Chapter Forty-Three: Power

A pungent stench of blood hung in the air. The wall, once partially collapsed, had now crumbled even further, the earth slick with a grotesque blend of white fat, bright red blood, and spilled viscera.

Though Liu Tian had seized the opportunity and instantly eliminated the true weak point and key attacker among the trio, the remaining two were far from useless. Their resilience, especially, far exceeded Liu Tian’s expectations. That hulking mountain of flesh was obviously a living shield, but even the muscular woman—dubbed the Queen of Protein—possessed defenses more robust than her appearance suggested. All the while, Liu Tian needed to keep an eye on the ordinary people nearby.

Even with the freshly acquired Monkey Sword at his side, Liu Tian still had to expend considerable effort to finally end the fight.

A wave of retching broke the silence, as if triggered by some signal. Many in the crowd behind him, their hands clamped over their mouths, ran aside to vomit. Perhaps it was the privileged upbringing most of the visitors shared; even though the carnage was not especially horrific by some standards, many could not suppress their rising nausea.

And in their eyes, a new emotion flickered—a fear, raw and primal.

It was fear of this man, who could crush them to nothing with a mere gesture. Fear of this man, who so brazenly wielded a power that far surpassed anything common.

“Young man, you have strayed from the righteous path.” Among the martial artists, an elder with an air of great authority frowned as he spoke. Experienced and knowledgeable, he possessed stronger endurance and self-control than most. Thus, even in this slaughterhouse, he remained composed, and even felt a rare sense of regret for wasted talent.

“With such conduct, you cannot earn respect from others. You must learn restraint, never let power intoxicate you.” The old man, known as Master Feng, who had not truly fought in nearly a decade, continued, “To master the martial way is to discipline the heart. Do not let overwhelming power dictate your actions; you must control it.”

“When the ease granted by strength becomes too obvious, when you become ever more addicted to its convenience, you will be enslaved by it, reduced to a puppet of brute force.”

A muffled thud echoed from not far away. Liu Tian, holding two Monkey Swords, frowned in confusion at the white-haired old man addressing him amid the battlefield. “Were you just lecturing me?”

“Young man, remember why you took up the martial path in the first place. Do not live only for martial arts and the pursuit of strength.”

“My reason for training was always to become stronger, to be the greatest under heaven,” Liu Tian retorted without hesitation. “Enslaved by strength? Ridiculous.”

“Strength is strength. When faced with a boulder blocking your path, the weak can only detour around it, but the strong can shatter it! True power revitalizes the soul, making it resilient and granting more choices.”

“With strength, at the crossroads of fate, you can seize destiny by the throat and force it to bend to your will. The weak can only kneel and wail in helplessness, and in the end, not even find the strength to cry.”

“Respect? Fear?” Liu Tian suddenly stomped hard on the ground, sending a web of cracks shooting outward. “Even those who claim to respect you will throw mud when interests collide, but those who truly fear you would never dare defy your will.”

“The enemies have been dealt with. Now protect them well,” Liu Tian shifted the subject, refusing to waste time debating. “I expect not a single hair on their heads to be missing when I return. Otherwise, I’ll be very angry.”

…

Elsewhere, the battle had become utterly one-sided.

Despite being well-prepared and having the home advantage, Liu Zhengde commanded an impressive arsenal—handguns, rifles, submachine guns, even a rocket launcher, and a machine gun now long since emptied. This overwhelming preparation exceeded even Edward’s expectations, allowing Liu Zhengde to dominate the field singlehandedly.

But within mere minutes, the rocket launcher was exhausted, the machine gun reduced to useless scrap, and as the lull set in, the battle entered its true, blade-to-blade stage.

Though the martial artists remaining were all renowned veterans and superior in number, they could not contend with the combined strength of Tiger, Ox, and Snake. Their attacks, honed by hard training, barely tickled the trio, whose bodies had been transformed by advanced genetic modification. By contrast, a single blow from any of the three was enough to shatter bones and snap sinews.

Fortunately, Tiger and Ox seemed to be plotting something, holding back their full strength and staying on the fringes. Liu Zhengde, bolstered by his home-field advantage, managed to suppress Edward and provide occasional support, otherwise the fight would have been lost already.

But how much longer could this last?

The army was already on its way…

As time dragged on and the tumult on the other front faded, Edward—who had been exchanging fire with Liu Zhengde from dozens of meters away—could no longer contain himself. “That must be over by now. Tiger, Ox, stop wasting time. After this is done, you may settle your scores as you wish. Snake, isn’t it Liu Tian you want? He’s right behind us.”

“Liu Tian is behind us?” At those words, Snake—who had been suppressing five martial artists alone—erupted with even greater power. His body crackled as joints stretched and separated, his frame remaining the same width but lengthening to nearly three times its original size, terrifying as a true giant python.

Demon Martial—Kabul Giant Serpent Technique—Ultimate State: Deep Stain!

This was Snake’s trump card, the culmination of secret martial arts and genetic engineering, proof that he had surpassed his brothers, his master—even the founder and all successors of the art.

“Normally, weaklings like you, trash, have no right to witness this state,” Snake hissed, his tongue flickering, body pressed low to the ground, murderous aura so dense it seemed to grip every throat. “But I’m pressed for time, so consider yourselves lucky—to die by my hand, at the pinnacle of the Kabul Giant Serpent Technique, a state no practitioner before me has ever reached.”

“Monster… monster!” Never had they imagined martial arts could reach such a level. The martial artists, who once believed themselves to have attained the pinnacle, were so stunned they forgot they were on a battlefield.

And so, their fates were sealed in an instant.

Without the sadistic pleasure of savoring their terror, a piercing explosion split the air. Using a whip-like motion, Snake hurled himself forward.

This was an attack at the speed of sound.

In a heartbeat, all the martial artists within Snake’s range seemed to be struck by an explosion. Bodies shattered, blood and viscera flying in clouds, the air itself dyed red.

One strike—seven kills!

Not only the five who had been besieging him, but, thanks to his greatly expanded reach, two others who had been fighting Tiger and Ox were also caught up and annihilated instantly, without a chance to resist.