Chapter 250 - Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art
Chapter 250 - Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art
"I already told you, it's not Ten Thousand Cold Sacred Ice True Art. It's the Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art. If that’s too much of a mouthful for you, just call it Ice Cold True Art, Sacred Ice True Art, or even Ten Thousand Cold True Art." Saint Feinan sounded a little exasperated.
However, his hands started moving immediately. His right hand slid swiftly over his slender waist, and the black belt he wore suddenly came loose. The bright sunlight streamed through the clouds and illuminated the clearing.
The belt was about as thick as a finger and gleamed with a metallic sheen under the light. Upon closer inspection, it was evident that this was no ordinary belt, but rather a whip that was over two meters long. It was composed of nearly a hundred segments, each about the length of a finger. The material was neither wood nor metal, and had a matte finish. The whole thing resembled a long black centipede, and in truth, that was precisely what it was—a centipede.
Once known as Blood Fist or Kill Fist due to his vicious combat style and brutal fist techniques, Feng Liusi had made many enemies early in his career. In short, he had few friends and many foes. Saint Feinan was his only friend among experts of his level.
Saint Feinan was the unlucky fellow who, during Feng Liusi's Qi deviation, had been severely injured by the disoriented Blood Fist and spent half a year in recovery. Fortunately, once he understood what had happened to Feng Liusi, Saint Feinan did not blame him.
When Feng Liusi recovered and decided to hop back into action, the first person he reached out to was his old friend. Some tasks were beyond what his capability, he needed more hands on deck.
Saint Feinan was a combat artist from the northern Laurent County. Winters in Laurent County were particularly harsh. The Montu Mountain range to the north of the county was especially cold, with icy winds that only grew fiercer the further one traveled north. The Montu Mountain range shielded the south from the worst of the freezing winds, but there were valleys where the winds slipped through. The largest of these valleys was known as the Frost Gap, where ferocious gales and blizzards howled through every year.
Saint Feinan's martial arts sect lived like ascetics near the Frost Gap, enduring the harsh conditions because the ancient Sacred Ice Ten thousand Cold True Art that they practiced required such an environment for training.
But these ascetics shared this extreme cold region with a peculiar type of centipede. Normally, these centipedes were black and indistinguishable from ordinary centipedes, but at night, they glowed blue like fireflies, resembling luminous blue crystals.
Saint Feinan’s whip was made from the shell of one such blue crystal centipede. These centipedes were rare and their carapaces were harder and sharper than steel. It perfectly complemented the properties of the Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art. The whip became a formidable weapon when used with Special Techniques.
In the hands of an ordinary combat artist, the whip wouldn’t be much more effective than a pistol, but it was a deadly weapon in the hands of a top-tier combat artist like Saint Feinan. Of course, blue crystal centipedes were incredibly rare, and mass production was impossible. Saint Feinan's martial arts sect had only managed to craft three whips.
Thus, Saint Feinan hesitated when he pulled out his blue crystal whip. He didn’t want to harm Feng Liusi's student, but when Feng Liusi urged him on, he finally made his move.
The situation seemed eerily similar to the time Feng Liusi had succumbed to madness. Saint Feinan knew that while his actions might injure Cassius, stopping him was the priority. If they allowed his rampage to continue, the consequences would be far worse. Saint Feinan knew what needed to be done.
He flicked his right hand and the long black whip that had been dragging on the ground stiffened and stood upright like a long sword. Saint Feinan’s eyes took on a faint blue hue as the whip in his hand transformed into a translucent blue crystal sword.
This transformation wasn’t a result of the Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art but rather a property of the whip’s hase material. Despite the sweltering heat, the sword emitted a cold mist.
Taking a deep breath, Saint Feinan resolved to act decisively. Since he had already drawn his weapon, there was no need to worry about hurting Cassius. His whip’s sword form was far more compatible with the Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art than its whip form.
"I'll end this right here, right now with the sword form."
His voice echoed in Feng Liusi's ears. Blood Fist, who was retreating after taking a punch from Cassius, only caught a glimpse of a white figure out of the corner of his eye.
Saint Feinan’s footsteps barely touched the ground as he moved in a distinct rhythm. He looked like he was flickering in and out of existence. But he was getting closer to Cassius with each seeming teleportation, and his blue crystal sword left a long streak of icy mist in the air behind him.
