Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 655 - 260: Where There is a Flood Dragon, Slay the Flood Dragon (1/2) (3200)

The youth's form crouched slightly, with the tip of his sword nearly touching the ground.

He took a deep breath.

The next moment, his figure appeared instantly in front of Wang Anfeng, almost creating an afterimage; he spun and slashed, his famous sword generating a fierce blade of light, brutally cleaving down. Wang Anfeng had only enough time to step back half a step, his broad sword instinctively raised to deflect the force.

The clanging sound of swords rang out, like two wild animals in conflict.

The robust and heavy inner strength, heavy as a boulder, almost pressed Wang Anfeng down by half.

The powerful impact formed visible ripples, instantly leveling the ground within a yard radius, then surged, creating waves of qi. The youth with faintly blue hair appeared indifferent, yet emanated an aura found only in martial artists beneath grandmasters in Jianghu.

Fourth Rank.

The youth's sword felt like a massive mountain, steady and overwhelmingly pressuring down.

Behind Wang Anfeng, the Yan Zhi Sword Master, who had just been suppressed, flashed out, invoking Heaven and Earth in a breath, one sword stroke swift like a shooting star, aimed at a lethal acupoint on Wang Anfeng's back.

In the air, the sound of swift swallows chirping could be heard.

Wang Anfeng's pupils constricted, and he suddenly shifted his weight to the side, avoiding the lethal spot. The Yan Zhi Sword only grazed his shoulder, leaving a blood mark, and he rolled away to then rapidly retreat several yards.

The Yan Zhi Sword Master's wrist flickered lightly, the blood on the sword tip dripping onto the grass.

Wang Anfeng's breathing became somewhat hurried, and though the sword wound was tensed by muscle, preventing a significant blood loss, no panic showed on his face. He pressed a pressure point to stop the bleeding and raised his sword again.

The youth nodded slightly and rapidly launched an offensive.

The Yan Zhi Sword Master, meanwhile, patrolled within a thirty-yard radius.

In the blink of an eye, they had exchanged several tens of moves, and the originally picturesque Yu Fu Mountain was nearly shattered to rubble by the crisscrossing Sword Qi.

Wang Anfeng's swordsmanship was brought to its limit, but his opponents would not let him get close. The youth's inner strength far exceeded Wang Anfeng's, bringing both superior strength and speed to consistently pressure him.

And to the side was the Yan Zhi Sword Master, who himself was only slightly weaker.

It seemed they were exceedingly familiar with this way of fighting as a team.

If it weren't for Mr. Ying's early training of Wang Anfeng's intuition, he would have already been nailed to the ground by a sword, and now he could only manage to hold on bitterly. Yet, looking at this situation, it seemed only a matter of time before defeat.

Lin Qiaofu held her breath, her complexion turning slightly pale.

Yuchi Jie clenched his teeth in secret.

Neither of them was a fool. They could guess that the real target of the opponents was likely not them, but Wang Anfeng alone. The two martial artists who attacked were not only above him in martial arts but also adept at fierce sword moves.

With his Sixth Rank martial arts, Wang Anfeng was facing a joint attack by a Fourth Rank and a Fifth Rank without suffering severe injuries.

This was almost the limit of what he could endure.

Yuchi Jie's face turned pale, but he still put on an indifferent facade, comforting both Lin Qiaofu and Lv Baiping,

"Don't worry, Senior Hong Luoyu must still be around. To him, these two are just inferior goods, mere trash that he can dispose of with ease."

Lin Qiaofu nodded, yet shadows overcast her heart. Although Hong Luoyu was undoubtedly strong, he had already taken action once before. How could the opponents not be prepared this time?

A direct thrust of the sword.

Gong Yu and Qianshan Si crossed swords several more times, turning their attention to the fight below, and declared.

"Let's call it quits for today."

But Qianshan Si, previously the picture of gentility, did not afford her the opportunity to withdraw. His longsword swept across, pressing heavily upon Gong Yu's matched sword. Sword Qi spread in all directions, detaining her, and he said, "Call it quits?"

"Miss Gong Yu, as a swordswoman, you should cast aside externals, the heart of life and death, and strike purely with the sword. How can you possibly call it quits?"

Raising his hand, he unleashed another sword stroke that cut through the cold of autumn.

Gong Yu's longsword, which was longer than ordinary weapons, slanted a diagonal slash, bringing with it sword light as cold as snow and several times more sharp than before. It parried the autumn-chilling strike and, continuing with the sword light, disheveled Qianshan Si's hair bun, scraping a cut across his face, leaving a trail of blood. Her voice more chill, she said,

"Step aside."

Qianshan Si's black hair was disheveled, making him look quite disheveled himself, but he only laughed heartily, thoroughly amused, saying,

"Very good, very good!"

"Such a sword could belong only to an Immortal, only to an Immortal! It has not been in vain that I have bitterly awaited this moment for thirteen years. If not for this, how could you possibly have managed to reveal your true skills in a fight against me?"

Gong Yu said in a cold voice:

"Step aside."

The sword in hand hummed and whistled sharply.

One sword could bring eternal cold, one sword could bring the snow of a thousand autumns.

One sword.

Should call down an Immortal from the Jade Void.

