Deathmatch

Yang An tensed his arms.

Under the pressure of his muscles, the wounds previously pierced by Wang Gou'er's zhenyuan stopped bleeding.

He took a deep breath, gripping his dagger tightly.

Without a word,

he charged fiercely toward Wang Gou'er. Seeing his reckless assault, Wang Gou'er's eyes burned with fury as he threw a punch straight at Yang An's face. "Still not activating your Divine Aspect? Do you really think you can defeat me without it? Just how arrogant are you, brat?"

Amidst the howling wind and Wang Gou'er's furious roar,

their fists collided with a thunderous impact.

The pale zhenyuan coiled around Wang Gou'er's enraged fist once again tore through Yang An's skin like sharp blades, flaying the flesh from his knuckles and exposing bone.

Excruciating pain surged through him,

as if knives were scraping his bones.

Yet Yang An's eyes remained utterly calm. Bracing against the pain, he channeled strength through his spine. Wang Gou'er, who had expected to easily repel him, found himself unable to budge Yang An this time—not only that, but his own fist ached as if it might split apart!

It was like punching solid steel with full force!

Wang Gou'er recoiled in pain,

staring at Yang An in disbelief.

This guy hadn't even activated his Divine Aspect—how could he possess such strength?

Yang An also stepped back a few paces.

Blood dripped from his fist as he glanced down at the exposed bone. Cold calculation flickered in his mind: "With the tenfold combat boost from the [Fate of Calamity] talent, even if Wang Gou'er activates his Divine Aspect, my physical strength and speed won't fall short."

"The only gap is in zhenyuan."

"Then it's simple. As long as I kill Wang Gou'er before his zhenyuan shreds me apart, I win!"

Tomorrow morning, he would die at Princess Anle's hands.

Yang An was already a "drowned ghost."

With no hope of survival, the only thing left was to eliminate all threats for his sister and brother-in-law—and drag the Wang Family's Money House down to hell with him!

Yang An cared nothing for his own life.

Shaking the blood from his hand, he lunged at Wang Gou'er again.

Despite activating his Divine Aspect, Wang Gou'er had been forced back by Yang An, fueling his rage. Refusing to accept defeat, he met Yang An's assault head-on.

Their battle raged like a storm.

Fists and shadows intertwined like a dense net, shattering tables and chairs in the hall, cracking the floor tiles, and splitting the walls!

Keke hid behind a pillar,

her small fists clenched tightly as she silently cheered for Yang An.

Zheng Huaiyi, who had just crawled out from under a wooden table,

was struck square in the face by a flying shard of stone. Blood streaming down his cheeks, he scrambled back under the table, trembling.

In the blink of an eye,

the two had exchanged thirty or forty blows.

Half of Yang An's clothes were in tatters, his chest, arms, and back riddled with ghastly wounds like those left by a rabid dog—flesh torn open, bones exposed.

Wang Gou'er wasn't faring much better.

He had taken several punches and slashes from Yang An, broken ribs, and lost a segment of his left pinky finger.

Panting heavily,

Wang Gou'er's gaze shifted from fury to astonishment and delight. A seasoned fighter, he had sensed something off about Yang An since their clash at the Yang residence.

But he hadn't been able to pinpoint it—until now.

After this prolonged, close-quarters battle, he finally understood.

His eyes burned with greed as he stared at Yang An.

"You fight purely with raw strength and speed—no technique at all. And even in a life-or-death struggle like this, you still refuse to activate your Divine Aspect."

"Yang family's second son... don't tell me you've never trained in martial arts!?"

Yang An remained silent, his expression icy.

Wang Gou'er's excitement exploded. "So it's true! Hahaha! No martial training, no Divine Aspect, yet you can go toe-to-toe with a martial artist who's awakened theirs! What an incredible treasure you must possess! I’m dying to know what kind of treasure is hidden on you!"

With that, he adjusted his dog-fur hat.

When he raised his head again,

his Divine Aspect had advanced further. Black fur from the hat spread across his face, his canine teeth lengthened, and his eyes gleamed with primal bloodlust.

