Chapter Eighty-Three: The King Returns

The young man in the autumn shirt possessed a Wind-Song Sword Art that, though among the finest of the Azure City Sect, was still somewhat inferior in might to the Heart-Crushing Palm. Its strength lay instead in its countless transformations, making it nearly impossible to guard against.

“The first stroke: Sever the Man!”

Liu Huagang changed his blade technique. Before the knife had even fallen, its overwhelming force had already spread in all directions, and with a thunderous shout he slashed down with terrifying speed.

The young man in the autumn shirt felt as though he had been cast into some strange dimension, surrounded on all sides by blades of light, with nowhere to hide and no path of escape.

“The Wind-Song Sword Art’s Nine-Heaven Duel!”

With the same fierce cry, the gleaming sword in his hand flashed out a web of sword light to meet the attack.

With a ringing clang, the young man in the autumn shirt was forced back several steps before he barely managed to steady himself, while Liu Huagang remained unmoving. In the very next instant, Liu Huagang unleashed the second technique of his supreme blade art: “Sever the Ghost.”

This peerless blade art contained seven techniques in all, forged by distilling the essence of nine renowned sabre manuals. Each strike surpassed the last, and the seventh was especially unfathomable, its power greater than the first six combined.

The suited man also recognized the extraordinary nature of Sever the Ghost. He struck out repeatedly with both palms, the Heart-Crushing Palm surging forward in a vast and billowing tide of force. A wooden chair caught between the two men was hit by the overwhelming power like a torrent and instantly shattered to pieces.

Only after launching several palms did the suited man barely resolve the immediate crisis. But before he could even catch his breath, Liu Huagang’s third technique, “Sever the Demon,” came crashing in, its savage blade energy engulfing them both at once.

“The Wind-Song Sword Art’s Sweep Away the Nine Hells!”

“The Heart-Crushing Palm’s Split Heaven and Cleave Earth!”

The young man in the autumn shirt and the suited man exchanged a glance and simultaneously unleashed their strongest attacks. After a deafening blast, the three men stood motionless, as though nothing had happened at all. Only the blood at the corners of the mouths of the young man in the autumn shirt and the suited man proved that everything before had been real. Liu Huagang still radiated fierce momentum, though his internal energy had been heavily drained and his face was slightly pale.

Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, the young man in the autumn shirt asked, “What kind of blade art is this? Each strike is stronger than the last.”

Liu Huagang gave a cold laugh. “An unnamed blade art, with seven techniques in all, each one far stronger than the previous. What you have just seen is only the third, ‘Sever the Demon.’ Next, I will let you witness the fourth: ‘Sever the Saint.’”

As soon as the words fell, the long blade seemed to acquire a soul of its own. The sound of the blade shook the heart, the sheen of it seized the spirit, and in all the sky there seemed to be nothing left but a single knife. No matter which direction one looked from, the world had become one of blades.

The young man in the autumn shirt and the suited man gritted their teeth, their hearts filled with deep unwillingness. On the mainland they had each been considered formidable experts, yet upon arriving in Hong Kong, their very first battle had brought them face to face with such a terrifying opponent. Whether they could even withstand this strike remained uncertain.

“The Wind-Song Sword Art’s Ultimate Sword Judgment: Sword Devours the Firmament!”

“The Heart-Crushing Palm’s Shattering!”

The two men gathered all their power without reservation and unleashed their strongest techniques. Dense sword shadows and sky-covering palm shadows rushed to meet the blinding blade light. The collision detonated with a thunderous roar that made even the two groups fighting all around them pause in shock. On this day, they had witnessed true Chinese martial arts.

With another resounding crash, the long sword in the young man in the autumn shirt’s hand was sent flying. In the next instant, the sharp blade light left a shocking wound across his chest. The suited man fared no better. The long blade pierced straight through layers of palm force, chopped off all ten of his fingers, and still without losing momentum pressed into his chest before finally stopping.

The suited man stared at the blood gushing from his chest, unwilling and unable to believe it, his expression twisting in agony. With a heavy thud, he collapsed, his eyes still bulging wide open.

