Chapter 173.1 : Are you from China?

"Master!"

Amidst the rustling reeds, a respectful voice pierced the tranquility.

"Just when you're about to start working…"

Boom!

Before the speaker could finish, a palm formed of shimmering gold particles materialized, its pointed fingers aimed at his forehead.

Confronted with this sudden display, the man's eyes widened in alarm as he swiftly attempted to evade the impending strike.

"Phew!"

The man, Lu Huaying, direct disciple of Luo Hao, breathed a sigh of relief.

Ever since childhood, he had been trained rigorously by his master, Luo Hao. His agility had improved with each passing day. While he might not match Luo Hao in skill, he surpassed five of his six fellow disciples and boasted considerable martial prowess.

Were it not for Campione's seemingly endless capabilities and near-immortality, he might have stood a chance against him.

Unfortunately, his master forbade him from attempting to confront the Heretic God for the time being.

"At least now I can endure more casual blows from my master," thought Lu Huaying, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

But in the next instant, his expression froze.

Boom!

A thunderous crash sounded from behind.

His body lurched forward as the golden fingers extended straight toward him.

Boom!

A spurt of blood erupted as Lu Huaying was sent hurtling, landing hundreds of miles away atop a mountain peak.

"Woman!"

"Such a beautiful woman."

"She truly is a fearsome being."

Lu Huaying trembled, his disdain for women intensifying.

Yet, this sentiment did not overshadow his reverence for Luo Hao as a mentor.

Meanwhile, amidst the swaying grass and reeds, Luo Hao rose from her reclined position, stretching lazily. Her graceful figure, coupled with her charmingly cute face adorned with a traditional Hanfu and a unique ball-shaped hairstyle, exuded an aura of extraordinary allure.

"A new technique from the old marquis?"

"Is this a declaration of war against me… hmm?"

Luo Hao's eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity tinged with wariness.

In the looming shadow of the towering Menos Grande, the very fabric of the environment began to shift.

From a bird's-eye view, two identical alpine islands sprawled out, each as expansive as a province in China, with an endless expanse of ocean stretching between them.

Above this ocean, where no sun dared to shine, a peculiar light cascaded down, casting an eerie glow over the scene.

To ordinary observers, it was clear this was no mere illusion.

Mirages didn't come with plot advancements, after all.

"Ah!," came a slight cough from Voban, the instigator of the disturbance on Luo Hao side. 

Tobirama's silhouette loomed atop a mountain peak on one of the islands, his gaze fixed on Voban, who hovered not far away.

"I've spotted the old marquis," Tobirama gruffly acknowledged Vorban.

His voice carried across realms, sending shockwaves through the gathered onlookers.

What in the world was happening?

Was this some sort of hologram or illusion?

Why were they hearing sounds too, ringing in their ears so strangely?

"What of the insolent ones?" the old marquis queried Tobirama.

Though this Ninjutsu master "Ant" displayed intriguing abilities, he remained, in essence, an Ant. In a world teeming with individuals possessing diverse powers, he didn't command much attention.

Before absolute strength, before the might of Campione, little else mattered.

Not everyone could be like Luo Hao.

"The old marquis knows that rushing leads to burnt fingers," a voice interjected suddenly.

All eyes turned to see another figure beside Tobirama, suspended in the air just like him.

This man exuded confidence, arms folded, with a striking presence, handsome features, and a curious rune etched between his brows, adding an air of mystique. Clad in sleek black battle attire, he emanated an aura of power.

In the mere glance of this man, countless women find themselves compelled to lower themselves, feeling an urge to surrender to their primal instincts.

His allure knows no bounds!

"Alright?"

Luo Hao's serene yet enigmatic gaze flickered with intrigue.

Confidence (or perhaps, narcissism) radiated from her, firmly convinced that she was the epitome of beauty, possessing the most enchanting visage in the entire world. Not only that, but she believed herself to be of noble lineage (descended from Yanhuang), inheriting formidable martial prowess and arcane magic. Holding a prestigious position as the leader of a martial arts alliance, she never entertained the notion that any man could match her worth.

Ordinary men, in her eyes, were but trifles.

However, now, in terms of demeanor and appearance, she found Ran to be worthy of standing by her side, sharing a meal with her.

As for further considerations, they depended on this man's strength and his composure in facing adversity.

"More haste, less speed?"

"Chinese dialect, are you from China?" Voban's brows furrowed.

Due to Luo Hao's affiliation, China was a forbidden territory for him, a fact that unsettled him greatly.

It pained him to realize there were places in this world he couldn't tread, and he harbored resentment toward Luo Hao's origins.

Yet, what irked him most was China's rich tapestry of myths, where even a god might slip through one's fingers. He knew well of two powers originating from China, an opportunity now denied by Luo Hao.

His relentless pursuit to defeat Luo Hao stemmed, in part, from his desire to freely roam China, hunting down those Heretic Gods.