.

The White Jade Pillar, as it rushed forward, continued to employ the Heavenly Storm technique—even just a little more obstruction would help—and Bai Lang's form directly turned into a fierce tiger caught in the gale, coming down with a claw from above. This remained Bai Lang's most familiar tiger-claw skill.

This claw even bore a faint red glow—perhaps this is Bai Lang's martial art reaching perfection at least in the Black Tiger Claw; the red light gives the feeling that space itself is being torn apart.

Mao Dongshan couldn't block it; she also couldn't—or didn't want to—block it. After a shrill scream, she whipped up gusts of ghostly wind that turned into a hissing, black-as-ink Yin-Yang Grind disc; from the eyes of the Yin-Yang fish, a sword split into two thrusts, as if betting her life against Bai Lang to see whether he would withdraw his move for fear of mutual destruction.

How could Bai Lang withdraw his move? He fears nothing more than a head‑on clash; otherwise the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield cultivated to hardness would be a fake. At this moment his claw relentlessly came down, enveloping his head, while his body swiftly gathered a dark‑gold bronze bell on the outside. The two swords, like flood dragons, pierced straight through that bronze bell, producing a metallic screech.

Although the bell's gang qi was pierced, it ultimately blocked the sword intent and sword qi heavily; in Bai Lang's divine sense, a white tiger sat upon the bronze bell and roared aloud, the sinister sword intent instantly dispersed by that roar, and the sword qi could only leave two blood streaks on Bai Lang's bronze‑skin iron‑bone.

The sword was coated with poison, but the poison could not penetrate Bai Lang's flesh, blood, and meridians—instead a scorching, violent blood qi surged from his flesh, bones, and blood, devouring the toxin outright. Bai Lang didn't know how this happened, yet it did not hinder his claw from gripping Mao Dongshan's one shoulder.

"Got you!" Bai Lang's feral laugh rang out, and he followed with a rip and tear; the power of the Nandu Holy Fist turned into sharp vigor, but Bai Lang could now consciously control it, allowing it to shift between hard and soft at his will. This tear had the strength of nine oxen and two tigers, or one could say the might of the dragon‑elephant, and Mao Dongshan immediately screamed in agony.

Half of her body was nearly torn apart; the front half of her ribcage was ripped to shreds, let alone her chest—completely a bloody mess that exposed her lungs inside. This was already a lethal heavy wound; even though an Innate Expert excels at preserving life and healing wounds, this was now an incurable heavy injury.

Moreover, Bai Lang's Nandu Holy Fist and the internal force of the Golden Bell Shield ravaged her meridians like a scythe through wheat, wreaking havoc everywhere; this claw alone had almost severed Mao Dongshan's vitality. Seizing her sickness to take her life, Bai Lang's other hand launched a punch that shattered the gang qi of the Yin‑Yang Double Fish before him, then struck the opposite side of her chest.

Blasted apart—this was a direct blast; Mao Dongshan was punched straight through from front chest to back, just like being hit by a siege‑drill. Bai Lang's strike counted as double Nandu force: first breaking the Yin‑Yang gang qi, then erupting with lethal power.

On that pretty face the features looked exceptionally ferocious, blood spraying from her mouth; Bai Lang's claw turned into a palm, and in an instant he had taken Mao Dongshan's head. "Thank you, elder brother, for your aid!" Bai Lang said with a feral laugh, then withdrew—because beside the mutilated corpse had gathered countless vengeful spirits.

Bai Lang could see clearly that these were pallid boys and girls, their seven apertures bleeding, their eyes filled with endless vengeful intent; of course, along with the blood there were also tears. These little ghosts rushed at the headless corpse, surging in and out, while upon the corpse rose Mao Dongshan's soul.

She was forced to reveal her true form by the vengeful backlash of the ghosts; her eyes were full of grudge, yet she looked at Bai Lang with a pleading expression—an Innate Expert had already begun cultivating the divine soul, and perhaps, by a fortunate coincidence, she could reincarnate her soul, maybe even unravel the mystery of the womb and return to the path of cultivation.

Bai Lang looked up and laughed, "Karma! It really is karma, but I'll be the one to deliver it!" Having said that, he lunged forward, a claw tearing open the gang qi covering Mao Dongshan's soul, causing those little ghosts to scream and lunge at her soul. One ghost rushed forward—only a flash of light was seen before it vanished without trace, yet Mao Dongshan's soul would tremble.

Bai Lang had originally intended to strike himself and rip apart that woman's soul, but seeing the souls of those boys and girls who held nothing back, his eyes flashed with divine light and he sighed, refraining from acting. "These boys' and girls' souls are already beyond salvation—indeed, I also do not know whether this world has an underworld that could arrange reincarnation for ordinary people... I have never seen the black‑and‑white impermanence, ox‑head and horse‑face."

Since there was no hope, and these boys' and girls' souls retained only a thought of revenge, Bai Lang naturally granted their wish—keeping these little ghosts would likely only turn them into harmful feral spirits; better to fulfill their desire and let them perish together with Mao Dongshan's soul.