Chapter 95

"Kuh... Y-You... How...?"

Nangong Yezhun, who had been thrown back, spat out a mouthful of blood and barely managed to prop himself up. He blinked his eyes, trying to recall if he had misjudged the distance between Zhang Jian's hand and himself. But it was clear that Zhang Jian's hand had been too far to reach his body. The distance, though not vast, should have been impossible to bridge.

However, when he looked down at his chest, which was trembling, he saw the scorched collar of his robe and a distinct handprint seared into his skin. Each breath he took felt like his trachea and lungs were being burned.

Zhang Jian, who had kept his palm extended, slowly straightened up and dusted off his left hand. He sheathed the broken sword and approached the fallen Nangong Yezhun. Nangong Yezhun, instinctively trying to distance himself from Zhang Jian, writhed backward with a pained expression.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move faster than Zhang Jian's steady steps.

"Is... Is this... the Imperial Army's martial technique...?"

Nangong Yezhun looked up at the approaching Zhang Jian and asked. But Zhang Jian chuckled and shook his head.

"This isn't an Imperial Army martial technique. It's the Dragon Subduing Palm... No, since there are no other forms yet, it's just the Dragon Subduing Palm."

"...What?"

Nangong Yezhun's face turned blank, but Zhang Jian, without looking at him, examined his right shoulder. The wound from Wang's sword cut stung. He moved his shoulder tentatively; it wasn't a serious injury, but it could have been fatal.

As he smoothed out the torn collar to cover the wound, Nangong Yezhun, who had been staring at him blankly, coughed and asked, "What do you mean? You're not from the Imperial Army? Then, are you from the Martial Arts Alliance?"

"This is something I often say, but in this vast world, are there no experts outside those places? Broaden your horizons. It's been over a hundred years since the ocean was crossed and the world expanded. Why are you so narrow-minded?"

Feeling good about the successful use of the Threefold True Fire, Zhang Jian lightly scolded him. Nangong Yezhun, hearing this, made a blank expression again before asking, "Not from the Imperial Army or the Martial Arts Alliance... Then who are you?"

"Who am I? Did you think you could kill dozens of innocent people for a single medicinal pill and get away with it?"

"Are you... moving to avenge those red monkeys? You, an expert like you?"

"The world is full of surprises, isn't it?"

As Zhang Jian said this, he approached Nangong Yezhun to finish him off. In his right hand, a black spear tip had appeared. But then, Zhang Jian noticed a stone coffin next to Nangong Yezhun.

It was the stone coffin that Nangong Yezhun and the Wang brothers had been surrounding before Zhang Jian broke in. Zhang Jian, who hadn't been particularly interested in what they were doing in Gan Mountain, hadn't asked about it. But seeing the stone coffin and the man lying inside, he couldn't help but pause.

The man lying in the stone coffin had a handsome face but was missing his left hand. He also lacked a toe on each foot. Zhang Jian knew of someone with similar physical deficiencies: the son of the Gan Mountain branch chief, whom the branch chief had been desperately searching for.

Stopping in his tracks, Zhang Jian turned to Nangong Yezhun and asked, "Is this... the son of the branch chief?"

"Wh-Why are you asking me? Do you think I'll tell you willingly?"

Nangong Yezhun, trembling and bleeding from the corner of his mouth, tried to appear calm. But Zhang Jian ignored him and turned to approach the stone coffin.

Inside the stone coffin, in addition to the naked man presumed to be the branch chief's son, there was a shallow layer of clear liquid. Zhang Jian placed his hand on the man's neck to check if he was alive.

At that moment, the man's eyes suddenly snapped open. Zhang Jian, taken aback by the sudden movement, paused. The man and Zhang Jian stared at each other for a moment.

"Attack! Attack him!"

At that moment, Nangong Yezhun shouted in a voice that sounded like he was spitting out blood. Simultaneously, the man's right hand shot up, aiming for Zhang Jian's chest.

Zhang Jian, reflexively trying to cut off the hand with the spear tip in his right hand, hesitated, realizing that the man would be left with no hands. Instead, he quickly tried to grab the hand with his left hand.

"What's going on here?"

Zhang Jian's left hand was fast, but the man's fingers, stiff like a spear, managed to pierce Zhang Jian's chest. Though he was caught mid-strike, the fingers still managed to tear the skin and draw blood.

Zhang Jian, laughing in disbelief, pushed the man's hand away. The man's arm trembled as he tried to shake Zhang Jian off, but the strength difference was too great. His hand was pushed back as if caught in a vise.

Looking at the man's expressionless face, Zhang Jian said, "What was it... Jialunming? Jialuoming? Anyway, snap out of it. Your father is in a lot of trouble because of you."

But the man showed no change in expression. Instead, he leaped up and kicked Zhang Jian while still being held. Zhang Jian, letting go of the hand, raised his arm to block the kick, which carried enough force to crush a human skull.

The man, who had kicked off from the stone coffin, continued to attack Zhang Jian. It seemed he couldn't control the internal energy in his body, as the stone coffin he had been lying in shattered.

The man attacked Zhang Jian with overwhelming force, kicking, pushing, and striking. It was a good fist technique, not subtle but solid in its basics. Combined with his overwhelming strength, it became a formidable attack.

Of course, Zhang Jian, with his right hand half-sealed and using only his left hand, easily blocked all the attacks. What troubled him more than the man's strength was the flailing of his private parts.

"What's this? Aren't you Jia Luoming? Snap out of it."