The once-human features of Wang Gou'er

were now replaced by the snarling visage of a monstrous dog!

His grin stretched ear to ear.

"Finally! Fortune has smiled upon this Dog Lord! A mere commoner like you, wielding such a treasure, can rival a martial artist. Once it’s mine, I’ll reshape my martial path! Breaking through to the seventh rank won’t be a dream!"

"So now—DIE!"

The moment the words left his mouth,

Wang Gou'er moved faster than before. A cloud of dust erupted where he had stood as he vanished, reappearing mid-air behind Yang An, his nine-ringed broadsword raised high for a devastating slash!

Zhenyuan surged into the blade, extending into a three-inch edge of lethal energy!

The force of the descending blade whipped Yang An's hair wildly.

Zheng Huaiyi, his face still bloody, had crawled out from under the table again. Watching the scene, he shouted excitedly, "Dog Lord's signature move—Three Demon Dog Strikes! First strike: Demon Claw! He’s finally getting serious! That Yang brat is finished!"

Yang An hadn’t anticipated this move.

Sensing the terrifying zhenyuan radiating from the blade,

he didn’t attempt to block it. Instead, he relied on nimble footwork, darting to the left as the blade grazed his hair.

BOOM!

The impact shook the entire hall!

Keke, watching from the sidelines, fell onto her backside. Her face paled as she saw the slash carve a ten-foot-long fissure into the ground, spiderweb cracks spreading outward!

"Big brother, hold on! My lady will be here soon!"

Forced back once more,

Wang Gou'er was ecstatic.

Just as he suspected—Yang An hadn’t awakened a Divine Aspect and had no means to counter zhenyuan. His unnatural strength could only come from an extraordinary treasure.

Confirmed in his belief,

greed consumed Wang Gou'er as he pursued Yang An, swinging his blade again. "A treasure like this is wasted on trash like you!"

Another slash landed,

leaving a second ten-foot gash in the floor.

With his zhenyuan condensed into blade energy,

Wang Gou'er's destructive power was overwhelming.

Yang An had no means to counter it directly. He could only evade, relying on his dagger and reflexes.

BOOM!

BOOM!

Wang Gou'er's relentless strikes carved the floor into ribbons.

But the hall had limited space.

After repeated dodging, Yang An found himself cornered.

When Wang Gou'er missed yet again,

Yang An was already backed into a wall. Wang Gou'er grinned, raising his blade. "Run now, brat! Let’s see how you dodge this one!"

Gripping the hilt with both hands,

Wang Gou'er shifted his stance.

Instead of a straightforward slash,

he twisted his torso, channeling his zhenyuan through his hips to spin the nine-ringed broadsword in a whirlwind motion. A tempest of sand and stone erupted as the blade’s edge formed a spiraling cyclone!

The wind howled, slamming corpses against the walls.

Keke could barely keep her eyes open amidst the storm of shattered stones and dust, the surrounding roars resembling the growls of hunting hounds.

She forced her eyes open.

There, she saw Wang Gou'er spinning at an incredible speed, his blade sweeping horizontally toward Yang An's waist!

The second strike of the Demon Hound's Three Blades—Wind Tail!

Far deadlier than the first, its range wider! Anyone daring to block would be shredded by the razor-edged gales of condensed true essence!

Cornered between two walls, Yang An had nowhere to flee. The raging winds pinned him mercilessly against the stone.

No choice left.

Yang An could only pray that Princess Anle's dagger was sturdy enough. As Wang Gou'er's blade descended, Yang An braced the dagger against his forearm, meeting the strike head-on!

Clang!

A blinding spark flashed in the tempest!

Good—the dagger's material surpassed the crude sword, holding firm against Wang Gou'er's slash. But the impact wracked Yang An's arm, the hand gripping the dagger, and most of his body.

The gale-force power, laced with true essence, tore into him.

In an instant,

Yang An's organs twisted into knots. Blood gushed from his mouth. Not just his arm—half his skeleton felt on the verge of shattering.

His defensive stance collapsed.

