Chapter 44: Huaxia Military Boxing

Zhang Youliang’s face turned ashen, the immense grip force on his trembling fists leaving him stunned.

He was now beginning to doubt that Cang Luo’s cultivation base was merely Warrior Fifth Layer—perhaps it was Fifth Layer peak.

Or even Warrior Sixth Layer!

He had fought many disciples at Warrior Fifth Layer before; their strength paled in comparison to Cang Luo’s, and none had ever immobilized him like this.

Cang Luo observed every shift in his expression—from disdain and mockery to confusion, shock, and bewilderment.

Then came utter astonishment, finally settling into fear and dread.

The opponent’s posture had shifted from haughty superiority to trembling anxiety and existential doubt; this transformation filled Cang Luo with immense delight.

Cang Luo relished this reversal, so he deliberately taunted: “Guess?”

“Guess?” Zhang Youliang froze for a moment, then realized he’d been mocked—he immediately struggled: “Let me go!!!”

“Let you go? Fine, as you wish.”

Cang Luo sneered, and with a simple twist of his hands, he rotated Zhang Youliang’s arms one hundred and eighty degrees.

Then, in a flash, he kicked both of his shins, sending his body lurching forward into a kneeling position before him.

Cang Luo’s movements were lightning-fast; Zhang Youliang only screamed in agony after he hit the ground, his twisted arms searing with pain, sweat pouring from his brow.

Chen Dalong immediately rose from the ground, his expression slightly startled.

From Cang Luo’s earlier moves, he deduced the boy’s cultivation base must now be Warrior Sixth Layer.

Such reaction speed, agility, and power could not possibly belong to a Warrior Fifth Layer cultivator.

As someone who had been there, Chen Dalong could accurately gauge the capabilities of any cultivator below his own level.

But didn’t Da Hu say this worthless fool was only Warrior Third Layer?

How could he have broken through to Warrior Sixth Layer in just twenty days?

This cultivation speed rivals even the elite disciples of the inner sect...

This kid must have a secret—could that be why Master Ouyang Lie wants to eliminate him?

Afraid of being surpassed in the year-end grand competition?

So he’s trying to crush him before he grows stronger?

Chen Dalong’s mind raced, but seeing Zhang Youliang was no match for Cang Luo, he had no intention of intervening.

He still looked down on the boy—even if he was Warrior Sixth Layer, Chen Dalong himself was Warrior Eighth Layer!

Six and eight are two layers apart, with a full layer of Seventh Layer between them.

Their strength differed by hundreds of jin; their Yuan Wheel strength and energy reserves were vastly unequal, not to mention mastery of techniques—there was no comparison!

Chen Dalong was confident he could easily defeat Cang Luo, so he saw no need to act yet—he believed the more arrogant Cang Luo became now, the more agonizing his downfall would be.

Besides, he wanted to see if Cang Luo had any hidden tricks—he wasn’t as reckless or dismissive as his younger brother, Chen Dahu.

Still, though Chen Dalong didn’t move to help, he ordered Wang Lei, still stunned: “You go assist.”

Wang Lei, bound by Chen Dalong’s command, had no choice—he hesitated briefly, then charged at Cang Luo with his strongest technique.

Seeing the short boy rushing toward him, Cang Luo sneered, grabbed Zhang Youliang’s arms, twisted them off their sockets, and kicked him away in one motion.

The entire process took only two seconds—plenty of time to brush the dust off his clothes and wait for Wang Lei to attack.

Wang Lei, witnessing how effortlessly Cang Luo dismantled Zhang Youliang—who was his own equal—was stunned again, instinctively slowing his advance, and glanced helplessly at Chen Dalong.

The message was clear: if Zhang Youliang couldn’t beat him, how could I?

Wang Lei was terrified, wanting to flee—but when he met Chen Dalong’s icy gaze, he abandoned the thought immediately.

Unless he wanted to die in the Xuantian Sect—disobeying his leader meant certain death, so he had no choice but to advance.

So what if he got beaten? The boy was probably only Warrior Fifth or Sixth Layer—could he really kill me in one blow?

“Ahh!”

After steeling himself, Wang Lei roared, unleashing his stored power with a Tiger Subduing Fist aimed straight at Cang Luo’s face.

The punch tore through the air with a “whoosh,” its force rivaling Chen Dahu’s earlier strike.

Wang Lei’s punch moved like lightning—but to Cang Luo, it was painfully slow, as if played in slow motion.

With his satellite motion-tracking ability, Cang Luo saw every movement of Wang Lei with perfect clarity.

He sneered, sidestepped slightly, and countered with a punch straight to the man’s abdomen—the force jolted Wang Lei, who spat out a mouthful of blood.

That punch had ruptured Wang Lei’s internal organs; without an elixir, he’d need at least a month to recover.

