Chapter 44

The two monks closed the distance in the blink of an eye.

Jin Yuanxiang was the first to attack. He aimed straight for Jin Jian's throat with his right hand, curled like an eagle's talon. Despite his fingers not being blades, they sliced through the air with a hiss.

However, his fingers did not tear Jin Jian's throat. Jin Jian's left arm swept them away, pushing them outward. At the same time, Jin Jian plunged into Jin Yuanxiang's embrace and struck his chest with a blood-crusted right fist.

But that punch did not hit Jin Yuanxiang either. His wrist was caught and blocked by Jin Yuanxiang's left hand. Immediately after, Jin Yuanxiang pulled the captured wrist and raised his knee. The knee struck Jin Jian's chest, producing a dull thud.

Jin Jian let out a groan and flew backward. Jin Yuanxiang followed closely, aiming for Jin Jian's throat with his curled hands. Despite his breath being cut off, Jin Jian reached out and caught both wrists, pushing them outward while sharply bending his waist backward. Jin Yuanxiang's Dragon Claw Hand missed its mark and grabbed at empty air.

As he bent backward in mid-air, Jin Jian simultaneously drew up his legs and extended them. His feet, like a battering ram, struck Jin Yuanxiang's chest.

"Ugh!"

Jin Yuanxiang let out a grunt and fell backward, and Jin Jian, having nothing to stand on, also fell to the ground. But he quickly regained his composure, slapped his palms on the ground, and used the rebound to stand up straight. He immediately resumed his initial stance.

On the other side, Jin Yuanxiang, who had been knocked back, also rose, scraping the ground and raising dust. The scab on his chest from the previous blow had burst, and black blood flowed down. However, he glared at Jin Jian with gleaming eyes, as if he felt no pain from the wound.

"What should I have done? Should I have just closed my eyes and done nothing? When Xiaoxiao died unjustly?"

"…We don't judge sins. That's not the way of the monks. You should have found a more appropriate way to punish them, not just kill them recklessly!"

Jin Yuanxiang shouted as he leaped forward, pushing off the ground.

"To me, this was the appropriate punishment!"

With that shout, Jin Jian and Jin Yuanxiang engaged again. Their every movement was filled with strength, and with each step, the ground was deeply gouged, sending up fragments of salt and sand.

Jin Jian clenched his fists tightly and, in a firm stance, delivered a simple but heavy blow. In contrast, Jin Yuanxiang, with his fingers curled and then spread, and finally clenched into a fist, confused Jin Jian's vision with his varied movements.

He then lightly leaped and kicked Jin Jian with both feet in quick succession. Jin Jian crossed his arms to block the kicks and leaped backward. As soon as he landed, he pulled his fists to his waist and assumed a low horse stance. Jin Yuanxiang followed, shouting.

"What are you doing, Senior Brother Jin Jian! Is this all you can do with the Arhat Fist Technique you trained so hard?"

As if in response, Jin Jian raised the fists he had pulled to his waist to his chest and clasped them together. Then, he twisted his clasped hands, clenched his fists again, and took a large step forward, extending both fists simultaneously. The fists, like the open mouth of a fierce beast, lunged at Jin Yuanxiang's chest.

The speed and solid momentum of those fists made Jin Yuanxiang, who was charging forward, momentarily freeze in a dazed expression. Seeing that expression, Jin Jian's fists hesitated involuntarily.

Jin Yuanxiang did not miss that hesitation. He extended his hands to his chest, as if mimicking Jin Jian's stance, but his hands were spread open, not clenched into fists.

The moment Jin Yuanxiang's palms met Jin Jian's fists, they enveloped them and curled his fingers. Then, he traced up Jin Jian's arms.

Jin Jian's arms, swept by the Dragon Claw, were torn like rags, spilling blood.

"Ugh!"