Zhang Jian, pushing the man away lightly, said again, but the man continued to attack him without any response, trying to kill him. Nangong Yezhun, watching this, chuckled and said, "It's no use. Jia Luoming is now just a loyal servant to us. Even if it was an incomplete technique, there's no way to stop it except by killing him. You said you came to avenge the natives who died on the plains? It's admirable that you came all this way for those savages, but can you harm an innocent person for their sake?"

Zhang Jian, blocking the man's punch, frowned at Nangong Yezhun's words. It seemed that the kidnapping of the Gan Mountain branch chief's son was not just to control him. The way he was leaping around didn't match someone who had been kidnapped and suffered for weeks.

At that moment, the man's downward strike grazed Zhang Jian and slammed into the floor. The neatly laid floor tiles shattered under the impact.

Zhang Jian's eyes twitched again. The man's strength was growing.

"Sometimes, people are born with certain talents. Most of them never realize their talents until they die. Without special methods, they often fade away without being used. But with our secret techniques or great methods, it's different. Their talents can be brought to full bloom..."

Nangong Yezhun, leaning against the stone coffin, continued to mutter as he got up.

"Xue Yin's Blood Suction was one of those, and Jia Luoming here is another. With three major meridians larger and much stronger yang energy than others, he's a perfect candidate for our secret techniques. If you don't deal with him quickly, his power will only grow. How long do you think you can keep this up? Isn't your arm already hurting?"

Zhang Jian, listening to Nangong Yezhun's muttering while dealing with Jia Luoming, frowned and organized his thoughts. It seemed the Huilong Sect had never intended to unify the back alleys of Gan Mountain. Their real target was Jia Luoming, who was now obeying Nangong Yezhun's commands, indicating that they had suppressed his mind with some great method. The chaos in Gan Mountain, the branch chief's inability to control the situation, and the joy of finding his son alive, who was now a pawn of the Demon Palace, all pointed to a dangerous situation. The Demon Palace now had a bomb they could detonate at any time.

While he couldn't know their exact plan, it was clear they wanted to create chaos in Gan Mountain. Perhaps they were trying to paralyze the new continent's cities before a full-scale war with the Imperial Army. Was Gan Mountain the starting point?

After some thought, Zhang Jian exhaled and concluded. Regardless of the outcome, the Demon Palace's machinations were now known to both the Martial Arts Alliance and the Imperial Army. They would take care of the Demon Palace to protect their own order, so Zhang Jian didn't need to get involved.

With that, he looked at Jia Luoming, who was now exuding dark energy. His gray, dull eyes showed no sign of reason. Was Jia Luoming still alive inside? Zhang Jian, unfamiliar with brainwashing or curses, couldn't be sure.

Hoping this was the right decision, Zhang Jian abandoned his defensive stance and charged at the man. Closing the distance in one step, he crouched and swept the man's legs with a kick.

The man, tripped, spun half a turn in the air, and Zhang Jian immediately stood up and punched. The lightning-fast punch struck the man's face.

The man's head hit the floor first, the impact so strong that it cracked the floor tiles. He fell to the ground, motionless.

"Was it... that easy?"

Nangong Yezhun, watching, muttered in disbelief. It was absurd that Zhang Jian had taken down the man so quickly, especially since he had been a hostage.

Regardless of Nangong Yezhun's shock, Zhang Jian quickly checked the man's head and pulse. Despite the force that shattered the floor tiles, there were no visible wounds on his head. This was because the internal energy that shattered the tiles had passed through the man's head without causing internal damage.

"Hmm."

Confirming that the man was unconscious but still alive, Zhang Jian stood up. He didn't know what had happened, but the branch chief, Jia Wuxian, would take care of it. Zhang Jian felt he had done his part by not killing him.

After that, Zhang Jian turned to Nangong Yezhun, who was leaning against the stone coffin. Nangong Yezhun, staring at Zhang Jian with a bewildered look, stiffened when he saw the black spear tip in Zhang Jian's right hand.

"An object imbued with hatred. Did you retrieve it from that pile of ashes?"

"No. Someone on a black horse delivered it."

Zhang Jian slowly approached Nangong Yezhun and squatted in front of him. Nangong Yezhun, trembling and with disheveled hair and beard, glared at Zhang Jian, clutching his chest.

"Kuh... Neither the Imperial Army nor the Martial Arts Alliance, and you ruin the palace's plans for some unrelated grudge."

"You should have lived a better life."

"Better? Do you think we could live any other way? Do you say this knowing a thousand years of oppression and tyranny?"

Zhang Jian scratched his chin with his left hand. He thought it was absurd that those who had suffered would now torment others, but he didn't want to argue with this man. So, he simply raised the spear tip and stabbed it into Nangong Yezhun's chest before standing up.

"Kuh!"

The spear tip, embedded in Nangong Yezhun's chest, wriggled as if alive, even after Zhang Jian let go. It continued to wriggle, destroying his insides until his movements ceased.

Zhang Jian, looking down at Nangong Yezhun's body, lightly sniffed and took out a cigarette. As he lit it, the entrance he had destroyed became noisy, and the branch chief, Jia Wuxian, and the Martial Arts Alliance warriors poured in.

Taking a puff of the cigarette, Zhang Jian nodded toward the fallen man, and Jia Wuxian, finally noticing his son, shouted, "Luoming!"

Zhang Jian, smoking, watched as Jia Wuxian examined his son and the warriors caused a commotion. His shoulder and chest ached.