Chapter 169: Flesh and Blood

After Zuo Zhicheng finished speaking, his killing intent flared briefly before receding. His Power of Mind and Spirit was far weaker than that of the Crimson Sun Monk, so he never considered competing in that area.

‘Although we are both of the Human Aspect, my cultivation in this regard is far inferior to his. Attacking him with the Power of Mind and Spirit would barely cause him any harm.’

‘The only way is to destroy him physically.’

‘Then the probing ends here.’

Zuo Zhicheng’s figure flickered rapidly, leaving a trail of afterimages as he circled the Crimson Sun Monk. He could have used Night Sea to launch some attacks, but in front of everyone, he did not want to reveal his Dao Arts cultivation. So, he opted for these swift movements to confuse the monk’s vision.

The Crimson Sun Monk recovered from his initial shock, clasped his hands together, and everyone saw faint crimson light glowing on his skin. The Crimson Sun Heartscape behind him shrank, as he reduced its attack range to amplify the strength around his body.

Meanwhile, Zuo Zhicheng continued his high-speed movements, dodging the Crimson Sun Monk’s Scorching Sun Blaze. In the next moment, he charged toward the monk, brimming with wild killing intent.

The fierce wind and chill of the killing intent swept over the Crimson Sun Monk, making him feel as though his body temperature dropped slightly.

His hands bloomed like a lotus, and the Scorching Sun Blaze reappeared. This time, Zuo Zhicheng endured it with his physical and mental strength, rushing forward relentlessly. The Crimson Sun Monk could only rely on his fists and feet to counter Zuo Zhicheng’s assault.

Zuo Zhicheng’s speed remained terrifyingly fast; in the blink of an eye, a fist loomed large in the monk’s vision.

With a loud thud, the Crimson Sun Monk barely blocked the first punch, but Zuo Zhicheng immediately followed with a second.

Clenching his fingers tightly, the second punch struck like a mountain, aimed squarely at the monk’s body. As Zuo Zhicheng threw the punch, the muscles in his entire arm swelled violently, his blood and energy surging wildly, as if channeling all his strength into that single blow.

Facing this second punch, the Crimson Sun Monk neither retreated nor dodged. He knew he could not evade Zuo Zhicheng’s attack, nor could he clearly see the trajectory of Zuo Zhicheng’s fist. He simply met Zuo Zhicheng’s body with a palm strike.

Their arms collided like two steel rods, producing a startling crash.

Although their moves were simple, the impact was immense in the eyes of those watching.

The wind gusts from Zuo Zhicheng’s movements alone, along with the explosive air currents, nearly blinded the onlookers. Moreover, when their arms clashed, visible ripples of air spread around.

A few martial artists closest to them fainted on the spot, their eyes rolling back.

Under the immense force exerted by both, the bricks beneath their feet shattered, flying out in all directions as rubble and debris.

Under such intimidation, no one dared approach, and the crowd scattered in panic.

A third loud boom erupted from between the two combatants.

With this impact, their clothes flapped wildly in the raging wind, and the tiles beneath them were completely destroyed.

The Crimson Sun Monk staggered backward, a flash of red crossing his face, with blood trickling from the corners of his mouth and ears. His hands trembled uncontrollably, almost unable to form fists.

On the other side, Zuo Zhicheng did not fare much better. His fists were crimson red, steaming with white vapor as if cooked, and the moisture in his body was rapidly depleting.

The outcome of their unrestrained face-off was clear: Zuo Zhicheng surpassed in physical strength, while the Crimson Sun Monk held the upper hand in mental cultivation.

Just then, the sounds of approaching troops echoed from all sides. A ruthless glint flashed in the Crimson Sun Monk’s eyes, and after a blinding flash of light, he leaped over the wall.

Zuo Zhicheng’s eyes turned cold, and ignoring the injuries to his hands, he gave chase.

“Be careful.”

“They’re trying to escape!”

Styx, Yuwen, and White Wraith scattered in different directions. Yuwen had just knocked down several martial artists and scaled the wall when a dark figure rushed past him, pursuing the Crimson Sun Monk.

“Zuo Zhicheng?” He barely had time to wonder why Zuo Zhicheng ignored him when excruciating pain shot through his back. Before he could process it, he lost consciousness completely.

He collapsed to the ground, a gaping hole left in his chest.

Meanwhile, White Wraith was surrounded by Lin Ganghao and others. Styx, with his Jian in hand, carved a bloody path through the crowd; no one could withstand a single strike from him.

However, Qingyue Qiu tapped a gourd at her waist, and a white figure materialized before her. Styx swung his Jian, effortlessly slicing the figure in half, but the attack had no effect. The bisected white form split into two directions, attacking Styx from both sides.

Around him, more and more white shadows converged. As Styx struck repeatedly, the white mist became more dispersed, enveloping him like a shroud.

As for the strongest among them, the Crimson Sun Monk, he was caught within a hundred meters. The pursuer was not Zuo Zhicheng but a Flying Sword, far faster than him.

The Crimson Sun Monk barely dodged a few strikes but lost two fingers in the process.

At his peak, he might have been able to handle Li Xunyi, but after the intense fight with Zuo Zhicheng, his body was severely wounded, and his hands were nearly useless.

Facing the Flying Sword, a bane to Martial Artists, he quickly found himself overwhelmed.

“Crimson Sun Monk, take this punch!”

Just then, he sensed movement behind him and heard Zuo Zhicheng’s voice. Instinctively, he threw a backward punch. A loud crack followed as a small glass vial shattered under his fist, splashing liquid onto his face and body. He let out a furious roar.

It was sulfuric acid concocted by Zuo Zhicheng himself.

Already weakened by severe injuries, blood loss, and the loss of his fingers, the Crimson Sun Monk’s condition worsened.

His enemies showed no mercy. A white flash streaked by, and as the Flying Sword descended, the Crimson Sun Monk barely raised his arm to block it, only to have his right forearm severed completely.

Zuo Zhicheng had already closed in, throwing another punch at the heavily wounded monk.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound resembled a pile driver striking repeatedly. Li Xunyi could almost feel the ground trembling beneath his feet.

After a few punches, the Crimson Sun Monk’s consciousness faded. The Flying Sword spun mid-air and pierced through his back.

The monk instinctively kicked, trying to escape, but Zuo Zhicheng seized his foot. Like swinging a pancake, Zuo Zhicheng slammed him from one side of the ground to the other.

Bang! Then another impact followed, like steel striking iron plates.

By the time the surrounding soldiers finally arrived, they saw Zuo Zhicheng standing calmly, his fists covered in blood, masking his original burns.

Before him lay a mangled mass of flesh and blood, no longer recognizable as human.