Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 734 - 39: The Destitute, Rotten Scholars and Good-for-nothings (5500 words combined) _2

Chapter 734 -39: The Destitute, Rotten Scholars and Good-for-nothings (5500 words combined) _2

At that moment, Wu Qiong directly pinpointed the pain in his heart, his face twisted into a grimace. He knew Wu Qiong might be doing this on purpose, but his mood had already become extreme. With a cold laugh, he said to his opponent, “You are merely a scholar whose meridians have been destroyed and whose realm has greatly fallen. Even if you once could compare to a grandmaster, now you are at most at the Fifth Rank Realm.”

No matter how eloquently reasoned or beautifully written an article of one or two, or even a thousand pounds might be, it’s all settled by the matter of one sword.

His right hand rose, resting on the hilt of his sword.

A fierce sword qi surged upward. It seemed Wu Qiong had long been waiting there, for the moment he drew his sword, Wu Qiong waved his sleeve and a heavy, iron-like vigorous qi slammed towards him. There stood two Middle Third Rank experts, one who had been immersed in the Fifth Rank Realm of Sword Dao for twenty years, and the other who had once almost touched the Heavenly Sect’s ultimate.

The robust qi roared like clouds while the sword qi on the other side was sharp, piercing through it.

In an instant, they had exchanged dozens of moves.

Wu Qiong coughed up blood from the corner of his mouth, yet still shouted, “Treacherous and ungrateful! The sovereign had saved your life back then, bestowed upon you Gold and Silver, and even taught you Martial Arts and Swordsmanship, and this is how you repay him?!”

Wei Qianfeng’s eyes were bloodshot. His qi mechanism was far less enduring than Wu Qiong’s. Fearing that opening his mouth would release thousands of fierce sword qi energies from his chest and abdomen, he focused solely on engaging fiercely with his sword, but his heart filled with increasing hatred. Had Jiang Yang passed on that secret manual to him back in the day, how could he have remained trapped in this Fifth Rank Realm for twenty years?

Whether it was the Jianghu Martial Artists disguised as escort masters from the Escort Agency or those swordsmen from the sects, they all staggered back, afraid of being caught in the vigorous qi of the clash and dying miserably.

Wang Anfeng watched calmly from the side, his breathing steady, a faint glimmer shimmering in his eyes like the undercurrents in the north sea stirring ripples incessantly. Since the age of thirteen, he had spent a significant amount of time each day cultivating the Pupil Skill at Shaolin Temple, and now his Pupil Skill had already reached an exquisite level, comparable to that of hawks and falcons.

Under full concentration, he almost had the ability to perceive qi, not the so-called qi of mountains and dragons and tigers from the Taoist Sects, but the qi mechanisms of Martial Artists clashing.

The words Wu Qiong had said were not entirely useless. Wei Qianfeng’s sword momentum grew more ferocious, yet it was not as fluid and unobstructed as before. At the thirty-seventh move, Wang Anfeng finally spotted a flaw. His palm flickered slightly and the Copper Coin in his hand shot out explosively.

It smashed forward as if hurling the entire Kunlun Mountains.

With a thunderous roar, Wei Qianfeng felt a sharp pain in his wrist. The ancient sword wailed incessantly. The vigorous qi that previously wrapped around his body like Iron Armor had already been shattered.

But he had lingered in the Fifth Rank Realm for twenty years. With a Taoist sword qi in his belly, he managed to forcefully withstand this attack, staggering back a few steps before stabilizing his body and mind, his qi mechanism endlessly flowing again.

This kind of skill, which requires decades of relentless cultivation and painstaking refinement daily, was difficult even for those with innate Martial Arts genius to achieve. Even with just this skill, Wei Qianfeng, regarded as one of the top second-tier figures among the entire realm of millions in Jianghu, granted his renown.

Yet at this moment, there was still a Confucian scholar who, though fallen, firmly stood at the Fifth Rank Realm.

The weighty qi of Clean Sleeves opened Wei Qianfeng’s long sword in one stroke, and the other, carrying Wu Qiong’s rage, smashed exhilaratingly into Wei Qianfeng’s chest and abdomen, shattering his protective Gang Qi that had already been broken, solidly connecting a hit even without prior injury, requiring some time for recoalescing.

Wei Qianfeng’s face paled instantly, he forcefully maintained a breath of True Qi without dispersing, his feet planted on the ground, sliding backwards ten meters, slamming into an aged brick wall of an inn’s courtyard, shattering it immediately, only barely managing to dissipate the force.

The ground beneath his feet instantly collapsed, sending up surging waves of qi.

Blood streamed from the corners of his mouth.

Just then, from the mulberry woods next to the inn, suddenly was thrown an object spiraling towards Wei Qianfeng and others; when it hit the ground in front of him, it turned out to be a middle-aged swordsman dressed in black, with an appearance slightly refined but already lifeless, his eyes wide open in death.

Tian Zhide, whose nerves were tense, was startled, recognizing that this body was the Sixth Rank swordsman previously killed by Divine Martial Mansion. Then he remembered Feng An bending down to grab this body onto the horse. At that time, he was worried about his junior brother, and although slightly puzzled, he hadn’t asked more.

Seeing this body thrown out now, he immediately realized Feng An was still here, anxiously stirred up a hint of anger, yet felt somewhat moved.

In his eyes, since the body was hurled at Wei Qianfeng, but suddenly falling, it was obviously because Feng An lacked Martial Arts skills to carry enough force, yet the same incident appeared completely different in the eyes of others.

Wei Qianfeng and Wu Qiong saw it carrying an ease as if lifting a heavy weight as if it were light.

The white-haired swordsman’s expression changed several times. Currently, his chest and abdomen still roared with qi, slightly affected, yet he could forcefully kill the scholar without much problem by clashing with brute force. However, recalling the force of the Hidden Weapon that had hit his sword earlier, he knew there was another master he must be cautious of, still guarding besides.

If he lingered any longer, he feared it would likely be disastrous, and he might jeopardize himself.

His eyes flickered fiercely, he took another deep look at Jiang Lan, whose demeanor remained unchanged and unfazed. This person, who could offer a chance to ascend step by step to the Heavenly Sect, was right before him, yet Wei Qianfeng forcibly suppressed the venom-like desire in his heart, slowly sheathed his sword, and said: