Chapter 544: Finally Not the White Gate Tower

Bai Lang's long spear was like a tiger's fang; when he thrust, slashed and struck, its momentum was full and the force was applied extremely fiercely. The Cloud‑Water Spear Bai Lang wielded should be a few jin lighter than Lü Bu's Fangtian Halberd, yet Bai Lang's force already surpassed Lü Bu's. His thrusts and chops forced even Lü Bu to meet him head‑on; evasion was impossible, the only result being continuous pursuit by Bai Lang. And under Wen Hou's Fangtian Halberd lock, if Bai Lang's force hadn't been great, the weapon would likely have been ripped from his hand.

When Red Hare galloped, the horse was practically a deity of horsemanship; Bai Lang thought Lü Bu was merely an accessory to the Red Hare. The rider and horse seemed spiritually linked, as if even a demon had taken the form of an upper‑body evil spirit and lower‑body horse. In his fierce duel, Bai Lang also had to watch whether Red Hare's hooves would strike. The horse was also charged with battle aura, and a single strike's force was no weaker than a warhammer's blow.

The two sides' clash had already formed a massive battle‑aura vortex, sweeping over a radius of more than a hundred zhang; above their heads terrifying rolled clouds and thunder gathered. Anyone daring to step into their vortex would be drawn into certain death. Only heroes like Guan and Zhang might manage to enter. Wherever the fierce battle reached, houses collapsed, even city walls were shattered by the sharp aura. With such tactics, the result would be mutual devastation; if they did not cease, at minimum both would be exhausted.

But neither side thought of retreating; perhaps Lü Bu finally saw reason. Or perhaps he was forced by Bai Lang into this ferocious duel. Bai Lang entered the fight with the sole intention of killing Lü Bu, and if he was like that, Lü Bu could not evade. At this stage of combat, no one harbors any other thoughts—only the pure desire to slay the opponent. Bai Lang's two arms gripped the long spear, continuously moving forward and back, using his hands as a center to launch thrusts and chops, and his techniques grew ever more fierce under Lü Bu's pressure.

As the fight wore on, Bai Lang gradually shifted the long spear to be operated primarily with his right hand, and his moves became more primitive and direct. He executed only three attacks—thrust, slash, and chop—while his left hand displayed countless variations, with claws, palms, fists, and elbows all emerging. Using his Southern Dipper White Tiger Fist, the power of those flesh strikes was not inferior to the spear, and being an inch shorter made them even more perilous; this ferocity still surpassed the spear. Bai Lang dominated the battlefield on foot, so his legs and feet could also deliver blows.

The problem is that Red Hare could do the same; as time passed its power even exceeded Lü Bu's single punch. "The horse has become a spirit," Bai Lang flashed the thought away; his own Blue Pheasant Horse lacked such sentience. Bai Lang and Lü Bu fought ever more fiercely, already over a hundred exchanges, and both showed signs of exhaustion. Lü Bu's halberd sliced across Bai Lang, and a spray of blood spurted from his shoulder.

Even with fish‑scale armor and the Golden Bell Shield technique, Bai Lang's flesh was still cut by the Fangtian Halberd, and when he crouched his helmet was knocked off by the sweeping halberd, his hair flew outward. He threw back his hair, his beard flared, looking even more ferocious, and his long spear pierced between Lü Bu's waist and ribs; Lü Bu twisted with full force and used the halberd's rear tip to block, causing the spear to miss a fatal penetration and merely slice the armor, leaving a long wound that gushed blood.

But Bai Lang's sweeping strike was countered by Red Hare's flame‑like lunge; the rapid leap pushed Bai Lang's blade outward, making it impossible to wound Lü Bu at such close range. Yet Bai Lang still had limbs. He thrust a claw forward to tear, then kicked backward; Red Hare was simply too fast. Lü Bu, also a strong man, at that moment still managed to block with the long shaft of his halberd, and even counter‑attacked at that distance.

Bai Lang's arm and spine were ripped with long streaks of blood, and Lü Bu let out a painful cry as blood spurted from his body, a mist of blood spraying from his mouth. Both quickly turned, realizing this must be the final round. Bai Lang and Lü Bu were both wounded, the injuries severe, and their battle aura was nearly depleted; only a decisive life‑or‑death strike remained. Lü Bu's murderous aura suddenly erupted, a black‑red demon god igniting like a fighting spirit.

Bai Lang's White Tiger Illusion also roared toward the sky, while Lü Bu, with Red Hare beneath him, seemed a blaze of moving fire— the most intense explosion. Lü Bu rode Red Hare straight at Bai Lang. Bai Lang, both hands gripping his long spear, lowered his massive tiger form and lunged. For both, it was an all‑out final strike; in other worlds this would be a master's finishing blow, but in this world the strength lies in how it levels the destructive power between such masters.

The two sides passed through each other, each unleashing their full attack. The rolling clouds in the sky were split into four by the massive sharp energy, and the battle‑aura circle was torn outward, causing even larger destruction. Yet that aura vanished without a trace.

A massive wound appeared on Bai Lang's body, a gash from shoulder to waist that almost split him in two, plus a protruding puncture on his shoulder. Blood spurted, and his internal organs were about to spill out, but Bai Lang's true qi circulated, forcing the wound to seal. The Internal Force of his Golden Bell Shield was effective for this, and as his muscles twitched the wound turned into a terrifying centipede‑like scar.

Meanwhile Red Hare let out a mournful whinny, and Lü Bu slipped from the horse, collapsing to the ground. Bai Lang walked over slowly; he saw Lü Bu staring at the sky, his eyes gradually glazing over, his chest and abdomen pierced by Bai Lang's long spear and then forcibly withdrawn—a mortal wound. Until his final death, Lü Bu said nothing, merely watching the sky as life faded.

Bai Lang could no longer hold on; leaning on his long spear, he slowly crouched down. He spat out a mouthful of blood as true qi circulated within, suppressing the injuries from worsening. With Bai Lang's current vigorous life force, as long as the wounds did not worsen he could use the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield to seal all his injuries, then rely on regenerative medicine to speed healing.

"In the end my qi ran out; the halberd was a bit off, a bit weak, otherwise I might have died in this world. Indeed this was my most perilous battle," Bai Lang leaned on his long spear, sitting on the ground, breathing rapid and feeble; all his strength was spent suppressing his injuries, and he was on the verge of fainting. At that moment Bai Lang vaguely heard someone speaking, but the next instant he passed out.

"Where is this?" Bai Lang looked at the ceiling, feeling he must be lying on a couch; his body was stiff, seemingly bound with strips of cloth, and a heavy scent of plants and oil filled the air.