The sheer force sent him airborne, smashing through the wall behind him, half his body embedded in the rubble!

Wang Gou'er laughed maniacally, swinging relentlessly.

Yang An was ground into the wall, carving a bloody groove as he was dragged in a full circle, leaving crimson trails on both surfaces!

Then, like a ragdoll,

he was hurled away!!

Crashing through wooden stools, slamming onto stone tiles cracked under his weight, Yang An collapsed beside the corpses of thugs. The wounds on his back—inflicted by the black eagle's talons when he plucked the Dark Jade Lotus—were now so mangled his bloodied spine peeked through!

But that wasn't all.

Though the dagger had shielded his front,

Wang Gou'er's ninth-grade blade, enhanced by gales and true essence, still carved an inch-deep gash across Yang An's abdomen. His padded clothes split, blood surging forth!

Fighting at tenfold strength for so long,

coupled with such grievous wounds,

Yang An's vision darkened. A deafening buzz filled his ears. Agony threatened to keep him down—but he couldn't stay down!

On the brink of unconsciousness,

he yanked a bloodied chunk of flesh from his robes, shoved it into his mouth, and swallowed it whole. Then, seizing a spear from a corpse, he used it to haul himself upright.

Seeing Yang An rise again,

Wang Gou'er, panting heavily, spat, "You damned trash—just like your sister and her worthless husband! Why won't you die already?!"

Wang Gou'er was past fifty.

Age had sapped his vigor, leaving him unable to summon his Divine Aspect unaided. Only by consuming Black Dog's Blood could he tap into it—but the boost was fleeting. After relentless strikes and true essence expenditure, he too neared his limit.

Gritting his teeth, he glared at Yang An.

"The blood's effect is fading."

"The backlash will be severe. No more delays—next strike ends this vermin!"

With that resolve,

Wang Gou'er licked the blood off his blade, emerald eyes gleaming with feral hunger—a starved beast eyeing its prey!

Whoosh!

Flames seemed to ignite.

White true essence billowed like fire, engulfing Wang Gou'er as he rested his nine-ringed broadsword on his forearm.

He assumed a thrusting stance,

aiming straight for Yang An's heart!

"That... that's the third strike of the Demon Hound's Three Blades! Demon Fang!" Zheng Huaiyi gasped, horrified. "It's been years since Dog Master last used this! The last time, he slaughtered two ninth-grade warriors single-handedly with it! For Yang An to die by this blade—it's an honor!!"

"You're lying! Big Brother won't die!"

Still believing Yang An had come to save her,

Keke, moved to tears by his blood-soaked defiance, struggled toward him.

But Zheng Huaiyi clamped down on her shoulder.

As she wailed, thrashing, "Let me go! If Big Brother dies, my lady will slaughter every last one of you!"

"By the time your lady arrives, she'll join him," Zheng Huaiyi sneered.

"Die!" Wang Gou'er roared.

True essence surged as he lunged like a demonic hound, his speed transforming him into a black streak crossing yards in an instant.

The blade's edge gleamed with lethal brilliance—

a fang of the abyss,

piercing straight for Yang An's heart!

Tearful, Keke couldn't bear to watch.

As she squeezed her eyes shut in prayer,

a miracle—

Yang An, drenched in blood and wounds, neither dodged nor defended.

Gripping the scavenged spear,

he stood his ground, waiting for Wang Gou'er's blade.

Surrendering? Impossible!

Yang An's bloodlust erupted, his eyes blazing crimson with murderous intent.

Kill Wang Gou'er!

Kill them all!

Even if it costs his life!!!

[Devil Sovereign: Grand Calamity]—activated.

Every ingested spirit treasure converted to power. The flesh he'd swallowed earlier? A black eagle's heart—the core of its lifeblood, its spiritual energy denser than three eagle eggs combined!

Tidal waves of strength erupted within him.

Yang An discarded the dagger.

Both hands clenched the spear shaft. He focused every ounce of power, muscles swelling until skin threatened to split—

yet he pushed further!

Betting everything on this single strike!

