https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-256-The-Great-Battle-Against-Wang-Zong-Please-Support-with-Monthly-Tickets-/13686787/
Chapter 255: Qingshi Haoquan (Thanks to 'I Am a Reader' for the Grand Sponsorship)
Wang Yin’s words hadn’t even finished echoing when his Semi-Automatic Runeless Casting activated—streams of divine light and auspicious energy descended from the heavens, pouring into his body.
But in the next instant, the Divine Power Network trembled violently. Wang Yin felt his connection to it snap shut. The Semi-Automatic Lushu he’d been using instantly ceased functioning.
The eight-layered divine light that had hovered behind his head flickered like a faulty neon sign—flashing once, twice—before slowly fading into nothingness.
The colossal dragon, forged from raging winds and once crouched at his feet, writhed violently before dissolving back into swirling gales, scattering sand and dust across the sky and earth.
Without the dragon’s support, Wang Yin plummeted from the heavens like a falling meteor, hurtling toward the ground.
Yet despite the rushing wind and the ground rushing up to meet him, there was no fear on his face. He simply crossed his arms, letting gravity pull him down without resistance.
Inside his mind, he murmured: “Is the opposing Zheng Shen temporarily sealing off this network?”
He knew, however, that such a seal couldn’t last long. The Zheng Shen on his side must already be frantically working to restore the Divine Power Network. Soon enough, his Semi-Automatic Lushu would be functional again.
And besides…
“Even without spells, without Divine Power support—so what?”
As Zhang Yu surged toward him at breakneck speed, Wang Yin let out a cold chuckle. “You really think I can’t fight you without spells?”
With a thunderous roar, Zhang Yu leapt into the air, his Wuxiang Yun'gang surging violently across his body. A deep, dragon-elephant roar echoed through the sky as he slammed one palm downward toward Wang Yin.
The sheer force seemed to drain the air around them, creating a vacuum. A violent windstorm exploded outward, kicking up a storm of dust and debris.
But Wang Yin didn’t dodge. Didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised a fist, bent his elbow slightly, and met Zhang Yu’s palm with a single, brutal punch—meeting force with force.
Logically, Wang Yin was falling from the sky, with no ground to push off from. Zhang Yu, on the other hand, had charged forward with full momentum—clearly holding the advantage in position.
Yet when their fists collided, a deafening explosion split the air. Shockwaves rippled outward in all directions. Zhang Yu felt his bones cracking under the impact, as if being crushed by a thousand pulsing waves of force.
For a split second, he froze mid-air—then, with a massive boom, he crashed back onto the earth, cratering the ground beneath him.
But Zhang Yu wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t expected to win in one blow. This initial strike had merely been a test—to gauge his opponent’s strength.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, he already had a rough assessment: “Physical Strength Level is higher than mine, but Martial Energy output isn’t significantly greater.”
Meanwhile, Wang Yin had already landed with perfect balance. Hands folded across his chest, he stared calmly at Zhang Yu.
“You’ve improved your Martial Energy, but your Physical Strength hasn’t advanced much. So during your Foundation Establishment, you must’ve used a Qi Sea-type Celestial Spirit Root, right?”
He paused, then added with a smirk: “And now you’re thinking—‘Since I’ve discarded my cultivation, my remaining Martial Energy isn’t much higher than yours, and I only have a slight edge in Physical Strength. We’re evenly matched?’”
Zhang Yu snorted coldly. “You talk too much.”
At once, his Qi Hai Linggen surged into full operation. Within a hundred-meter radius, Spirit Energy was violently drawn in, replenishing the Martial Energy he’d expended.
With a thunderous crack, his Wuxiang Yun'gang erupted again, the ground beneath him collapsing further as the surge of power cracked the earth into layers.
White waves of Wuxiang Yun'gang erupted from his body, surging outward like a storm, blanketing the entire battlefield.
Ignoring the thick mist swirling around him, Wang Yin spoke calmly: “I gave you a chance—this clash was just to see what you’re worth now. Whether you’re better suited for freezing or for refrigeration.”
He paused.
“Now… the real fight begins.”
From within the mist, Zhang Yu’s silhouette emerged—his palm rising with a roar like a dragon and elephant, slamming toward Wang Yin’s back.
But Wang Yin didn’t move. Only a crimson aura shimmered around him—each ripple a face, twisted and screaming, forming a wall of blood-red phantoms in front of him.
With every inch Zhang Yu’s palm advanced, more than a dozen of those blood-faced specters were shattered. Their burst of crimson light created a thick, resistant fog—like thousands of layers of flesh blocking his path.
The deeper Zhang Yu pressed, the more resistance he met. The force of his strike was slowly drained by the sheer density of the blood-light barrier.
After pushing forward five inches, the momentum of his attack was utterly spent.
Wang Yin’s voice came from behind the blood barrier: “You don’t even have the right to touch me.”
Zhang Yu remained silent. Instead, he swung his other palm, unleashing a violent gust that detonated the air—only to be stopped again by the same wall of blood-light.