Blood flowed more and more from the young man in the autumn shirt’s chest, staining his garments red. His face twisted under the burden of immense pain, becoming almost ferocious.

“A marvelous blade art indeed, each strike stronger than the last. It is a pity I have no chance to see what dread power the remaining three techniques might hold.”

“Then may you see them in your next life,” Liu Huagang said coldly, glancing at the corpse of the young man in the autumn shirt. Toward his enemies he held not the slightest pity. Such was the martial world. The martial world in Hong Kong was even more perilous; from the first day one stepped into it, one should have anticipated this end.

The men of the Heng Hall stared dumbly at the scene before them, stunned by the formidable strength Liu Huagang had displayed.

“Who else among you dares come forward and fight me?” Liu Huagang pointed his long blade at them and slowly swept it across their faces. The nightclub, which moments ago had been filled with clamor, fell instantly silent.

With a bang, one of the Heng Hall members suddenly threw down his broadsword and shouted, “My God, he’s not human! I’ll never dare chop at anyone again!” Then he fled in panic.

Once the first man had led the way, others soon followed, dropping their weapons one after another and running for the door. Several of Heng Hall’s small-time leaders immediately shouted in unwilling fury, “Brothers, don’t be afraid! We outnumber him. Charge together and cut him down!”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, a flash of vicious blade light cut through the air. A spray of blood burst aloft, and the leader who had spoken opened his mouth as if to say more, only to find his strength draining away. He no longer had even the power to stand, and with a heavy crash he fell backward to the floor.

The remaining nearly hundred men of Heng Hall were horrified beyond measure. Not a single one dared rush forward. They all retreated at once, leaving only a wrecked battlefield behind them, proof of the bloody struggle that had just taken place here.

“Righteous Gate is invincible! Righteous Gate is invincible! Righteous Gate is invincible!”

In an instant, all the members of Righteous Gate’s Blood Hall burst into loud cheers, their hearts overflowing with pride and joy.

At that moment, a towering figure appeared before them, as if a mountain had stepped into the room, impossible to cross. Step by step, he strode forward.

The nightclub once again fell silent. This was a man whose name had stirred waves across all of Hong Kong in just a few days, and rumors had said he suffered misfortune on the mainland.

“Boss Cannon!”

Liu Huagang was the first to call out, his voice trembling with excitement. In the next instant, dozens of equally reverent and joyful voices followed.

The cold, bloodthirsty expression had already faded from his face, leaving only emotion. In that instant, the two men clasped each other’s right hands tightly. True brotherhood needed no words to describe it at such a moment.

After learning that Chen Erpao had safely returned, Wang Xing rushed over at once, still wearing the uniform of a security guard from Lingnan University. Their other identity as security staff was already no secret among the members, and many of the newer brothers even took pride in being able to work as guards at Lingnan.

Soon after, the Blond One and the Black-and-White Twin Fiends also arrived. After hearing of Chen Erpao’s experiences on the mainland, their expressions changed again and again. They admired his feat of annihilating a powerful mercenary corps by himself, mourned their dead brothers, and burned with fury at the sinister plot of Heaven Alliance and Heng Hall.

Wang Xing said angrily, “Now that we’ve officially started fighting Heng Hall, only the total destruction of one side or its withdrawal from Tuen Mun will end it. Since you’re back, we don’t need to keep passively defending and taking blows. It’s time they tasted the power of our Righteous Gate.”

“Exactly. Tonight the two of us will move out and kill a few senior figures from Heng Hall. If we can take out their hall master, Tian Yi, then so much the better. Consider it a gift from the two of us to our brothers as we enter Righteous Gate!” Black Fiend said with murderous intent, sealing Heng Hall’s fate as a night of terror without sleep.

“Good. When brothers unite, even metal can be cut in two. Who in the world can stand against us?” At this moment, Chen Erpao truly regarded himself as a man of the underworld. White or black—what did it matter? So long as one kept one’s true heart unchanged, what else could truly define black and white?

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Word count: 2300