Chapter 77

Azai was so busy today that he only hurried home in the afternoon, finishing this chapter in a rush. The next update will be in the evening.

The first small climax of the story has been slow to arrive, but the plot will gradually pick up pace. I hope the friends who have been supporting Azai can bear with it for a moment. The truly stirring plot has yet to unfold. However... it's coming soon!

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Before Chang Jingwang could finish speaking, there was a clatter of swords being drawn from their scabbards. Over a dozen young Taoist priests simultaneously drew their swords, creating a rather intimidating atmosphere, which frightened Chang Jingwang quite a bit.

Chang Jingwang muttered to himself: I didn't say anything about a group fight, so why are they planning a gang attack?

Chang Jingwang's face turned pale, and his heart raced. The disciples of Qingyun Temple, however, began to argue among themselves.

"Mr. Chang, let me see your skills..."

"I am the eldest disciple, I'll go first..."

"Killing a chicken doesn't require a butcher's knife. Eldest brother, wait a moment, let me go first..."

"I'll go first..."

"I'll go..."

...

The noise was chaotic, and the crowd watching around them burst into laughter, cheering loudly.

The faces of several Changkong Sword Sect disciples grew increasingly dark. These stinking Taoists were too arrogant. When had the Changkong Sword Sect ever been so disrespected?

Worse still, Chang Jingwang was still hesitating...

"Jingwang—" a furious shout.

Chang Jingwang shuddered, cold sweat trickling down his back. He steeled himself and shouted loudly: "Rogues of Qingyun Temple, come and fight—"

"Qingyun Temple's Yunlu is here to challenge—"

A young Taoist priest, about fourteen or fifteen years old, took advantage of the argument among his peers, drew his sword, and leaped into the arena, seizing the initiative.

"Wow—Yunlu is too cunning..."

Ignoring the chatter from his peers, Yunlu briefly bowed, then made a sword gesture with his left hand and pointed his sword with his right. A move called "Pointing to the Southern Sky" aimed directly at Chang Jingwang's throat. The movement was fluid, clearly the result of much practice. Yunlu knew his opponent's martial arts skills were far superior to his own, so he seized the initiative and attacked with all his might, showing no mercy.

Chang Jingwang was greatly startled, clearly unprepared for the young Taoist's proficient swordsmanship and unable to react in time.

Although Chang Jingwang was a disciple of the Changkong Sword Sect, he had only been a member for less than two months and had only learned a basic set of sword techniques. His main skills were still the family's traditional boxing and kicking techniques. Using sword techniques to defeat the enemy was like using his weakness to attack the opponent's strength. Faced with Yunlu's attack, Chang Jingwang's [Changkong Sword Technique] was half-learned and half-forgotten, struggling to keep up. Despite his higher cultivation, he was temporarily suppressed and unable to fight back.

Rip—

The sound of fabric tearing echoed.

Yunlu's sword moved in a series of quick strikes, slashing at Chang Jingwang's right arm five times in succession. The final strike finally tore through Chang Jingwang's sleeve.

The disciples of Qingyun Temple cheered loudly, while the Changkong Sword Sect side looked grim, cursing Chang Jingwang's incompetence.

Chang Jingwang was overwhelmed with shame and fear. The disciples of Qingyun Temple had excellent sword skills. Despite his efforts to defend himself, he could not escape the final slash. He regretted his earlier boast and resented Chang Jingfan for forcing him to fight an outsider when he had just joined and was still learning.

Chang Jingwang's character was despicable and shameless. Just moments ago, he had been arrogant and domineering, but now, after a humiliating defeat, he blamed fate and even cursed his peers, feeling that everyone had wronged him.

Chang Jingfan had long been impatient with Chang Jingwang's poor performance and finally shouted: "Chang Jingwang, did you learn your 'Strong Essence Realm' cultivation for dogs? Why don't you show your true skills?"

Chang Jingfan's shout made Chang Jingwang's eyes light up. Yes, my cultivation is higher, and my internal strength is stronger. Why should I compete in sword techniques? I can easily overpower him with my internal strength—

He realized his lack of combat experience and cursed himself. He channeled his internal strength into his sword, aimed at the direction of the incoming sword, and struck with all his might.

Clang! Yunlu felt a powerful force hit him, and his sword flew out of his hand. His right wrist was split open, and blood flowed profusely.

Chang Jingwang, not letting up, and still angry about the earlier humiliation, shifted his sword and aimed directly at Yunlu's left eye.