Enraged, Wang Lei hadn’t expected Cang Luo to strike so brutally—he gritted his teeth and lunged for Cang Luo’s throat, trying to snap his neck.

Cang Luo sneered, stepped back half a pace to evade the clawing grasp.

Simultaneously, his right hand seized Wang Lei’s right wrist, while his left fist smashed into his elbow joint.

A sharp “crack” echoed—Wang Lei’s arm bent outward at a ninety-degree angle.

“Aaaah...”

Wang Lei’s scream was ear-splitting; even Chen Dalong, watching from the sidelines, and the incapacitated Zhang Youliang flinched as if feeling it themselves, drawing sharp breaths.

“So ruthless, so decisive!”

Chen Dalong frowned—he felt Cang Luo’s transformation was too sudden. How had he become so calm and merciless all at once?

Had his earlier fear been an act?

Wang Lei’s right arm was broken—he was no longer combat-capable—but Cang Luo showed no intention of sparing him.

Why waste a free human punching bag?

He’d finally found someone to spar with—he had to apply everything he’d learned in practice.

Cang Luo moved fluidly, unleashing a series of combos onto Wang Lei.

Kicks, strikes, throws, locks, twists, joint-seals...

He targeted every joint and vulnerable point on Wang Lei’s body, dislocating every single one.

He didn’t even use Thunder Palm—this was to conserve Yuan awareness.

Cang Luo casually clapped his hands, then kicked the unconscious Wang Lei over beside Zhang Youliang.

Zhang Youliang watched in terror, nearly wetting himself.

He felt immense relief—he was glad he’d been the first to attack; without Wang Lei drawing Cang Luo’s attention, he’d be the one lying broken on the ground.

At the same time, Zhang Youliang was deeply confused—how had Cang Luo improved so drastically in just twenty days?

Not just his cultivation base—when had he learned that specialized joint-striking fist technique?

No one ever said the Low-grade Yellow-level technique had any set forms!

Zhang Youliang couldn’t understand—he trembled as he hid behind Chen Dalong, stammering: “Cang Luo, I never thought you’d be so cruel, daring to harm fellow sect members!

Brother Chen, first cripple his cultivation base to avenge Brother Wang, then capture him and deliver him to the Discipline Hall for judgment.”

“Pfft!” Cang Luo sneered. “So what if I’m cruel? You were trying to kill me—do you expect mercy?”

“I advise you to run now while your legs still work. Otherwise, you’ll end up just like this short fool.”

“Y-you dare threaten me...” Zhang Youliang instinctively glanced at Wang Lei and edged closer to Chen Dalong.

“What ‘you’? What ‘you’?!” Cang Luo dismissed him, turning to Chen Dalong: “Enough wasting time—new grudges and old ones end today.

One of us dies today.”

“Clap... clap... clap...”

Chen Dalong clapped slowly, stepping forward with a serious expression. “Brilliant, brilliant—Brother Cang, your fist technique was exquisite.

What’s its name? What martial art does it belong to?”

On the Yuanwu Continent, martial arts were traditionally taught with set forms and sequences to maximize efficiency.

But after the emergence of technique jade plaques, such forms gradually fell out of use—only weapon arts or High-grade Yellow-level or higher fist/foot and body movement techniques still came with them.

For Low-grade Yellow-level fist and foot techniques, you only received a jade plaque teaching you how to use the art—the forms and sequences were left to personal insight or consultation with others.

In fact, the Xuantian Sect’s stewards were originally meant to teach these forms and sequences.

Cang Luo smiled and declared clearly: “Huaxia Military Boxing!”

Chen Dalong blinked. “Huaxia Military Boxing? A military martial art?

What army? Border guards? Imperial Guard? Or the Great Wall defenders?”

Cang Luo shook his head, unwilling to explain—should I tell you Huaxia Military Boxing was taught to me by elite warriors of the Huaxia Fenglin Huoshan Combat Group? You wouldn’t understand.

During his training in the Monster Forest, Cang Luo divided his day—excluding meals—into three parts.

The first was daytime combat against monsters.

The second was evening study time, where he learned combat techniques via video call from the elite warriors of the Fenglin Huoshan Combat Group—eliminating all flashy moves, focusing purely on lethal efficiency.

A martial art forged by refining the essence and discarding the dross from Jeet Kune Do, Muay Thai, Tai Chi, Ba Ji Quan, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and others.

It is the mandatory close-quarters combat system for all Huaxia military branches—called Huaxia Military Boxing!

The third part was nighttime cultivation of the Annihilation Body Divine Art.

Just two days ago, Cang Luo finally completed the first layer of the Annihilation Body Divine Art—this was one reason he remained unshaken when Chen Dalong and the others came for him...