Apotheosis Begins with Tai Chi

"You... this is... the Peak of Three Bloods!? Last night, when we slaughtered that ’pig’... you... you didn’t go all out!? No wonder... No wonder you managed to escape..."

Liu the Crooked’s Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, his gaze trembled, and his shoulders clearly slumped.

All his confidence and courage evaporated in an instant.

"Lord Xiong, you’re the boss now... Whatever you say, goes. I’ll... I’ll be on my way..."

Liu the Crooked’s voice was squeezed from his throat, trembling noticeably.

"Get out!"

Xing Xiong let out a low growl.

Liu the Crooked didn’t dare waste another word. He turned sideways, pressing his back against the courtyard wall, and shuffled inch by inch toward the gate. His eyes were glued to Xing Xiong, and only after confirming he wasn’t making a move did he quickly open the gate, slip out, and pull it shut behind him.

"Ugh..."

Xing Xiong listened until the sound of frantic footsteps outside had completely faded into the distance. Only then did a pained groan escape his throat, which he could no longer suppress.

His Blood Qi receded, and his muscles went slack.

He collapsed as if his bones had been removed, slumping to the ground and gasping for breath.

Only then did the dim yellow light from inside the house truly fall upon his face.

The fierce and domineering aura from just moments ago was gone, replaced by a rapidly deteriorating complexion and an ever-deepening pain and weakness.

He and Liu the Crooked had taken a Dark Saber mission from Fuchang Trading Company. Although the pay was generous, they had run into a Dark Force expert during the operation last night.

He and Liu the Crooked were immediately separated and fled for their lives, but the Dark Force expert had stubbornly latched onto him, Xing Xiong, refusing to let go.

In the end, he was lucky to escape, but not before taking a heavy blow.

A Dark Force injury damages the inside; nothing could be seen on the surface. When he met up with Liu the Crooked afterward, it went unnoticed.

But tonight, when it came to the crucial moment of splitting the loot, it was a different story.

They were both ruthless bandits who preyed on others; they knew each other’s nature all too well.

A few days ago, when they had just gotten the Silver Notes and were eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling together, they could act as close as blood brothers.

But once it came down to this final, most important share of the profit, they could turn on each other in an instant.

As for the righteous brotherhood of Green Forest heroes? That was just a fantasy found in storybooks.

The true Green Forest Dao was nothing but dog-eat-dog.

Xing Xiong knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he showed the slightest weakness or made any concession, he wouldn’t see the night through.

Killing the man, establishing his dominance, and forcing himself to his peak state at the risk of worsening his internal injuries...

It was all a bluff, an act Xing Xiong put on for the sake of self-preservation.

Fortunately, he had always hidden some of his strength. Revealing his trump card—the Peak of Three Pillars of Blood Qi—had completely exceeded Liu the Crooked’s expectations.

Fear stems from the unknown. Liu the Crooked couldn’t gauge his true depth, so fleeing was the best option.

"Thank goodness... Thank goodness..."

Xing Xiong leaned against the earthen wall, his eyes filled with the relief of having survived a close call. But the injuries inside his body had indeed worsened considerably.

His chest heaved more violently. With every breath, a gurgling rattle sounded from his throat, and the coppery-sweet taste of blood filled his mouth and nose.

「The night grew deeper.」

The wick of the oil lamp inside had been burning for a long time. Its flame sputtered, casting a dim, yellow light that threw Xing Xiong’s shadow onto the opposite wall, making it sway back and forth.

Xing Xiong rested for a moment.

He closed his eyes and silently regulated his breathing, circulating his Blood Qi. Strands of its vital essence coursed through his body, flowing bit by bit toward his wounds.

’The pain was intense, but that was a good thing.’

’He had seen too many dead men. Pain meant he was still alive.’

There was no wind tonight. The surroundings were deathly still, making the faint crackle of the burning lamp wick exceptionally clear.

Suddenly, Xing Xiong felt something flicker across his eyelids.

It was like the shadow of a single dry leaf, drifting down on the wind, brushing past his eyelids—extremely light, extremely slow.

He didn’t open his eyes and continued to regulate his breathing.

’Something’s wrong!’

’There was no wind just now!’

His heart clenched violently, and his heartbeat skipped.

His eyes snapped open.

And there, on the earthen wall opposite him, a human shadow had appeared out of nowhere.

"Who’s there!?"

Xing Xiong whipped his head around, the hairs on his neck standing on end. Reflected in his rapidly constricting pupils was a hand, fingers held together like a drill, growing larger as it bored straight toward his temple.

"SHK!"

Xing Xiong’s reaction was lightning-fast. He jerked his head aside to dodge, but he was ultimately a step behind, a breath too slow.

His right cheek was grazed by the spearhand. The skin was torn open, hanging from his cheekbone to the corner of his mouth. His cheekbone was scraped as well, and an abnormal, penetrating Power instantly sent fractures spiderwebbing through the bone.

