Chapter 59

As Fang La unleashed the profound power of the Nine Palaces Shift, Chen Ang grasped three-tenths of its essence. This martial art held no obscure or secret mysteries before him. At this moment, Fang La was like a living manual, demonstrating all the subtleties of the Nine Palaces Shift.

With his mind attuned to nature and the unity of heaven and man, Chen Ang's finger was like a wild goose treading on snow, leaving a trace without a mark. The claw print remained, but the wild goose was nowhere to be seen. The finger's shadow was clearly visible, yet his spirit was lost in the realm of non-duality, merging with the universe. Fang La's surging force struck the air, and even when their palms met, he felt only emptiness, as if the finger were an illusion.

Though it seemed to possess boundless power, it struck a void that could not be filled. The void overcame the solid, and if the Nine Palaces Shift was the pinnacle of transformation, then Chen Ang's move was a marvel of responding with nothingness, turning the void into reality. One had an inexhaustible force that grew stronger with each battle, while the other had a force that leaked away, leaving nothing to resist.

It was a perfect match, a meeting of equals.

In the torrential rain, a strange scene unfolded. Chen Ang's fingertips seemed to be a void, and the raindrops around him formed a funnel-like space, gathering into two streams of water that flowed down his body. The rain, which should have fallen downward, moved along his body.

Deng Yuanjue and the others were visibly shaken.

With their keen eyes, they could see that Chen Ang's entire body was devoid of any trace of qi, in a state where even the rain could not touch his power. The Nine Palaces Shift could not borrow any strength from him. His mind and martial arts were truly unparalleled.

The raindrops that struck Fang La's body were like hitting a stretchy gel, changing direction and force, bouncing and colliding on his skin, splashing in all directions. The water left no trace on his skin, and countless tiny forces, transformed and counteracted, converged into a single force, striking Chen Ang.

Soft overcomes hard, the void overcomes the solid, the weak overcomes the strong. Chen Ang used the void to寄托 his spirit, responding to the solid with the void. Though he could not take the initiative, he dealt with the Nine Palaces Shift with ease. The lack of a point of leverage made it difficult for Fang La, whose fierce palm techniques and mysterious moves seemed to strike the air.

Each move, each strike, was powerful, yet all fell into the void.

The Mandarins of the Ming Sect present were all grave-faced. They had already overestimated Chen Ang's martial arts, but they never imagined that Chen Ang was ten times more formidable than their overestimation. In just two weeks, Fang La had undergone a complete transformation, his martial arts surpassing their imagination. Yet, Chen Ang still seemed to have the upper hand.

If they had not seen it with their own eyes, no one would have believed such a joke. But the ones who had been clamoring for severe punishment and revenge now seemed like a joke. Fang Jie's face was pale, filled with disbelief.

He finally understood that if not for Fang La, ten more people like him would be nothing but a minor inconvenience for Chen Ang. The talk of revenge and blood feuds now seemed like a joke. With Chen Ang's overwhelming power, the Ming Sect was in grave danger, lacking even the strength to protect itself, let alone pursue retribution.

The Ming Sect's resistance against the imperial court relied on the superior martial arts and elite strength of its followers, far surpassing the imperial army. This is why local officials dared not act rashly, allowing the Ming Sect to control a vast territory. But it was only when Chen Ang arrived that they felt the overwhelming pressure, and the balance of power had already shifted.

Not to mention the Mandarins and envoys, even the lives of the vast majority of the sect's followers were at Chen Ang's mercy. One misstep, and the pressure would crush them like an egg under a mountain, leaving hundreds of thousands of believers and followers homeless and dead. Even if they had some counterattack, it would be difficult to change the overall situation.

This was a matter of life and death for the Ming Sect. Fang Jie's previous actions were like a young jackal challenging a lion. He did not understand that the current situation was not about what the Ming Sect could do to Chen Ang, but what Chen Ang would do to the Ming Sect. Fang La's only hope was to defeat Chen Ang and maintain the Ming Sect's advantage over the imperial court.

Fang Jie, however, was immersed in the Ming Sect's reputation and the glory of rebellion. He did not understand that the weak always have to give an account to the strong, and the strong do not need to explain themselves to the weak. This led to his reckless challenge, which earned him a rebuke from Fang La.

The fate of the Ming Sect and the lives of countless followers rested on Fang La's shoulders. The immense pressure was something Fang Jie and others could not comprehend. Fang La's mind was already growing anxious. Even the miraculous Nine Palaces Shift could not budge Chen Ang. Despite his best efforts, he could only match Chen Ang, and the Ming Sect could not afford this outcome.

He reached back and took out two translucent, yet not entirely transparent, narrow tokens from his waist. Raindrops struck the tokens, and faint flames seemed to dance, changing colors. His body twisted, and he suddenly fell in a bizarre posture. The tokens transformed into a pair of incredibly agile snakes, hissing.

The straightforward palm techniques suddenly turned into a sinister and bizarre body movement. The tokens in Fang La's hands became a twisted shadow, layering around Chen Ang with exquisite force.