"Wait..." When Saint Feinan sprang into action, Feng Liusi raised a hand to stop him, but then let it drop.
Two seconds later—
Boom!
A white-haired figure came spinning through the air like a broken rag doll. He managed to twist midair before landing awkwardly on the ground.
Saint Feinan staggered as he landed, the crystal sword in his hand going limp like a whip as its energy drained away. He glanced at Feng Liusi, feeling a fiery pain in his chest and a strange urge to cough up blood. Saint Feinan had used his long sword to block, but Cassius's punch had still broken through his sword and hit his chest. At the same time, he wanted to cough up blood because Feng Liusi's disciple was simply too monstrous.
When he felt the punch land, Saint Feinan was irresistibly reminded of the time he visited Feng Liusi in Death Canyon and got hit so hard he coughed up blood. He felt a familiar sense of misfortune creeping over him.
Feng Liusi saw Saint Feinan’s accusing eyes and retorted, "You rushed in too fast for me to warn you. Cassius just defeated a veteran combat artist of Evil Eye Fist. Right now, he's using a Secret Technique to enhance his strength and physique. Don't try to engage him in close combat—you’ll get killed. Just use the cold energy from your Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art to slow him down. Leave the rest to me."
Feng Liusi darted forward as soon as he finished. His foot slammed into the ground as he launched a powerful punch.
Boom!
The two fists collided so fiercely that the impact shattered the ground beneath them. The impact caused a chain reaction, as the floor several meters behind them buckled and rose like a bridge.
Crack, crack, crack...
Feng Liusi quickly withdrew his hand, the air around them vibrating from the energy released in the clash.
Cassius staggered back three steps, the muscles in his right forearm twitching before suddenly rupturing. Four to five bloody cracks appeared on his skin as Feng Liusi’s Death's Fang technique invaded his body.
"Is it really okay to go this hard on your student? You might cripple him with your Death's Fang," Saint Feinan remarked, his eye twitching at Cassius's injured arm.
But even as he spoke, he quickly moved into action. He flashed to the side with a flick of his foot. The blue crystal whip cracked through the air with a sharp snap, drawing a bloody gash on Cassius's muscled back. The wound was surrounded by a swirling, cold energy that seemed to linger like a soft but persistent chill.
Saint Feinan continued to lash out, his blue crystal whip striking Cassius’s joints like a viper. The rapid succession of blows, each aimed at weakening his speed and reflexes, was enhanced by the cold energy from the Sacred Ice Ten Thousand Cold True Art. The accumulated chill would eventually numb the muscles, constrict the blood vessels, and freeze the flesh.
"Arctic Double Arc!"
Saint Feinan's eyes flared with a deep blue light as his right hand became a blur. In the next instant, two dark blue lines seemed to move slowly through the air. But it was incredibly precise. The tip of the whip struck Cassius’s broad shoulder like a needle. The skin split open, and the blood instantly crystallized, blooming into an icy red flower.
When he saw Cassius almost entirely enveloped by the cold energy, Saint Feinan started the motion for another blow. However, the sharp-eyed Feng Liusi rushed forward, shouting, "Saint Feinan, let go!"
"Huh?"
Saint Feinan suddenly felt an overpowering force yanking on the whip in his hand. Unable to resist, he stumbled forward several steps. But just as he regained his footing, he saw a massive black fist rocketing toward his head like a cannonball.
The fist grew larger in his vision, veins and knuckles becoming clearer with every moment. The compressed air roared as it hurtled toward him.
Saint Feinan flinched.
Feng Liusi shouted, "Detonate!"
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!
A series of muffled explosions erupted from Cassius's body. The Death's Fang Force that had been embedded in him during his earlier exchanges with Feng Liusi ignited. Blood sprayed from his joints as the freezing cold energy forced his body to lock up.
The roaring fist stopped inches from Saint Feinan's face.
Saint Feinan was sweating bullets. Even though Cassius’s punch had stopped, the gust of air that followed it stung Saint Feinan’s cheeks and caused his long hair to whip around wildly.