Excruciating pain lanced through him as blood sprayed everywhere.

Xing Xiong was dizzy from the pain, and his vision was covered by a film of blood, turning red and distorted.

But all of that was nothing.

What filled Xing Xiong with ultimate terror was the jet-black iron spike clamped between the fingers of that awl-like hand.

At that moment, the iron spike was lodged in the cracks of the bone, not yet withdrawn by the attacker.

And the searing pain in Xing Xiong’s cheek was being washed away by a spreading sense of weakness and numbness...

’It’s a Poisonous Thorn!’

That was it!

The ambusher was none other than Chen Cheng. Xing Xiong couldn’t see him clearly at the moment and didn’t recognize him at all.

But that Poisonous Thorn... Xing Xiong recognized it immediately.

"Old Zou’s Water-Splitting Needle! You killed him! You... Who the hell are you!?"

Xing Xiong roared hoarsely.

But Chen Cheng didn’t waste a single word and attacked again.

If it were an ordinary person, they would have completely lost their composure in this situation and died at Chen Cheng’s hands many times over.

But Xing Xiong was different.

He had survived famines where corpses littered the fields; he had established himself in the man-eating, blood-drinking Green Forest Dao...

He had never relied on luck, but on strength, and on a ferocity that grew more pure and extreme the more desperate his situation became—a savagery nearing that of a primal beast.

The next instant, relying only on his blurred vision and years of life-or-death combat experience, Xing Xiong instantly steadied his Heart Spirit and began to counter.

He turned his side, twisted his waist, and swung his left arm out—not to block, but to counterattack, his fingers raking toward Chen Cheng’s throat like an iron hook.

Xing Xiong’s Blood Qi had been refined to the Peak of the Three Pillars. Even weighed down by his injuries, his speed and strength were in no way inferior to Chen Cheng’s.

Chen Cheng clearly saw this as well. Unwilling to trade injuries, he decisively withdrew his hand, changed his move, and dodged Xing Xiong’s iron-claw counter, repositioning himself to find another opening.

Xing Xiong’s left arm swung through empty air, but instead of revealing an opening, he used the momentum, cleverly generating force from his stance. His burly frame twisted and rose, and with arms spread wide, he pounced toward Chen Cheng.

His blood-caked eyes narrowed to slits, able to vaguely make out that his opponent was a shabbily dressed commoner.

’Good...’

’As long as it’s not that Dark Force expert from last night, I still have a chance...’

Xing Xiong felt a flicker of relief, and his forward pounce became even more reckless. His left claw swept toward his opponent’s throat while his right claw sank slightly to gather power, unleashing his Bright Force to its limit as he struck at Chen Cheng’s heart from an exceptionally vicious angle.

Unflustered, Chen Cheng shifted his body slightly. Using a Harmonious Step Technique that Xing Xiong had never even heard of, he altered his stance, and with a twist of his waist, effortlessly moved his vitals out of the path of Xing Xiong’s ferocious attack.

Xing Xiong followed the momentum, twisting his waist and spinning like a top. He whipped out his right elbow. Chen Cheng leaned his upper body back, the tip of the elbow grazing his temple and shearing off a few strands of hair.

’Seeing the strands of hair drift down, Chen Cheng’s heart couldn’t help but sink. This Xing Xiong is a monster!’

’His internal and external injuries are both extremely severe, and he’s been poisoned...’

’That Poisonous Thorn, when it pricked Zhao Hai, had immobilized him in just two or three breaths.’

’Yet now, Xing Xiong’s attacks can still be so sharp and deadly. That last elbow strike—if it had been an ordinary Three Pillar Blood Qi Martial Artist, their head would have already exploded.’

"Who the hell are you!?"

Xing Xiong’s attacks were relentless, each one fatal, but the astonishment in his heart was no less than Chen Cheng’s.

His vision cleared slightly, and Xing Xiong could now vaguely make out that his opponent was a young man.

’Such a young age, yet his Blood Qi fluctuations are abnormally dense and stable. His experience and adaptability in real combat are outstanding.’

’After fighting at such high intensity in close quarters for this long, he, Xing Xiong, hasn’t even managed to touch the corner of the youth’s clothes. Such veteran cunning, so inconsistent with his age—Xing Xiong felt he had never seen its like in his entire life.’

’I can’t drag this out any longer!’

"HSSS... HRAAAGH—!!"

Xing Xiong let out an explosive roar. The muscles in his arms bulged to their absolute limit, and his ten fingers glowed with a dark red luster. He put all his remaining strength into a Double Dragon Piercing the Moon, a move where feint and reality intertwined, aimed straight at Chen Cheng’s heart.

Faced with this sudden, short-range attack—arguably the strongest blow Xing Xiong could muster in his current state—Chen Cheng showed no fear or panic. Instead, the corners of his mouth curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

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