Chapter 1062: Chapter 691: The Great Grandmaster and His Seven Little Dwarfs!
"I am my own bargaining chip," Tang Fei spoke up.
"Oh?"
Shen Wuxiang looked thoughtfully at Tang Fei and asked, "Have you comprehended the Dao?"
"I comprehended it long ago."
"What Dao did you comprehend?"
"Even a Great Grandmaster will die when killed."
"Makes sense."
"Indeed, it makes a lot of sense."
Shen Wuxiang looked around and said sarcastically, "So, are you planning to have those pieces of scrap metal surround me?"
"They are not pieces of scrap metal, they are my brothers through life and death," Tang Fei retorted, "In front of the Military Minister, why still hide? Everyone should come out and show themselves."
As soon as he finished speaking, snow-white ice flowers formed in the air, and even the branches and tiles were covered with frost.
The seaside air was humid, filled with a lot of Water Element, and this frost was catalyzed by a fierce, murderous Sword Intent.
Except for that round table.
That small round table seemed to be a world of its own, unaffected by any external factors.
The water was still clear, the tea was still hot, and it couldn’t blow a single strand of hair.
Outside the courtyard gate stood a young man in white, whiter than snow.
Cold, aloof, and stunningly handsome.
"Netherworld Palace Master, Bai Wuxin."
The man’s tone was indifferent, even his voice seemed wrapped in a layer of ice.
Swoosh...
On the rooftop, a figure appeared out of nowhere, seemingly covered in a white shadow.
The scorching sun was overhead, but the place where he stood was shrouded in a thick, impenetrable white mist.
A thousand miles of ice, ten thousand miles of snow.
The man carried a long sword at his waist, stood tall, and said in a deep voice, "Extreme Cold Sword, Ling Yunxiao."
Clang...
A clear, ethereal, yet chilly metallic tone suddenly rang out.
Like ice spring falling into a deep pool, it instantly pierced through the long-suppressed silence in front of the courtyard gate.
The sound wasn’t loud, yet it was extraordinarily clear, penetrating into everyone’s ears, carrying a strangely powerful penetration power, as if it could directly shake their souls.
With this string sound, an invisible but extremely powerful sonic wave rippled out.
The wind blew, waves surged, and the colorful bougainvillea petals in the corner of the courtyard fell to the ground.
A shower of falling petals, beautifully sad.
Those with low concentration immediately felt numb and frozen upon hearing this sound, with a splitting headache, as if a sharp blade was slicing through their brains.
Sonic Wave Technique!
Then, a beautiful woman dressed in a scarlet palace outfit and wearing a black veil appeared above the sea, holding an ancient wooden lute.
With bare feet, she walked on the sea.
A light, faint, somewhat lazy, teasing laugh came from beneath her veil:
"Sound-obsessed, Tuoba Zhiyin."
Behind her, a man dressed in exquisite, luxurious clothes, handsome as a demon, followed closely.
He first glanced at Bai Wuxin’s position, displaying a contemptuous and hostile expression, and then said in a coquettish voice, "Duan Shuilou, Xie Pianxian."
Splash!
The seawater splashed up, and a burly figure holding a giant wine gourd surged up.
His body floated in mid-air, lifting the wine pot and taking a big swig:
"Wine-obsessed, Sheng Kuang."
Clunk, clunk, clunk...
Little Fatty walked step by step from the doorway, holding a Skull Hammer, with each piece weighing a thousand pounds, each step leaving a deep footprint on the hard stone pavement.
He walked straight to Tang Fei’s back and stopped. Thinking of how everyone had introduced themselves, each with considerable renown, while he didn’t have...
So, with a red face, he said in a low voice, "Tang Fei’s younger brother... Barbarian Clan Gong Shulei."
"Sound-obsessed and Wine-obsessed, Extreme Cold Sword, Duan Shuilou... and that boy surnamed Bai at the door... each one is in the Minor Grandmaster Realm."