Wang Yin spoke softly: “This artifact of mine is called Mingyou Xueying Zhao. It can refine living souls into spectral guardians.”
He continued, “Each phantom can block a peak Qi Refinement-level strike.”
“I bought tens of thousands of ordinary human souls from the First Layer, refined them, and sealed them into this artifact. How long do you think it’ll take you to break through?”
Zhang Yu’s eyes narrowed. “This bastard…”
He paused, then muttered: “Is he… advertising?”
To Zhang Yu, it was absurd. In the middle of battle, this man was calmly explaining his artifact in detail—too clearly, too deliberately.
Was he trying to sell the Mingyou Xueying Zhao?
But Wang Yin didn’t respond. Instead, he addressed the hidden camera on his person: “Tens of thousands of souls—worth a fortune in the Second Layer. It’d take years of labor to afford.”
“But buying the same number from the First Layer? Ten times cheaper.”
He paused, then added: “And that’s not even the cheapest. Next time, I’ll show you where souls are even more worthless—where the buying power of the First Layer makes human flesh truly… affordable.”
Zhang Yu suddenly understood.
Wang Yin wasn’t advertising a weapon.
He was promoting the First Layer—selling the idea that souls, and human flesh, were dirt cheap there.
The realization ignited a furious rage within him. The white scattered cow in his mind let out a blood-curdling roar. The Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique surged into overdrive, sending tremors through his muscles and Martial Energy, making every fiber of his body vibrate with raw intensity.
Wang Yin, meanwhile, said calmly: “Alright. This fight is over.”
In an instant, a terrifying presence erupted from his body.
“No… not just power,” Zhang Yu realized, his expression darkening. “That’s… 拳意.”
Having studied the Tianwu Cultivation of the Heart Scripture, Zhang Yu knew that Quanyi—拳意—was a form of Martial Dao Intention, just like Sword Intent or Blade Intent. It was cultivated through the Heart Method of martial arts and could unleash countless effects.
The Tianwu Heart Scripture’s Dao Intention allowed Zhang Yu to enter Full Concentration, sharpening his reflexes.
But Wang Yin’s Quanyi was different. It didn’t just affect the mind—it warped the very flow of Spirit Energy across the battlefield.
Especially as Wang Yin slowly formed a fist—like he was about to crush the entire Spirit Energy field within hundreds of meters into his palm.
Zhang Yu felt the air grow thin. Spirit Energy vanished, as if drained from existence. His Qi Hai Linggen struggled to gather even a fraction of it.
“Can Quanyi really manipulate Spirit Energy like this?” Zhang Yu had never seen anything like it.
What he didn’t know was that Wang Yin’s martial art consisted of two techniques: Qingshi Haoquan, a boxing style, and Dizhe Huangxin, a heart-mind cultivation method.
Long ago, these were created by an ancient emperor—one who wielded the imperial heart to master the brutal fist. Together, the two arts could generate supreme Quanyi.
But now, with no emperors left, the imperial heart had vanished. The arts had faded into obscurity—until decades ago, the emperor’s descendant rebuilt them using unimaginable wealth, conquering a city and reshaping the world. In doing so, he forged a supreme Quanyi.
Now, Wang Yin unleashed just one move—Tiantian Shi.
The move flooded the battlefield with supreme Quanyi, dominating hundreds of meters. It could not only crush the enemy’s spirit, but also monopolize up to 99% of the Spirit Energy—preventing any recovery.
Though Wang Yin couldn’t fully monopolize 99%, he still controlled 70%. Zhang Yu immediately felt the thinning energy, his Martial Energy regeneration slowing to a crawl.
After Tiantian Shi, Wang Yin clenched his fist and struck—firing a single, concentrated punch toward Zhang Yu from a distance.
Qingshi Haoquan — Lingyong Shi!
As Wang Yin’s Quanyi surged, the 70% of Spirit Energy he controlled suddenly surged toward the target point.
The energy compressed, expanded—then, with a sudden, deafening boom—exploded.
No warning.
No resistance.
Zhang Yu’s vision went white. His skull rang as if struck by an invisible bomb.
Seeing Wang Yin prepare his second punch, Zhang Yu forced himself upward, twisting his body. Wuxiang Yun'gang flared around him, and he leapt several meters away.
Boom!
The spot where he’d stood exploded—cratering the earth.
Then came a barrage of explosions—boom, boom, boom, boom—each one a thunderous punch, each one detonating wherever Wang Yin’s Quanyi had locked on.
Through the thick mist, it was as if a monstrous beast were writhing and tearing through the battlefield. Within moments, the white Wuxiang Yun'gang was shattered in half.
Partly because of the overwhelming power of Wang Yin’s Lingyong Shi, and partly because Zhang Yu had stopped spreading his energy wide—now he focused it, using it to defend against each incoming blow.
Boom!
Zhang Yu braced with both arms, Wuxiang Yun'gang surging. His body-protection techniques activated, and he absorbed the shock of the explosion—still staggering backward, but standing firm.
“Let me say it again,” Wang Yin continued, raining down punch after punch, each one triggering another explosion. “You don’t even have the right to get close.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
