449: Chapter 449: Wen Shiba’s Sword 449: Chapter 449: Wen Shiba’s Sword Wen Shiba was about to rush into the pavilion for a fight with Fang Bai, but Ghost Hand stepped across, blocking his path.
“You’re not worthy of crossing hands with my Master!”
Ghost Hand looked down on Wen Shiba with contempt and sneered, “Even fighting with , you’re not worthy!”
Wen Shiba was a young man with trendous talent but also an extre arrogance.
For the past thirty years, all he had heard were praises and flattery.
He had barely faced any setbacks or hardships, which led him to develop a narcissistic attitude that he was “the number one young master in the Secular Ancient Martial World.”
Yet now, this “number one young master” was not only scorned by Fang Bai but even his disciple dared to mock him, which completely infuriated Wen Shiba.
“Seeking death!”
With bloodshot eyes, Wen Shiba bellowed and suddenly leaped into the air.
His legs swept out in rapid succession like autumn leaves before the wind, targeting Ghost Hand with a barrage of kicks.
As a Profound Level early-stage Martial Artist, Wen Shiba aid to overwhelm with a single strike and give Ghost Hand a harsh lesson.
Therefore, he held nothing back in his attack.
His legs, infused with True Yuan, created a whooshing wind sound as they cut the air with rapid, relentless kicks, seemingly unstoppable in their montum.
The full-force blow of a Profound Level early-stage Martial Artist was awe-inspiring.
If it were any other Martial Artist of the sa realm, they surely wouldn’t dare to face Wen Shiba’s attack head-on, likely electing to dodge its edge.
However, Ghost Hand showed no fear.
As a Profound Level early-stage practitioner with battle prowess far exceeding his peers, he regarded Wen Shiba’s powerful strike with only disdain.
Thump—
Ghost Hand threw a punch, following Fang Bai’s simple and brutal style.
His fist smashed directly into the shadows cast by Wen Shiba’s kicking legs,
Wen Shiba let out a muffled grunt.
The graceful movents of his legs’ rapid kicks ca to an abrupt halt mid-air, akin to a speeding bicycle wheel suddenly jamd by a steel rod.
If he hadn’t retracted his moves swiftly and reacted quickly, he would have fallen straight to the ground and ended up bruised and battered.
Even so, upon landing, he stumbled backward seven or eight steps before he could barely steady himself, his legs searing with pain—a truly sorry sight.
“Co on!
Keep going!”
Ghost Hand beckoned to the still unsteady Wen Shiba with a taunting expression on his face.
Wen Shiba did not launch a second attack imdiately.
When his move failed to achieve the intended effect and he faced a setback, Wen Shiba, surprisingly, cald down.
His eyes fixed on Ghost Hand’s hands, which looked gentle and smooth like jade, even more feminine than a woman’s, with an unfathomable glint in them.
“You’re strong!”
Wen Shiba regarded Ghost Hand seriously and said solemnly, “Among my peers, you are the first one worth drawing my sword against!”
There was no grand gesture; with a casual flick of his right hand, a soft sword had already appeared in his grasp.
The sword was three feet long, subtly radiating a chill.
With just a slight shake, the flexible yet sharp blade seed to slither like a snake, as if choosing its next victim to bite.
With the long sword in hand, Wen Shiba seed like a different person.
The rage was gone, replaced by a terrifying calm.
At this mont, Wen Shiba was the sword, and the sword was Wen Shiba.
He was nearing the Martial Artist’s acclaid realm of “the unity of sword and man”—the ultimate swordsmanship realm.
And still, Ghost Hand’s face was etched with scorn, utterly unmoved by Wen Shiba.
In the eyes of Ghost Hand, Wen Shiba simply wasn’t an opponent worth his full effort.
The target of Ghost Hand was the only one at the scene with Profound Level High Rank strength, the contemporary Tower Master of Misty Rain Tower, Wen Xiangxin.
“In terms of fist and foot combat, I admit I’m no match for you, but now…
take out your weapon, let’s see who’s superior with our weapons!”
Wen Shiba’s fingers glided along the blade as if caressing his beloved woman, a rare gentleness appearing in his eyes.
A martial artist who uses a sword isn’t terrifying, but one who is obsessed with the sword is.
A sword fanatic might dedicate their entire life to the way of the sword, and such a person would definitely achieve incredible mastery in swordsmanship.
Seeing how Wen Shiba fondled his flexible sword, intoxicated and enraptured, it seed he was on the verge of becoming such a fanatic.
No wonder Qin Yaorao had made a point of ntioning the origin of the na “Wen Shiba”; it was because he had practiced the eighteen sword moves passed down in his family to perfection, making him extrely formidable.
Qin Ling, standing by, looked at Wen Shiba holding his sword, his expression grave and inwardly astonished.
He found that at this mont, Wen Shiba appeared to have rged with his sword, both exuding a sharpness like that of the blade’s edge, which made people dare not approach.
“This Wen Shiba really does have the capital for his arrogance.
If I were to face him, I wouldn’t be certain of victory either!”
Thinking this, Qin Ling couldn’t help but glance again at Fang Bai, standing beside his daughter, thinking that even if this young man was a genius with strength surpassing Wen Shiba, how could he, a Loose Cultivator, contend with Misty Rain Tower, teeming with talents and nurous experts?
This ti, he and his disciple had enraged Misty Rain Tower, and even if they could leave Qin Family Manor safely, they would face endless troubles in the future, possibly even endangering their lives.
The secular world has its laws, and the Ancient Martial World has its rules.
Misty Rain Tower and Fang Bai and his disciple were all Martial Artists; once a grievance arose between them, it had to be settled according to the rules of the Ancient Martial World, through combat, with no hard feelings over life or death.
Now, their battle wasn’t about resolving private grudges, but rather for the matter of Qin Yaorao’s marriage, and since it took place within the Qin Family Manor, it wouldn’t be a fight to the death.
But once they leave the gates of the Qin Family, all bets are off.
If the four from Misty Rain Tower and the Wen Family harbored deep hatred toward Fang Bai and his disciple, and wanted to quickly rid themselves of them, then it would be difficult for Fang Bai and his disciple to escape unscathed in a fight of four against two.
Although Qin Ling thought highly of Fang Bai and was inclined to help him, he dared not offend Misty Rain Tower and, with a sigh, also felt a great sense of regret.
Everyone present was watching the standoff between Ghost Hand and Wen Shiba, so with solemn faces, others tense, except for Fang Bai, who wore a light smile, as carefree as the wind.
“Do I even need a weapon to deal with you?
These fists of mine are more than enough!”
Ghost Hand raised his arms in front of his chest, forming fists, and proudly declared.
“Then I shall chop off those fists of yours!”
Wen Shiba’s pupils suddenly contracted, his formidable aura surging to the sky, and he thrust out the flexible sword in his hand at that mont.
Moving with his sword, he crossed the several ters to Ghost Hand in just one step, the flexible sword striking like a venomous snake, casting a phantom shadow, and darting toward Ghost Hand’s fists like lightning.
This thrust was swift, sharp, precise, embodying the essence of swordsmanship, and if Ghost Hand’s reaction was even slightly slow, he could kiss his fists goodbye.
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