Chapter 237: Battle II

The moonlight, as if washed clean, poured down onto the streets where the slaughter took place, illuminating everything with a clarity that was both sharp and hazy.

The duel between Wu Feng and Yan Hua reached a white-hot stage amidst the intense clash of swordsmanship; their figures moved rapidly under the moonlight, sword light weaving together to create a series of heart-stopping scenes.

"Hah!" With a violent shout, Yan Hua's figure surged upward, the long sword in his hand transforming into a bolt of silver lightning, striking straight for Wu Feng's throat.

Wu Feng shifted his body to the side, skillfully avoiding this fatal blow, while simultaneously thrusting his long sword upward; the tip of his blade tapped lightly against Yan Hua's sword, emitting a crisp metallic clashing sound as sparks flew in all directions.

Both of their sword techniques had reached a state of pure perfection, every move and stance containing deep Blood Qi and exquisite skill. As the sword shadows intertwined, one could only see silver light flickering, resembling two silver dragons entangled in mid-air, locked in an inseparable struggle.

As time passed, both men's stamina and Blood Qi were constantly being depleted, yet their fighting spirit grew ever higher.

Wu Feng's gaze became increasingly resolute, and every swing of his sword grew more fierce, as if he intended to concentrate all his strength into this single strike.

Having not experienced such fierce slaughter in over a dozen years, Wu Feng was using Yan Hua to find his own state; one must know that the Wu Feng of yesteryear was also a ruthless character who could fight an entire gang by himself.

As for Yan Hua, he fought with increasing courage; his sword technique began to become more agile and varied, attempting to find a flaw in Wu Feng.

Wu Feng suddenly paused his movements, held his long sword horizontally before his chest, and closed his eyes to focus; he had regained his state, so now it was time to unleash his trump card.

Seeing this, Yan Hua felt a chill in his heart and was about to press his advantage, but he only saw Wu Feng suddenly open his eyes, a brilliant light shooting from them as his long sword tore through the night sky like lightning, striking straight for Yan Hua's heart pulse:

"Purple Extremity Arrives from the East."

This strike gathered all of Wu Feng's Blood Qi and will; its speed and power were so great that Yan Hua was caught off guard. He tried his best to swing his sword in defense, but only heard a "Crack!" as his long sword was actually severed by Wu Feng's strike, the tip of the blade pointing directly at his chest.

Yan Hua's expression changed drastically, but he did not retreat; instead, using his final ounce of strength, he threw the broken sword in his hand at Wu Feng while simultaneously retreating violently, attempting to escape this certain-death situation.

Wu Feng flashed his body, easily avoiding the flying broken sword, and thrust his sword straight into Yan Hua's chest.

Today, Yan Hua would undoubtedly die.

Yan Hua's eyes stared fixedly at Wu Feng, a large amount of fresh blood gushing from his mouth.

He raised his hand with difficulty, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and a bitter smile appeared on his face.

"I never expected... that I, Yan Hua, would actually die at your hands..."

Wu Feng's expression remained indifferent; he watched Yan Hua quietly without speaking.

Yan Hua coughed a few times and continued, "However, don't be happy too soon... *cough, cough*... very soon, someone will come to avenge me..."

Wu Feng looked at the Yan Hua before him with an impatient expression, and with a wave of the long sword in his hand, a cold light flashed: "Let's see if your Red Star Gang can even survive tonight first."

In an instant, Yan Hua's head was severed, fresh blood spraying out like a gushing spring, and his body collapsed to the ground.

That severed head rolled in the air, finally landing on the ground and rolling a distance before stopping. Meanwhile, blood continuously gushed from the neck of Yan Hua's headless corpse, forming a fountain of blood.

The surrounding Red Star Gang disciples, seeing their own Deputy Sect Leader die just like that at Wu Feng's hands, trembled and dared not step forward; Wu Feng ignored these small fry of the Red Star Gang, for even though his Blood Qi was significantly depleted, he was absolutely not someone these small fry could approach.

Wu Feng stood by the shattered window frame, his gaze like a torch, piercing through the night as he stared intently at the subtle changes in the situation below. Though he felt fatigue in his heart, he was waiting more for the final result between the two gangs.

The slaughter of the people below could not affect the overall situation; only the top-tier Martial Artists could determine the outcome of the victory.

Inside the teahouse, Cheng Feng and Xie Lin were engaged in close-quarters combat within the cramped space; the confrontation between the two had reached a white-hot stage.

Xie Lin used his full-strength Fierce Wind Palm, every strike carrying a whistling wind that seemed capable of tearing the air apart, yet it could only leave faint marks on Cheng Feng's rock-solid body, seemingly having little effect.

Xie Lin was shocked: this brat also practiced Horizontal Training???

A faint smile curled at the corner of Cheng Feng's mouth; even though his Bronze Statue Technique was only just at the entry level, under the support of Cheng Feng's own Bone Refining Realm Blood Qi, the effect was remarkable.

"A fine piece of Horizontal Training! Cheng Feng, you truly hid yourself deep!" Xie Lin gasped, a flash of unwillingness and anger in his eyes.

If this continued, he would undoubtedly be defeated. Xie Lin took a deep breath, the Blood Qi within his body surging; he was actually going to unleash his ultimate trump card technique.

"Fierce Wind Boundless!" Xie Lin shouted violently, his aura surging throughout his body, his palm wind extremely fierce as it transformed into a tornado, bearing down straight upon Cheng Feng. This strike condensed his lifelong cultivation and conviction, swearing to crush Cheng Feng in one blow.

Cheng Feng did not change his expression; his figure moved slightly, actually avoiding this fatal blow at the very last split second. He did not choose to meet force with force, but instead utilized his agile Chaotic Void Steps to maneuver within the cramped space, searching for an opportunity to counterattack.

"Sect Leader Xie, you are indeed very strong, but you are not young anymore; it is time to step down and yield to the worthy. Furthermore, victory or defeat often lies in that thin line of difference." Cheng Feng's voice was calm and firm.

He suddenly accelerated, appearing behind Xie Lin like a ghost, and a heavy punch imbued with the Violent Blood Secret Method landed fiercely on Xie Lin's back.

"Bang!" With a muffled thud, Xie Lin's body flew out like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily against the wall; he spat out blood, his face pale as paper. He raised his head with difficulty and looked at Cheng Feng, his eyes full of disbelief.

"I... I lost..." Xie Lin's voice was weak but filled with bitterness. He knew deeply that this defeat not only meant the end of his own Martial Dao, but also that the destruction of the Red Star Gang was a foregone conclusion.

Just at this moment, the sounds of slaughter outside the teahouse gradually subsided; the battle seemed to be nearing its end.

The Red Star Gang disciples, having lost their Deputy Sect Leader, saw their morale plummet, no longer possessing their previous sharp edge.

In the Hong Sect's camp, thirty burly men radiating a bronze-colored glow were particularly eye-catching. These people were like copper walls and iron bastions; ordinary blades and swords had no effect on them, unable to even leave a single mark on their bodies.

Each person brandished a thick, sturdy sentry staff in their hands, their strength so great it was astonishing. Their attacks were as fierce as a rainstorm, making it difficult for the enemy to parry.

Soon, under the brave charge of these thirty burly men, the other Hong Sect disciples also launched attacks one after another, defeating the remnants of the Red Star Gang one by one.

The night grew deeper, and everything inside and outside the teahouse seemed to return to calm. But beneath this calm, a contest regarding power, interests, and the Martial Dao had only just drawn to a close.