Chapter 32: Jian Zhuo

Suppressing the faint elation bubbling within him, Lin Yang surveyed his surroundings before swiftly moving in a chosen direction. However, his progress came to a halt once more, as a middle-aged man exuding an air of profundity emerged from the dense forest ahead. His eyes fell upon Lin Yang with a faint smile.

Lin Yang's expression turned grim. Clad in green attire, this middle-aged man possessed a clean-shaven face, giving him an appearance of elegance. A splendid sword adorned his waist, seemingly harmless. However, Lin Yang couldn't shake the intense feeling of danger radiating from him.

With a single glance, Lin Yang recognized the obstacle before him - "Light Sword" Jian Zhuo. Known for his mastery in wielding light swords, he had earned the moniker 'Light Sword'. In the past, he had been affiliated with the Lin Clan, imparting martial arts knowledge to its disciples.

Over time, he had grown closer to the third branch, even becoming an integral part of Lin Yun's journey. Acting as Lin Yun's right-hand man for the past two years, Jian Zhuo played a pivotal role in elevating Lin Yun to his current position as the Sixth Young Master.

To encounter him here and now was unexpected and sent chills down Lin Yang's spine. The pressure emanating from Jian Zhuo was formidable.

"Ninth Young Master, come with me," Jian Zhuo calmly stated, raising his gaze to meet Lin Yang's.

His eyes shimmered like water, a gentle smile gracing his beardless face. It was as though he saw a misbehaving child in need of guidance.

"Return with me, surrender your ambitions and fortunes. Kneel and admit your mistakes. You are intelligent, led astray only by rebellion. By sincerely repenting, there may be a chance for you to be accepted by the Lin Clan again," Jian Zhuo's gaze retained its gentle expression as he addressed Lin Yang, his tone reminiscent of an advisor counselling a wayward individual.

Lin Yang was taken aback, followed by a strange laughter. "Jian Zhuo, have you lost your mind?"

Jian Zhuo remained unperturbed, his gaze unchanged. He continued to regard Lin Yang as a disobedient child, unaffected by his derisive reaction.

Jian Zhuo shook his head and spoke. "Lin Yang, I understand that your mind has clouded due to your sudden rise in power, leading you astray. Hence, your stubbornness and unfilial actions. I won't blame you. Once you return with me, you will regain clarity and repent."

Lin Yang shook his head. "Jian Zhuo, your confidence is misplaced. The Spirit Awakening Realm consists of three minor stages, each divided into three levels. You stand at the peak of the middle stage. Do you think you can defeat me? Your words are merely self-righteous, as if you wish to impart a life lesson. But, in my eyes, you are nothing more than a righteous and moralistic clown!"

Jian Zhuo was taken aback, clearly unprepared for Lin Yang's assessment. His brows furrowed, but after a moment, he relaxed and responded.

"Very well, it appears that you have lost yourself in the pursuit of power and strayed from the right path. However, once I apprehend you, I will find a way to guide you back onto the correct path!"

"Jian Zhuo, you have already lost yourself in the mindset of a lapdog, yet you accuse me of going astray? It's the most amusing irony!" Lin Yang couldn't help but burst into laughter, though he maintained utmost caution against Jian Zhuo.

"Let's see how you handle my fist first, Kun Subduing Sea!" He knew that the first move often held the advantage.

Lin Yang's fist, a whirlwind of raw might, bifurcated the air, trailing a comet's tail of dust and debris. His muscles, hewn from countless hours of perseverance, were like coiled dragons beneath his skin—bulging and undulating with each movement.

The punch he unfurled carried the legacy of countless forebears, an inherited mantle of power that resonated with the ancestral roar of a sea-conquering kun. The very air around it compressed, sending out ripples as if reality itself protested the encroachment.

"What kind of fist technique is this? What incredible strength! It must be a superior-grade mundane fist technique. No wonder you're so confident!" Jian Zhuo's shoulders shifted like a slippery loach. Surprise sparkled in his eyes, soon followed by a touch of confidence.

"However, that means nothing," Jian Zhuo sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "The disparity in our cultivation levels cannot be equalized by mere technique!" With a swift flick of his wrist, his fingers transformed into a blur of motion, morphing into a lightning-fast palm that hurtled toward Lin Yang with deadly precision.

Middle-stage mundane skill - Ice Jade Palm!

As his palm struck out, an eerie and malevolent energy surged forth, enveloping the air around them in a frigid shroud. Shadows of countless palms multiplied, casting an ominous glow as they closed in on Lin Yang, squeezing the very essence of warmth out of the surrounding space.

A bone-chilling terror coursed through Lin Yang's veins as the palm shadows encased his entire body, rendering him immobile. It was as if icy tendrils were coiling around his limbs, threatening to freeze him from the inside out. The sheer power and malevolence of Jian Zhuo's attack sent shivers down his spine, warning him of the impending danger.

Crack! Crack! The sickening sound of bones echoed through the air as Lin Yang's body contorted in an almost unnatural manner, mirroring the movements of a mythical Great Peng that narrowly escaped the clutches of the palm strike.

The astonishing flexibility and resilience he exhibited ignited a strange glimmer of surprise in Jian Zhuo's eyes.

The Peng Sky-commanding Fist was not merely a set of martial techniques, but also encompassed intricate body movements and footwork. It possessed an unparalleled, deceptive versatility.

Jian Zhuo's keen eyes could discern the brilliance of this fist technique at a glance.

While he was surprised by Lin Yang's mastery of such a remarkable technique, he remained unperturbed. He did not believe that Lin Yang could escape from his palm.

A faint smile graced his face, for he knew his true strength did not lie in his palm technique, but in the longsword sheathed at his side.

Thunder Dragon Swords!

With this high-grade mundane sword technique, he had claimed the lives of no fewer than ten formidable opponents at a similar level.