Shen Wuxiang’s gaze fell on Little Fatty’s face. He heard from Xing Lan that this boy was very peculiar, not adept at cultivation, with no trace of Yin Yang Qi flowing in him, yet when he entered a frenzied madness, he could chase him with a hammer.
Consider him above a Little Grandmaster then.
Shen Wuxiang looked at Tang Fei and said aloud, "Counting you, there are seven Little Grandmasters... do you think that’s enough to kill me?"
"We have to try."
"No matter how bad I, Shen Wuxiang, am, I can gather ten or eight Little Grandmasters. Do you know why I didn’t bring any?"
"Why?" Tang Fei asked.
He knew the answer, but he wanted Shen Wuxiang to say it himself.
A mocking smile appeared on Shen Wuxiang’s face: "Because they are all burdens."
"..."
Only Shen Wuxiang could call Little Grandmasters ’burdens’ in heaven and earth.
And he said it with such genuine emotion, so candidly fearless.
The killing intent in Bai Wuxin’s eyes grew stronger, Tuoba Zhiyin strummed the lute again, making a buzzing sound.
The Wine-obsessed lifted the wine gourd and drank fiercely, everyone knew the more he drank, the drunker he got, the stronger his Fist Technique became.
Xie Pianxian snorted coldly, seeming both angry and disdainful.
Little Fatty tightened his grip on the Skull Hammer, his palms already sweaty.
A strong impulse surged within him, they were so close, if he suddenly struck, with one slam of the hammer...
Could he kill Shen Wuxiang?
He didn’t care about the Martial Artist spirit, even less about dignity and face.
Even if pointed at and spat upon by thousands, it didn’t matter.
If he could kill Shen Wuxiang with one slam, it would be tantamount to removing a major hidden threat for his big brother.
He was willing to bear all the... consequences.
Shen Wuxiang seemed to sense Little Fatty’s emotions, those deep and unfathomable eyes swept over, and with an enticing voice said, "Want to try? Maybe you’ll succeed."
Little Fatty’s face turned even redder, and even his breathing became rapid.
Tang Fei chuckled and said, "Military Minister, why make things difficult for a child?"
"He is not a child," Shen Wuxiang said.
"Yes, I am not."
As Little Fatty spoke, the Skull Hammer in his hand fell toward Shen Wuxiang’s head like a thunderbolt.
Their distance was so close, it only took lifting the hammer and smashing down...
Gamble it all!
He didn’t want to miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to strike, anyway, the outcome would be nothing more than...
Either he dies...
Or I die.
Little Fatty wasn’t afraid of death, not the slightest bit.
The Skull Hammer sensed its master’s battle intent and let out a sound like ghostly wailing from its wide-open mouth.
A piercing shriek echoed like ten thousand ghosts crying, enveloping Shen Wuxiang with a tangible stench, as the sonic waves passed, even the air stirred a thick, bloody murderous intent.
"Noisy."
A very faint cold snort pierced through the haze.
Shen Wuxiang struck out with a palm, the fierce assault of the Skull Hammer seemed to hit an invisible barrier, instantly breaking inch by inch, obliterated.
The giant mouth of the hammer let out a sharp lament, the bloodthirsty aura scattering chaotically.
Little Fatty, along with the hammer, was slapped and sent flying.
Outside the courtyard gate, that snowy-white figure moved.
Bai Wuxin didn’t even lift his eyes, his long sword swiftly left its sheath from his waist, casually slicing through the void.
There was no earth-shattering sword light, only a fierce, bone-chilling Sword Qi burst forth.
Only...
"Clang!"
A decisive and frigid single note like an ice spring cracking jade suddenly echoed.
Shen Wuxiang’s body, seated at the table, was enveloped by Sword Intent, ready to be torn into thousands of pieces at any moment.
Shen Wuxiang remained calm and steady, gently pouring out the steaming cup of tea in his hand.
The droplets of water turned into sharp swords, making a clattering sound in the air.