The old man by Xie Shan, missing an arm and a leg, raised his head to watch the fight that almost instantly turned from friendly sparring to a battle to the death, the blinding sword light casting a chill in the eyes and hearts of onlookers.

It seemed as if looking up made his neck start to ache; he twisted his neck, lowered his head, and muttered:

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"Madmen."

After a moment of silence, he spat heavily and cursed loudly.

"Stinking madman! Dead madman! Sword madman!!!"

"Madman!"

"Go to hell, madman!"

His voice was agitated, almost startling the nearby Xie Shan to fall out of the pine tree, his eyes wide with astonishment as he watched the unkempt elder suddenly become so worked up.

Just like a madman.

The elder in black sat cross-legged on his mat, listening to the sound of the qin next to his ear, deep in thought and silent, pondering today's arrangements and preparations. Beside him was another middle-aged scholar, handsome in appearance, who was playing Go with the elder while holding a black stone.

He was Danyang County's foremost Go player, yet he wasn't a match for this elder, not even when he held a powerfully aggressive initiative. Instead, this elder had successively captured several of his flood dragons on the board. The scholar smiled wryly, placed the stone down, and saluted with his hands, saying:

"Master's Go skills are brilliant; I am no match."

The elder's expression wasn't exactly warm, nor was there much mockery. He simply said flatly, "You did not do poorly."

The middle-aged scholar sighed and said, "I am ashamed..."

"Clear the board, let's have another game."

"Yes."

The scholar nodded in agreement, taking the initiative to clean up the stones and the board, while the elder lifted his gaze to look outside the window, where the sounds of Jiangnan Road's top qin music could be heard. His hands resting on his feet, he murmured softly:

"I wander the sky by morning and return by evening; I am heaven to the days and nights within the cave."

"Traveling eight thousand in half a day, where there are flood dragons, I slay flood dragons."

Wang Anfeng took a deep breath, evading a sword thrust meant to pierce his heart, his foot kicking the onrushing Yan Zhi Sword Master back.

Behind him was that young man with hair tinged green, wielding a sword.

Dark golden light flickered in Wang Anfeng's eyes as he shouted, his sword like a tiger that had long awaited its moment, baring its fangs and pouncing toward the Yan Zhi Sword Master with such speed that he quickly left the Fourth Rank Martial Artist behind him.

He deployed the Golden Bell Shield's inner strength, the Ten Powers of Tathagata, and even the Thunder Cultivation Technique all at once. All just to catch his opponent off guard.

The Yan Zhi Sword Master's face changed dramatically, and the Fourth Rank Martial Artist's expression also shifted, presumably having employed some Qinggong secret technique, transforming into a sword unsheathed, charging straight at Wang Anfeng.

In a breath's time, it came within half a step's distance.

Wang Anfeng moved his right foot forward, turning his body sharply. A faint golden Buddhist Bell appeared around him, with myriad crimson Buddhist Scriptures flowing erratically upon it. His longsword, gripped like a reverse-held dagger, slashed toward the young man's neck.

The Golden Bell Shield dimmed from the impact.

Wang Anfeng's sword had already torn at the young man's neck, sword Qi scattering, mingled with thunder and raw brute force, tearing open the thick inner strength around the young man's body, leaving trails of blood, yet failing to sever his throat.

Along with a soft clattering sound, a fully silver chain wrapped itself around Wang Anfeng's right wrist. The Yan Zhi Sword Master shouted angrily, mustering all his inner strength to pull Wang Anfeng's right hand to one side.

The green-haired young man, enduring the sharp pain, thrust his sword toward Wang Anfeng's heart.

Wang Anfeng's pupils slightly dilated, his left hand glowing with a faint golden radiance, and he struck the blade in an instant, narrowly shifting his body to avoid a deadly blow. The thrust only grazed his ribcage, spilling blood that dyed his originally dark blue vigorous attire red, his breathing growing rapid.

At that moment, his previous strength was exhausted, and new strength had yet to arise. Barely managing to nearly grievously wound a Fourth Rank Martial Artist in what was almost a successful surprise attack, he had indeed performed to the utmost limit of his current caliber.

Correspondingly, he himself had also reached the brink of exhaustion.

The Fourth Rank young man reached out to grab his left arm, intending to reverse the thrust of his longsword toward Wang Anfeng's throat, but Wang Anfeng used his left hand to execute a series of punches and palm strikes, repeatedly repelling him, until he finally managed to seize the young man's wrist.

At this life-and-death juncture, heedless of the consequences, Wang Anfeng stimulated his acupuncture points with the power of thunder, abruptly enhancing his inner strength, stiffly locking in a standoff with the Fourth Rank Martial Artist, his right hand being pulled by the chain while his left arm engaged the enemy.

Yuchi Jie's face changed dramatically.

A third sword appeared.

From the woods in front of Wang Anfeng, coughing lightly, emerged another figure—a somewhat short, white-haired old woman, her figure as shadowy as a specter, a sword in hand.

The sword was long and without a sheath, adorned with a flood dragon, the dragon head cut off three inches from the blade.

One of the previous generations' ten famous swords, Slaying the Flood Dragon.

Where there is a flood dragon, slay the flood dragon.

The sword thrust forward in an instant.

PS: Today's first update is up... 3,200 words.