The cold, sharp shadows were unpredictable, like ghostly winds, bizarre and unfathomable. This strange martial art from Persia was vastly different from the principles of Central China. The divine skills on the Holy Fire Tokens were ruthless and bizarre from the start.

Although this martial art was passed down to the Persian headquarters, it was more symbolic than practical due to its incompatibility with the personalities of the Ming Sect's successive leaders. But today, Fang La, forced into a corner by Chen Ang, had to use this martial art, despite its incompatibility with his nature.

Fang La never imagined that Chen Ang, who was well-versed in all the world's scripts, including ancient scripts and Nien runes, would be proficient in Persian as well. The martial arts on the Holy Fire Tokens were not concealed, and as soon as he took them out, Chen Ang saw through them. With the manual as a reference, it took only a few moves for Chen Ang to understand the essence of the Holy Fire Tokens.

This martial art, at its peak, relied on its bizarre nature for its power. A Central Chinese expert unfamiliar with Persian martial arts might be at a disadvantage, but facing Chen Ang, who was equally proficient, it was a different story.

In martial arts, the orthodox overcomes the bizarre. Once Fang La's techniques were understood, the situation fell under Chen Ang's control. His fleshly palms spread like a thousand lotus flowers, transforming into a sea of palm prints, gathering the pervasive qi in the field.

The four Mandarins of the Ming Sect watching from the side were pale with shock. What appeared in Chen Ang's hands was the Nine Palaces Shift, the sect's most revered skill. In Chen Ang's hands, this martial art had undergone a significant transformation, becoming a different yet identical skill.

Fang La steadied his mind, focusing all his attention on the battle, not thinking about anything else. His body moved swiftly, and the Holy Fire Tokens in his hands transformed endlessly. However, a force that followed him like a shadow was constantly shifting and neutralizing his power. The two of them were like two masters of balance, disrupting each other's center of gravity.

Suddenly, the qi Chen Ang summoned gathered into a solid force, striking the void. Fang La was puzzled, carefully guarding his vital points, while two forces intertwined and wrapped around Chen Ang's sides.

In the void, a strong suction force suddenly erupted, deviating Fang La's power. Chen Ang casually struck, creating various strange force fields in the void, affecting Fang La's senses.

It was like walking into a trap, colliding with the force field Chen Ang had set up. Fang La felt that Chen Ang had already seen through his martial arts and internal strength, specifically targeting his moves. In the blink of an eye, he was caught in Chen Ang's rhythm, his movements becoming sluggish, trapped by the void force.

Chen Ang lightly pointed at Fang La, and a complex force linkage locked his movements. Several bizarre internal forces sealed his major acupoints.

Fang La could no longer maintain his stance. Even with the Nine Palaces Shift's ability to reverse acupoints and neutralize the bizarre internal force, his face turned pale, and he staggered back a few steps, leaning helplessly against the wall.

"Master!" The Mandarins were anxious, quickly rushing to Fang La's side, surrounding him on three sides, carefully guarding. They checked his injuries, and Deng Yuanjue probed with his internal strength, but found Fang La's body in chaos, his internal strength out of control, violently conflicting. A slight misstep could trigger a counterattack from Fang La's internal strength.

Deng Yuanjue felt a mysterious internal force surge toward him. He dared not resist, fearing it would harm Fang La and worsen his condition. He let the force pass through, only using his internal strength to dissipate it.

A wave of sweetness rose in his throat, and Deng Yuanjue spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Great Mandarin!" "Deng Monk!" The remaining Ming Sect leaders supported Deng Yuanjue's swaying body, calling out anxiously.

"Nothing serious!" After spitting out the blood, the oppressive feeling in Deng Yuanjue's chest eased somewhat.

"Bad news!" A Ming Sect disciple rushed over, reporting hastily, "The imperial troops below are attacking. They know the terrain and mechanisms on the mountain well, and there are people secretly assisting them. They have already breached the headquarters."

"What?" The Ming Sect members were shocked. In the distance, flickering lights and the sounds of battle could be heard.

Dozens of rain-cape-clad figures appeared around them, surrounding Chen Ang. The leaders and flag bearers of the Five Elements Flags were bound to one side. In the distance, imperial troops with strong bows and crossbows advanced in an orderly manner, aided by the rain-cape-clad figures, forcing the Ming Sect followers to retreat.

The Mandarins were blocked by Chen Ang in front and besieged by the imperial troops behind, trapped in a desperate situation.

"It seems I have the upper hand this time," Chen Ang said with a smile, picking up an oiled paper umbrella and holding it over his head. Drops of water fell, landing in puddles with a crisp sound.

Fang La struggled to stand, his face calm. He said to Chen Ang, "You are superior in skill, and the outcome of the battle is clear. Today, the Ming Sect faces a great calamity, but we have always seen the ups and downs of the times and the difficulties as commonplace. Many of our previous leaders have died in battle, and the Ming Sect has faced dire situations before."

"Our lives are but a matter of course. Only the holy fire must never be extinguished, and the lineage of the sect must never be lost."

PS: Yesterday, I was stuck in a writing rut, feeling like I wanted to live and die. Today, I finally caught up. The next part will be updated in the evening, along with the regular two updates.