Jin Jian, with deep gashes on both arms and blood splattering, reflexively stepped back. Jin Yuanxiang, seizing the opportunity, followed with blood-soaked hands raised, aiming at Jin Jian. In Jin Jian's eyes, Jin Yuanxiang's hands descending from above, his distorted face like a demon, and the blue sky were reflected.

At that moment, something whizzed through the air toward Jin Yuanxiang.

Jin Yuanxiang quickly pushed off the ground and somersaulted backward. When he landed with a thud, he saw a simple sword embedded in the ground, its blade quivering. He relaxed his stance, stood up straight, and looked at the person who had thrown the sword.

"If you had hit me, what would you have done, Zhang Jian? Throwing things like that is dangerous."

Zhang Jian found something amusing in Jin Yuanxiang's attitude, so different from the past. Had the suppressed emotions burst out as he spun around? Of course, no matter what, showing a relaxed attitude while bleeding profusely made him look like a madman.

"Sorry, Warrior Zhang..."

"You hesitated at the end."

"…I have nothing to say."

Jin Jian, with his tattered arms, slumped down, looking up at Zhang Jian with a defeated expression. He seemed shocked by Jin Yuanxiang's attempt to kill him without hesitation. Zhang Jian slowly walked over and grabbed the sword embedded in the salt ground.

At that moment, Jin Jian, with his injured hand, grabbed the blade. When Zhang Jian turned to look, Jin Jian looked up with a sad expression and said,

"Please... show some mercy... Junior Brother is just entangled in烦恼... (troubles)..."

But Zhang Jian, hearing Jin Jian's heartfelt plea, only stared down at him blankly without any response. Thinking he had been refused, Jin Jian trembled and let go of the blade, bowing his head deeply.

When he let go, Zhang Jian pulled the sword out without hesitation and shook it. The blood on the blade was cleanly wiped off. He smoothly sheathed the sword and then pulled it out again, embedding it in the ground.

"Hmm, a fist technique match. It's been a long time. I only practiced it casually with my teacher in the Central Plains."

Hearing this, not only Jin Jian but also Jin Yuanxiang and the Jianlong Gate warriors standing at a distance were stunned.

After a moment, Jin Yuanxiang laughed.

"From the day you started practicing inner energy cultivation, you've been quite confident in your martial arts. But isn't it arrogant to challenge me to a bare-handed match?"

"If I use my sword, you'll die."

The straightforward words, devoid of any formalities, made Jin Yuanxiang momentarily stunned again, then he laughed. However, his eyes glinted dangerously.

"…It seems Shaolin's fist techniques are amusing to you. Then, I'll show you the orthodox Shaolin martial arts passed down from Bodhidharma."

Jin Yuanxiang, saying this, spread his arms wide and assumed a large stance, his legs also spread wide, and his knees lowered to maintain his center of gravity. The tips of his spread fingers, stained with Jin Jian's blood, once again formed an eagle's talon. Despite the sinister aura in his eyes, his stance was majestic and firm.

Facing him, Zhang Jian also slowly assumed a stance. He took a step forward with his right foot, shifted his center of gravity to his back foot, bent his knees to lower his stance, and placed his right hand at eye level and his left hand as if pressing down on the air.

Seeing this, Jin Yuanxiang's eyes twitched.

"You seem to have learned the fist techniques properly. So, have you learned the martial arts of the Imperial Army?"

"Why do you always talk about the Imperial Army? I created this myself."

"…You created a martial art on your own?"

Zhang Jian chuckled.

"More like a recreation."

Hearing this, Jin Yuanxiang laughed in disbelief for a moment, then leaped and charged at Zhang Jian. His Dragon Claw, already drenched in blood, once again tore through the air, aiming for Zhang Jian's neck. Compared to his large and clear stance, Zhang Jian's seemed a bit awkward, and like Jin Jian, he did not charge forward, which could be interpreted as giving up resistance.

In fact, Zhang Jian was momentarily lost in thought as he watched Jin Yuanxiang charge.

