Chapter 33: Mr. Zhuo!

Jian Zhuo could feel the ominous aura of death closing in on him. His eyes widened in terror as a rare trace of fear involuntarily crept onto his face. Desperately trying to suppress the shock welling up within him, he raised his longsword in a swift motion, directing it towards Lin Yang's abdomen with lightning-like speed.

It was a move of mutual destruction.

This was Jian Zhuo's trump card. He knew that he couldn't withstand the terrifying power behind Lin Yang's fist. If Lin Yang was determined to kill him, Jian Zhuo would be gravely injured at the very least, and quite possibly killed by the force of his own longsword.

Confident in the fact that nobody was truly unafraid of death, Jian Zhuo predicted that Lin Yang would dodge his attack, using the opening to retreat. Once he pulled away, it would be exceedingly difficult for Lin Yang to successfully kill him again.

Furthermore, Jian Zhuo knew all too well that the forest was teeming with the Lin Family's search teams. The commotion caused by their confrontation would inevitably draw their attention. If he could just delay Lin Yang for a little longer, his death would be all but guaranteed.

In mere moments, these thoughts raced through Jian Zhuo's mind. A victorious smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Clang Clang!

The resounding clash of metal rang out, but it quickly became apparent that the outcome was not as Jian Zhuo had envisioned.

Lin Yang's body seemed to be encased in an impenetrable layer of scales. When Jian Zhuo's longsword pierced his shoulder, it ignited a shower of sparks, as if the blade had slipped off a slick and formidable dragon scale. The sword merely left behind a faint white mark!

Simultaneously, an incomprehensible force penetrated Jian Zhuo's abdomen.

With a vengeful twist, Lin Yang tore into Jian Zhuo's stomach, his fist breaking through with terrifying efficiency.

"What... what kind of fist technique is this?" Jian Zhuo's face paled rapidly as he gazed at Lin Yang with lifeless eyes. "How is this even possible?"

Lin Yang retracted his hand, his gaze cold and unyielding as he met Jian Zhuo's fading vitality. "This is the Kun Peng Yin-Yang Way. The Kun represents stillness, while the Peng signifies movement. Within the Kun Peng lies the Kun Qi and the Peng Qi. My body is infused with the Kun Qi from the Kun Sea Subduing Fist. Your longsword is incapable of even nicking a single hair on me. On the other hand, the Peng Qi imbued within my Peng-Sky Commanding Fist can effortlessly penetrate your defenses."

The Kun Peng Yin-Yang Way was a formidable martial art that possessed both offensive and defensive capabilities. Its true brilliance, however, lay in the seamless fusion of motion and stillness. Defense blended with tranquility, while attack was synonymous with relentless movement.

"From the very outset, you were never my equal," Lin Yang spoke with a hint of disdain, his lips curling into a sardonic smile. "When you were patronizing and lecturing me, you were nothing more than a foolish clown. I merely revealed your sanctimonious facade before your imminent demise."

Lin Yang glanced down at his bloodied and moist hands, casually wiping them on Jian Zhuo's luxurious and delicate brocade attire. "You," he continued, his gaze locking onto Jian Zhuo's lifeless eyes, "are deserving of nothing but contempt."

Jian Zhuo attempted to point accusingly at Lin Yang, but all he managed to do was cough up a mouthful of blood. Slowly, he crumpled to the ground, his eyes forever wide open.

With a final breath, Jian Zhuo succumbed to his wounds and embraced death.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Lin Yang exhaled a breath filled with exhaustion and pain as he leaned against the bronze cauldron, paying no mind to his disheveled appearance. His arms throbbed with a fiery ache, and his muscles and bones felt sore and tender.

Assessing his surroundings, Lin Yang realized the urgency of the situation. The forest was swarming with the Lin Family's search teams, and there was no telling when they would stumble upon this location.

Pushing through the pain, Lin Yang stood up and hastily began searching Jian Zhuo's lifeless body. Compared to the others, Jian Zhuo had held a higher status within the Lin Family, which meant there was a higher chance of finding valuable items.

As he rummaged through Jian Zhuo's belongings, Lin Yang's eyes widened in surprise. He discovered over a dozen banknotes, each worth more than a thousand. It was an unexpected windfall.

What intrigued him even more were two bottles of Essence Revolving Pills. Compared to the banknotes, these medicinal pills held a higher value in Lin Yang's eyes.

Lastly, Lin Yang's attention fell upon Jian Zhuo's personal weapon—a silver-white, sharp, ancient sword. Although not particularly skilled in swordsmanship, Lin Yang had a profound fondness for these types of weapons. He quickly fastened the sword to his waist, almost feeling a surge of satisfaction.

With his search complete, Lin Yang wasted no time in cleaning up the scene, erasing any evidence of their confrontation. Without further ado, he vanished into the dense forest, veering away from town and instead heading deeper into the treacherous terrain of the Black Forest Mountain Range.

The clash between Lin Yang and Jian Zhuo had not gone unnoticed. Shortly after Lin Yang's departure, a search team consisting of eight or nine individuals arrived at the scene. The leader, a middle-aged man dressed in attire suitable for stealth, exhibited caution and shrewdness. His eyes darted back and forth, and he moved with an almost imperceptible lightness in his step, ever-vigilant and ready to take cover at a moment's notice.

"I smell blood. Stay alert, everyone. The culprit might be lurking in the bushes," the leader warned, his voice hushed.

"Look! We have a dead body here!" exclaimed one of the searching experts, pushing aside the foliage to reveal the grim sight.

His words sent his companions rushing to his side. All eyes were drawn to the figure lying motionless in front of the bushes. Just a short distance away, the lone bronze cauldron stood as a silent sentinel. The deceased's eyes were wide open, glaring towards their direction.

The leader hurriedly approached, horror etched into his features. "No... it's Jian Zhuo, Mr. Zhuo!"

"Impossible! Are you sure?" gasped the others, their expressions mirroring their disbelief. They hurriedly gathered around, their gazes fixed on the lifeless figure before them, a flicker of fear in their eyes.

Jian Zhuo, a formidable expert at the Middle Stage of the Spirit Awakening Realm, had met his demise in this very spot. All members of the search team combined may not have been able to defeat him, yet he had fallen without a sound.

The gravity of the situation sent a wave of trepidation washing over them. How could this "waste" have killed Jian Zhuo, an esteemed expert? Panic engulfed their thoughts.

This was disastrous!

An expert at the Middle Stage of the Spirit Awakening Realm held immense importance within the Lin Family. Losing such a vital figure dealt a severe blow to their collective strength.

In no time, a piercing scream pierced the serene forest, drawing countless figures from all corners.

"Mr. Zhuo!" cried Lin Yun, as he dared to approach upon hearing the news, only to be met with the harrowing sight beside the bronze cauldron.

His legs wobbled beneath him, threatening to give way. He knew, in that moment, that he was utterly defeated. Jian Zhuo, the linchpin of Lin Yun's forces, had been severed from their ranks, leaving their unity in shambles. Their chances of contending for the position of family head were completely obliterated.

Coldness seeped into Lin Yun's limbs, dizziness clouded his mind, and his face turned pallid—a grim realization of his own impending demise.