Yunlu, terrified, tried to dodge but was kicked in the abdomen by Chang Jingwang. The internal strength surged into his body, and he was sent flying backward, landing on the ground. He spat out a mouthful of blood and lost the strength to stand up.

Ha ha ha—

Chang Jingwang laughed maniacally, stepped over, and stomped on Yunlu's head, grinding it into the ground. He laughed wildly: "F*cking Taoist, I gave you a taste, and you still dared to push your luck? Now you know the power of the Changkong Sword Sect, right?"

Chang Jingwang's despicable and small-minded nature was fully revealed.

The crowd around him was shocked by his behavior.

"Scoundrel—"

"Stop—"

The disciples of Qingyun Temple could not stand to see their peer humiliated. In a flash, a figure moved, and a sharp wind cut through the air as a sword slashed at Chang Jingwang's leg, which was pressing on Yunlu's head.

Chang Jingwang hastily pulled back his leg and saw that it was Yun Chong, who had previously challenged him.

Yun Chong, seeing his peers carry Yunlu away, unconscious and covered in blood, was filled with anger. He shouted: "A martial arts competition is to teach skills, not to humiliate. Why are you bullying my peers?"

"Tsk—" Chang Jingwang, emboldened by his victory, became extremely arrogant. He sneered: "Idiot, do you think this is a game among your peers? Let me tell you, you lost, and I'll burn down this rotten temple, sending all of you stinking Taoists to heaven, ha ha ha..."

Most of the people around were townsfolk and martial artists from Qingyang Town, who had a natural affinity for Qingyun Temple. Hearing his arrogant words and seeing his contemptuous attitude, they became furious, and the crowd began to boo.

Yun Chong raised his arm to signal for quiet and said loudly: "All my fellow disciples, please watch from the side. I will take on this challenge."

Yun Chong, as the eldest disciple of the third generation, had been strictly trained by Qingzheng Daoist since childhood. In terms of martial arts, whether in cultivation or sword skills, he was always the best among the disciples. His appearance boosted the morale of the disciples, and cheers echoed around.

Yun Chong held his sword in one hand and bowed, "Sir, please—"

His demeanor was calm and composed, befitting the eldest disciple of the third generation of Qingyun Temple.

Chang Jingwang laughed sinisterly, thrust his sword into the ground, and said: "To deal with you stinking Taoists, I don't need a sword. I can win with just my bare hands, come on—"

Chang Jingwang, not wanting to be overconfident, put aside his sword and prepared to use the [Cloud Splitting Palm] passed down in his family. However, he was still used to being verbally abusive, acting as if he looked down on his opponent despite his superior strength.

Yun Chong's expression was serious. From the stance his opponent took, it was clear that his boxing and kicking skills were far superior to his sword techniques. His opponent was clearly at the 'Strong Essence Realm,' while he was only at the sixth level of the 'Tempered Body Realm.' Competing in internal strength would be disadvantageous, so he had to rely on his exquisite sword techniques.

Once he made up his mind, his actions were decisive.

The sword stabbed directly at Chang Jingwang's forehead, then the tip trembled, and the sword shadow split into three, striking Chang Jingwang's chest and abdomen three times. This was the highly versatile move "Three Waves of Cloud" from the [Qingyun Thirty-Six Sword Techniques].

Chang Jingwang turned his palm into a fist and, ignoring the sharp blade, struck directly at the incoming sword. Yun Chong felt uneasy. If the sword hit, the opponent's wrist would be severed, but who would be so foolish?

In his doubt, Yun Chong decided to change his move, turning the slash into a point, aiming directly at the opponent's wrist.

Clang! The sound of the sword tip hitting metal echoed, causing a chorus of gasps from the crowd.

Sure enough, the guy was wearing an iron wrist guard, which explained why he wasn't afraid of the sword. Yun Chong cursed the opponent's cunning, calmed his mind, and began to perform the [Qingyun Thirty-Six Sword Techniques] gracefully.

Chang Jingwang was also surprised. He hadn't expected Yun Chong to change his move so quickly. If his iron wrist guard had hit the sword, he could have used his superior internal strength to break the sword technique and even knock the sword out of Yun Chong's hand, winning the fight quickly.

Once the two started fighting, they both realized that neither could easily win, so they became extremely cautious, and the battle entered a stalemate.

The exchange of moves was intense and colorful, drawing cheers and applause from the crowd. The spectators, enjoying the spectacle, cheered loudly, their voices rising and falling, never ceasing.

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