Most martial arts in this world are linear. Based on the efficiency-focused principles of the Imperial Army, whether using a sword, spear, or even a whip or other exotic weapons, the emphasis is on the straight line extending from oneself to the opponent. In the New Continent, this style is even more pronounced, with high-level practitioners engaging in one-on-one battles that resolve in a single, lightning-fast exchange of blades.

Moreover, this style is so widespread that even Shaolin's fist techniques, while varying in degree, ultimately aim to quickly and decisively subdue the opponent.

The same applies to the use of internal energy. The emphasis is on the straight line from one energy point to another and then outward. This, Zhang Jian thought, was efficient enough for killing. There was no need to seek other methods.

However, in his memory, martial arts were not so simple.

Just in sword techniques, there were heavy swords and illusory swords. Footwork was not just about taking a faster step but also about mesmerizing the opponent, finding gaps, and even drawing formations with each step. There were techniques like the Sun Palm and Ice Corpse Palm that performed almost magical feats, and methods of twisting internal energy into vortices or infusing martial movements with emotions and intentions to achieve something beyond mere physical actions.

Of course, most of these martial arts were just lines of imagination when they were written, but to Zhang Jian, who had entered the world of real martial arts, they were more than just imagination.

So, Zhang Jian began to recreate these imaginations, these stories that were just lines of text.

At first, he wondered what the point was. No one understood his strange actions, and he was full of doubts about whether these imaginations were even possible or if he could achieve them.

But eventually, he created his own lightness technique and went on to master powerful techniques like the Full Body Technique, Infiltration Technique, and Illusory Sword, as well as minor skills like the Thousand Mile Hearing Technique. However, there were still many martial arts in his mind that he had not fully realized. There were far more to achieve than what he had already accomplished.

And Zhang Jian, without being asked or promised any great reward, wanted to recreate these martial arts with his own hands. It was a monument built on his own body for the world of martial arts, for those who had imagined and wished for this world, and a memorial to his previous life, which remained only in his memory.

While these thoughts, short yet long, flashed through Zhang Jian's mind, Jin Yuanxiang had already closed the distance. His fingers, curled like they could tear through rock, extended straight toward Zhang Jian's neck.

And at that moment, Zhang Jian, who had not moved from his initial stance, exhaled a short breath and shifted his center of gravity to his back foot, then moved it forward.

With just this shift, it seemed as if the distance between Jin Yuanxiang and Zhang Jian had closed by half a zhang. Jin Yuanxiang, feeling a bit disoriented, adjusted his aim. If he extended his hand now, it would miss Zhang Jian's neck slightly.

At that moment, Zhang Jian's hand suddenly reached out and met Jin Yuanxiang's extended left elbow. Jin Yuanxiang's expression changed as he felt his arm being attacked and increased his internal energy. He intended to overpower it with force.

However, Zhang Jian's hand did not grab or strike his elbow. Instead, it gently traced a circular motion, pushing it away.

Jin Yuanxiang felt his internal energy, which had been extending from his arm, waver and move erratically. Before he could react, Zhang Jian, using his right foot as a pivot, made a large circular motion to the left. With this single rotation, Zhang Jian and Jin Yuanxiang were pressed so close that they could feel each other's breath.

"Ah?"

Jin Yuanxiang let out a surprised groan as the internal energy in his left arm went wild and Zhang Jian pressed close to his left side. At the same time, Zhang Jian, who was pressed close, lightly pushed him with his body.

"Ah?"

Jin Yuanxiang, unable to do anything, was pushed away and lost his balance, rolling on the ground. Although he quickly got up, his expression was strange. The solid foundation and firm internal energy he had gained from practicing Shaolin martial arts had been disrupted by Zhang Jian's light movements. More shockingly, he had rolled on the ground without any impact, moved by his own erratic internal energy.

"…What… is this?"

Zhang Jian, now facing the opposite direction from his initial stance, calmly replied.

"Zhang Family's Tai Chi Fist."