Chapter 418: Victory or Defeat, Life or Death

"You little shit! Don't insult your mother!" Bai Lang shouted a curse he'd picked up somewhere, answering Happy King's suggestion, and his momentum increased by three parts, his attacks grew fiercer while he simply abandoned defense. Bai Lang, like a mad tiger, completely disregarded his own injuries, after encountering Happy King's true qi erosion, erupted again, simply desperately increasing his attack power and frequency.

"Even if he has thousands of martial arts and myriad variations, I, old sir, just tear and beat him all the way. My Liu fighting style is unmatched under heaven!" This thought flashed in Bai Lang's mind, then was instantly blown to the clouds; he now throws himself wholeheartedly into the fight, anyway today either he dies or Happy King dies, one must die. Happy King's words cannot sway Bai Lang, so it can only be a fight to the death.

Since this person can become the master of an oasis in the desert, his character and resolve are surely top‑notch; when he gets ruthless, he's also a wolf exterminator. Seeing Bai Lang already madly attacking without regard for anything, he also knows he cannot retreat, not even a step; even if there are defensive counter techniques in his martial arts, his momentum absolutely cannot show the slightest retreat, and he also needs to shed some blood himself in the clash.

The earth trembled, the surroundings engulfed by raging wind and scorching sun; an ordinary person daring to enter a radius of dozens of li would either be reduced to ashes or melted into charcoal. Bai Lang's claw strikes, palm and leg techniques—almost every blow was intercepted by Happy King using various methods; even those hard to block were deflected with gang qi and body technique, letting the strike land on less important parts of his body, while he also exerted himself to unleash his own techniques upon Bai Lang.

Bai Lang's physique certainly holds the advantage; the true strength of the Golden Bell Shield Divine Skill lies in fortifying the flesh, Bai Lang's body is already like bronze cast and iron forged, even if wounded it remains a cracked golden bell, its material unchanged. Even if Happy King took elixirs, his bodily strength still falls short of Bai Lang's, he also has several wounds bleeding, yet his bearing remains lofty. Bai Lang, however, looks somewhat miserable.

Bai Lang's body is covered in bloodstains, his hair and beard even more disheveled, yet he still bears a tiger's majesty. The fight has so far been evenly matched; neither side can gain the upper hand, but Bai Lang knows his physical advantage is gradually asserting itself. "It seems that after Happy King supposedly repaired his 'foundation,' his true qi has risen a level, but his flesh is still not that strong—not as strong as mine!"

In true qi, Happy King is pervasive and inexhaustible, but Bai Lang is like a hurricane and raging tide, not far behind; moreover, his body is tough and hard, and in his fierce assaults he forces Happy King to continually clash head‑on with him. If they meet force with force, Bai Lang can gradually gain the edge—shaking the opponent's muscles into numbness, and since his hands and feet are like weapons, the opponent must be wary; if Bai Lang lands a solid hit, it will pierce a hole or simply tear open.

So far, Happy King's minor injuries are only scrapes from Bai Lang's claw wind or grazing fingertips; any truly lethal attack he has desperately blocked—dodging is impossible and not worthwhile. Consequently, his now soft, woman‑like hands feel a slight stagnation of blood, and the rings on his fingers have already shattered gemstones and twisted bands. Happy King simply shook his true qi, shattering the broken rings and sending them flying.

White‑jade‑like palms still show not a flaw, Bai Lang also had to praise, "Indeed, a fine palm technique!" After this palm technique is cultivated, the palms become warm and smooth like jade, and of course as hard as jade stone—unfortunately only the palms, not the whole body. Bai Lang possesses great strength; his claw style is fierce, seizing Happy King's palm he will then crush it all the way up—whatever he grips will surely have its bones crushed to powder.

Happy King also clasped his palms, bursting forth boundless true‑qi radiance, aiming to shake open Bai Lang's claws. Yet Bai Lang, suffering pain with smoke rising from his whole body especially his hands, erupted a strange force, pulling and flinging Happy King, "Scrap Wind!" After that fling, Happy King's breath grew uneven, he paused for a moment. Bai Lang, having painfully earned this chance— to unleash Scrap Wind he did not block Happy King's shock at all—now his entire body feels as if scorched by fire, and various alien true qi still churn inside him.

Bai Lang's skin split all over, light radiating from the cracks, broken skin and muscle falling from the bones, turning to ash before hitting the ground. Yet Bai Lang endured; his claws roared like a tiger, flashing into the middle palace like lightning, his claws began the attack like lightning, and while attacking he kept advancing. Fist‑claw‑foot‑knee took turns, striking as smoothly as flowing clouds and water.

Since Happy King couldn't block his first strike in time—Bai Lang only needed that opening—after this blow Happy King could not stop the ensuing barrage of critical hits, perhaps blocking a few but most would get through. Each strike prepares for the next, each varies, this is Bai Lang's Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist forbidden move, "Forbidden Eight Maidens!"

Since it couldn't be blocked, might as well go all‑out counterattack and see who lasts longer, luckier! Breaking bones, tearing flesh, pulling out entrails—Bai Lang and Happy King are doing the same thing, yet in this art of dismembering the human body, the frenzied tiger‑like Bai Lang has the edge. The two are pressed tightly together, their hands twisted together, each having plunged into the other's chest and abdomen; Bai Lang's arm is already broken, hanging only by the Golden Bell Shield's internal force, his true qi clinging tightly to the torn flesh and broken bones.

One of Bai Lang's legs was also torn open, a long gash from thigh to calf, skin and muscle turned back to expose the bone. As for the chest‑abdomen area, his belly is surely split open, possibly spilling intestines. At least six ribs are broken, though it seems the lungs and heart inside might still work.

Opposite Happy King looks just as miserable as Bai Lang, his mouth also vomiting blood bubbles, but his bubbles contain fragments—indeed, while his belly split open, Bai Lang had already torn apart his liver, smashed his lungs, and his heart had ended up in the palm of Bai Lang's hand that had pierced his body, only a single blood vessel still connecting, the other severed vessels spurting blood, golden‑tinged.

As for his hands and feet? Ah, since Bai Lang, this kind of body‑tempering strongman, has broken hands and torn feet, how could he fare better? Naturally both arms are broken, lodged in Bai Lang's chest and abdomen, while his legs are snapped inch by inch, barely able to support his own body. Happy King's eyes flashed with madness, the heavenly true‑qi light suddenly reversed, all gathering back into his body...