Twig snapped and leaves fell, on the walls, countless neat and evenly sized holes appeared.
Bai Wuxin’s overwhelming Sword Intent was neutralized by this single cup of tea.
Bang!
Wine-obsessed Sheng Kuang raised his head and downed the last mouthful of spirit, suddenly smashing the giant wine gourd onto the ground.
What spewed from his mouth was no longer wine, but a flame blaze capable of incinerating the sky and sea.
The roaring flames transformed into a fierce Flame Dragon, lunging straight at Shen Wuxiang’s face.
"Buzz..."
Almost at the same time, the ancient lute in Tuoba Zhiyin’s arms played.
With a light pluck of the slender fingers, the mesmerizing magic sound no longer bewitched the mind, but transformed into countless Sound Blades slicing the soul.
The Sound Blades, invisible and colorless, tore through the air with a sharp whistle, twisting towards every vital point around Shen Wuxiang from all sides.
Head, neck, chest, back, thigh bones, and ankles...
Everywhere.
Little Fatty’s sneak attack failed, filled with extreme resentment.
His eyes blood-red, he roared, wielding the enormous Skull Hammer—its ghost wail broken, its fierce power slightly reduced but still heavy—like a rampaging bull smashing directly towards Shen Wuxiang’s chest.
At this moment, there was only one thought in his mind: Smash Shen Wuxiang to death.
Ling Yunxiao’s figure moved like lightning, the sword light concentrated like a line of cold stars, stabbing straight at the fatal point on Shen Wuxiang’s back.
Xie Pianxian’s movement technique was ghostly and elusive, with her fair hands flying, countless Poisoned Needles with a cold blue gleam sealed off all of Shen Wuxiang’s escape routes silently.
Silver Needles scattering like rain.
Six-fold deadly assault!
Sealing heaven and earth!
Everyone moved into action.
Except for Tang Fei.
In the storm’s center, Shen Wuxiang’s wide sleeves fluttered without wind.
The usual trace of mockery remained on his face, but his gaze was heavy as an abyss.
He had read the works of that Blue Star great man: Despise the enemy strategically, value the enemy tactically.
Boundless True Yuan exploded mightily like the sea, forming a visible red Gang Qi vortex around him.
The Flame Dragon crashed into the vortex, the flames swirling back and splattering everywhere.
The invisible Sound Blades cut into the Gang Qi, producing a teeth-on-edge cutting sound.
The Skull Hammer struck down, the Gang Qi dented by a foot but instantly rebounded.
The Skull Hammer was blasted back, and Little Fatty was sent flying once more...
Ling Yunxiao’s sword tip was only three inches away from the back heart, yet it could hardly move forward any more.
The Poisoned Needles were directly shattered into dust by the ferocious Gang Qi, unable to touch even the corner of Shen Wuxiang’s garment.
"Junk metal, no matter how many, still scrap!"
Shen Wuxiang coldly shouted, with a flip of both palms, two enormous red phantom palm shadows condensed to the extreme were about to strike out, forcibly shattering the surrounding assault.
Just at this moment, when old force had just dissipated and new force was not yet born...
Tang Fei finally seized his moment.
He had been waiting for this moment, waiting for Shen Wuxiang to reveal a flaw.
Tang Fei moved, suddenly appearing in the void above Shen Wuxiang’s head.
He didn’t know when the Yin Erosion Sword had arrived in his hands, gripping the sword handle with both hands like a descending god, slashing directly at Shen Wuxiang’s head.
Silence!
No light!
No rampant Sword Qi!
Only the extreme ’intent’ concentrated to the fingertip arriving.
Time Sword Intent.
An ancient, desolate virtual image of the Six Paths Wheel appeared, seemingly bearing the reincarnation of all souls.
Where the sword pointed, it was not flesh and blood being cut, but the ’karma’ and ’threads of destiny’ entwining Shen Wuxiang in the unseen realms.
"Hmm?"
Shen Wuxiang’s pupils shrank, his expression drastically changed.
