Chapter 254: Siege

This was when Gao Shun's power had been driven to its peak, when suddenly experts attacked and killed him — and not just one. Bai Lang saw four people drifting down from the sky, four individuals with distinctive attire who also wore masks. There were men and women, the masks ranging from old to young. "I can't recognize any of them — who knows who they are." Bai Lang muttered, then looked at the four and shouted, "Who are you all? What are you?"

These four people landed on the ground — no, on the river surface, just like standing on solid ground. The four Innate Experts still exerted strong pressure on Bai Lang. These four bastards said nothing, their eyes behind the masks fixed on Bai Lang. "The atmosphere is getting tighter and tighter... Looks like they're going to blast me to pieces." Bai Lang curled his lip, and the strong man's words slipped out unconsciously — honestly, he was a little nervous.

When facing a big shot, there's no time to be nervous; only these four opponents of equal rank before him, who look like they want his life, can put Bai Lang in a tense situation. It looks like they're going to fight — no need to ask why, because asking just means fighting.

As the four moved, Bai Lang let out a tiger roar, and a violent wind blade erupted around his body; the white tiger roared to the heavens, and the Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill operated at full power. Bai Lang simply turned into a crouching tiger, his internal force drawing inward to store energy for a counterattack. If he didn't do this, a direct clash might get him blown apart; better to lie low and counterattack.

Sure enough, sword lights, blade lights, plus whatever petals, wind, rain, thunder, and lightning — and even a mysterious, unknowable strange palace directly engulfed Bai Lang. But under the recoil of Bai Lang's Golden Bell Shield, the palace shattered, the blade lights dissipated and the petals were crushed. Bai Lang's tiger body cracked, and he spat out a mouthful of blood with an "ah—pah". "Practicing this skill has this flaw — you have to take the deadliest blow." The armor on Bai Lang's tiger form shattered badly, and for a moment it looked unrecoverable.

Bai Lang's recoil merely shattered the remnants of their attacks; only by relying on his protective gang qi and powerful physique did he withstand their combined strike. "Aside from this cultivation, it's already peerless." Among the four, a youth‑masked man in armor and general's attire spoke up. "No wonder..." The woman wearing a beautiful mask, dressed in flowing heavenly robes, only said those two words.

Bai Lang took a deep breath, his bones cracking throughout his body, and he channeled his breath to push the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist to its utmost — facing four against one, he had no chance of winning, so he could only strike first and worry later. Turning tail to run would likely get him chased down in a pathetic way and killed. In this situation, Bai Lang would surely fight to the death; maybe he could escape — for instance, if Yu Yu suddenly grabbed him. The four came forward to surround him, completely lacking any bearing of Innate Experts.

Bai Lang rallied his spirit, relying on this external cultivation divine skill, meeting the opponents' swords and blades with fists, palms, legs and feet, and even while blocking there rang the sound of metal on metal. The blade lights and sword shadows, combined with the white tiger's roar, didn't just ruin the sandbank beneath his feet — they sucked the entire river surface for dozens of miles around into wind blades, sword lights, blade qi, a sky‑full of petals, and shockwaves. Above, layer upon layer of palaces pressed down directly, and the seventy‑two islands in the heart of the river began to crumble and split.

The people above could only howl, unable to shed tears — for when that palace's phantom fell from the sky, they had already become the palace's sweepers and maids — their vitality vanished in an instant. This divine skill likewise suppressed Bai Lang, as if a thousand‑jin weight pressed on him, while constantly tearing at his soul to make him the master of some palace. Even the phantom of the white tiger was attacked by the divine generals flying out from within the palace.

As for the blade light and sword intent, I won't even mention it — it cuts not only the body but also the soul. Those petals are even more laced with deadly poison; the white tiger is about to turn into a black tiger.

Bai Lang's whole body was now drenched in red blood; even his tough‑as‑steel flesh‑gang qi was shattered by the opponents, who were also Innate Experts, leaving many wounds from blades and swords on him — especially where the cuts were deep enough to expose bone. "My vital energy isn't gone! I can still fight!" Bai Lang gritted his teeth and thought. The four he faced also gained nothing; the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist was fierce and brutal, its energy turning into wind blades that enveloped all directions.

Moreover, his fists and feet were like spears, halberds, axes and long blades, their fierce power unmatched, truly the pinnacle of external martial arts. The young "general" wielding a knife found his treasure blade already slightly bent, and its edge, like a saw, had been gouged out by Bai Lang's flesh and fists into many gaps. He himself was wounded; Bai Lang tore apart his armor — the armor that could deflect treasure blades and divine swords lay in ruins, and several spots on his body looked like broken bones and torn tendons — blood seeped from beneath this man's mask.

The sword‑wielding official‑styled old man in a mask: his sword was bald, the tip broken, one arm hanging limp, severed. The woman flying petals everywhere, hiding in the back — that is, she had a few cuts from wind blades on her body, all flesh wounds, making her the least injured. As for those palms like a collapsing heaven, with divine sense transformed into the Nine Heavens Palace, the middle‑aged man in a mask, his robe had also been torn apart, and here on his shoulder were deep claw marks revealing bone — yet his true qi was full, making him truly the strongest among Bai Lang's foes.

Since Bai Lang cultivates the Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist, he is truly like a fierce tiger: the heavier his wounds, the fiercer his fighting spirit, the stronger his erupting combat power — moreover, he now has the newly acquired "Tortoise Immortal Flow Saiya Killing Method," which also grows stronger the more injured he is. This martial art bears a name: the Killing Wolf Technique — a first‑class perilous killing divine skill, and the record of overcoming the strong with the weak is most often achieved with this skill.

However, training this martial art has three drawbacks: few daring warriors are suited to it, it's hard to practice, and most who practice it die young — so very few in the world truly master this divine skill to the point of perfection. Bai Lang is now one of them.

"Great skill — if you don't die, you're probably the Heavenly Killer Star on the mortal rankings." The middle‑aged man didn't care at all about his wounds, merely constantly forming hand seals with his palms, making the Nine‑layer Palace ever clearer and brighter. Bai Lang now thought of the other three Innate Experts among the water bandits; they haven't shown up, likely because they're colluding with these four. The offensive has temporarily paused; Bai Lang stands before the four — they dare not each take a side and surround him, for this white tiger could very well break through the encirclement at any cost.

They don't want to die.

Bai Lang's blood dripped onto the ground, each drop stirring a little whirlwind that made the river surface form vortices — yes, the sandbank has sunk, and Bai Lang is now standing on the river surface by force of Lightness Skill and Internal Force, though the water reaches his knees; only that swordsman is worse off — he's submerged up to his buttocks...