Saint Feinan swallowed hard and stepped back. "Feng Liusi, your disciple’s more terrifying than you when he loses control. The two of us barely managed to contain him."
Feng Liusi shook his head. "We didn’t. The Death's Fang Force inside Cassius has been drained."
His gaze shifted toward the muscular giant, who was now standing motionless like a statue. Cassius had closed his eyes, and the cross-shaped mark on his forehead was flickering with light. His body was covered with countless injuries, along with traces of frostbite on his joints and skin. Despite his incredibly tough physique, fighting against two veteran combat artists had left him battered and bruised.
Saint Feinan followed Feng Luisi’s eyes to the blood-drenched Cassius. "Feng Liusi, how can your disciple go with you anymore to take care of that matter? It would take at least six months for him to recover. I'm afraid..."
He stopped mid-sentence, as he sensed something amiss. He stepped closer for a better look, and upon realizing what was happening, he gasped.
"This recovery... This physique... What kind of Covert Martial Arts technique is this?!"
Cassius had not moved but the wounds on his chest were healing before Saint Feinan's very eyes. The wounds were contracting and closing, while his skin was reconnecting and seamlessly stitching together.
Although the injuries inflicted by Feng Liusi and Saint Feinan had seemed severe, they hadn't damaged any bones or severed any limbs. Cassius’s regenerative abilities were greatly enhanced in his Golem state, which was a trait he had inherited from dark creatures like the Golem. This was part of their immortality. The same regeneration helped him recover after his chest had been blown open during his last battle with Feng Liusi, and even when his heart had been completely crushed. In comparison to those injuries, his current wounds were nothing.
Feng Liusi glanced at the shocked Saint Feinan and, remembering the group of ragtag disciples under his wing, casually remarked, "This is Cassius's unique talent. I’ve always said that you need to be a genius among geniuses to learn the Red Falcon Fist from me..."
Saint Feinan looked away, ignoring Feng Liusi. This kind of recovery ability couldn’t be explained by talent alone. But everyone has their secrets, and there was no need to dig deeper.
A minute later, when the Covert Martial Arts community from Wenxia County, along with members of the Eastern Nine Sects, emerged from the combat arena, they found only destruction—buildings in ruins and the road a chaotic mess. Cassius and the others had already vanished.
Sect Master Justin of the Evil Eye Fist Sect and Great Elder Buck both wore grim looks. It wasn't just because of their injuries; it was a result of everything that had just happened. They had been challenged and defeated on their own turf; their combat arena had been trashed; and they had lost face in front of everyone. Not to mention, the Eastern Alliance’s plans might now be in jeopardy. The day had been a complete disaster.
Justin coughed as he stood at the entrance. It felt like he had forgotten something important, but his injuries left him no time to think about anything else. Recovering his strength was the top priority.
As for the two Eastern Three Stars who represented Soul-Breaking Sword Path and Star Ring Fist, they had just regained consciousness and were filled with an indescribable sense of frustration. They had fought their way through countless challenges, only to hit an immovable obstacle. And it had all been for nothing, since their opponent had only come to challenge Evil Eye Fist. They had foolishly gotten involved for no reason...
They would need to be more discerning in the world of Covert Martial Arts. They couldn't underestimate the masters of the world just because of the powerhouses backing their sects.
Lastly, the group from Wenxia County’s Covert Martial Arts community left together, feeling quite satisfied with the outcome. They had witnessed Evil Eye Fist fail endlessly, the two arrogant Eastern Three Stars get taken down in a single blow, and the terrifying sight of a combat artist losing control. They had enough to talk about for a long time.
They speculated about the identity of the mysterious combat artist among themselves. Which sect had he come from?
Only Luen, Sect Master of Red Falcon Fist, walked along silently, deep in thought. He didn’t say a word as he left the headquarters of the Evil Eye Fist in his car.
The road leading back to the city was quiet. But all of a sudden, he slammed on the brakes. Just a few meters ahead, a figure with its back turned to the car stood resolutely in the middle of the road. Luen stepped out, about to say something, but the longer he looked at the man, the more the man seemed to become a figure from his memories.
Luen's palms begin to sweat. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
At that moment, the middle-aged man turned around with a faint smile on his face.
"What's wrong, little Luen? Can’t even recognize your old man?"
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