The instant Wang Gou'er's blade grazed his flesh,

Yang An, eyes blood-red, swung the spear downward with apocalyptic force!

No true essence!

No technique!

Just raw, unbridled violence!

The spear shaft warped under the strain, nearly snapping. Wang Gou'er, mid-thrust, sensed danger—as if he wasn't striking a man, but a mountain crashing onto him!

Both at their limits,

retreat meant death. Wang Gou'er bellowed, "A mountain? I'll cleave it in half! Die, Yang An!"

BOOM!

Spear met blade.

The collision unleashed a cataclysm—a deafening crash like mountains crumbling! Shockwaves blasted through the hall, scattering debris.

The ground beneath them shattered.

Tables and chairs launched into Zheng Huaiyi's face. Keke, hugging her jade flute, tumbled across the floor.

When the dust settled,

she scrambled up, frantically searching for Yang An.

At the epicenter,

Yang An's spear lay in splinters. The cloth wrapping his hands had exploded, his arms and torso a mangled, bloodied ruin—

yet he stood.

Wang Gou'er did not.

The man had been hurled backward, face drenched in blood from mouth and nose, his Divine Aspect vanished, his trademark dog-fur cap lost.

His sword-hand?

A grotesque ruin.

Several fingers were instantly shattered by the impact, and the muscles on his arms split open! Compounded by the backlash of the black dog blood's potency, his entire body withered as if drained of moisture, aging him by twenty or thirty years.

Lying on his back, he spat blood, his voice a hoarse roar directed at Yang An.

"Why?!"

"How could you possibly defeat me?!"

"You don’t even have a Divine Physique! How?! How did you win?!"

Yang An didn’t answer.

He discarded the broken spear in his hand, retrieved his dagger, and with his strength nearly spent, only one thought remained in his mind.

Kill him.

Sever his head.

Yang An staggered toward Wang Gou'er, each step unsteady, as if a mere gust of wind could knock him over.

Yet, in this frail, seemingly defenseless state—

To Wang Gou'er, he was more terrifying than Death itself! More horrifying than any demon or monster!

He stopped shouting.

His legs kicked frantically at the ground as he scrambled backward, desperate to escape.

But Yang An only drew closer.

As Yang An nearly closed the distance, Wang Gou'er finally cracked, screaming, "Zheng Huaiyi! What are you waiting for?! Act now! Do you want me dead?!"

Whoosh!

The sharp whistle of a weapon cut through the air from behind!

Yang An whirled around in alarm, but the gleaming spearhead was already upon him—knocking the dagger from his grip with brutal force!

The strike was swift and merciless.

The spear didn’t stop. In one fluid motion, it pierced through Yang An’s shoulder, the bloody tip protruding from his back as the impact drove him backward. With a thud, the spear pinned him against a pillar.

Zheng Huaiyi stood there, gripping a dark-green short spear, chuckling.

"Ah! My old eyes must be failing me! I meant to skewer Young Master Yang through the heart, but alas, I missed and hit your shoulder instead. No matter—you won’t live much longer anyway, isn’t that right?"

Blood dripped from the spear shaft, pooling beneath Yang An.

His lips stained red, Yang An recognized the white-haired old man.

Zheng Huaiyi—owner of the Huichun Apothecary.

It was Zheng Huaiyi who had conspired with Wang Gou'er, selling him counterfeit medicine, swindling him of two hundred taels of silver. Because of them, his brother-in-law Li Yan’s wounds had worsened, nearly costing him his legs.

When Yang An remained silent, Zheng Huaiyi twisted the spear.

Flesh tore.

Agony exploded from Yang An’s shoulder as fresh blood gushed out.

"Nothing to say, Young Master Yang?"

"Surprised that a mere apothecary is also a martial artist? And not just any martial artist—a ranked ninth-grade expert! Hehehe, I doubt you saw that coming. Even I wouldn’t have guessed!"

Zheng Huaiyi smirked triumphantly.

"Kill him now! This brat’s unnatural—don’t give him a chance to turn the tables!" Wang Gou'er rasped, still catching his breath.

"As you wish, Master Dog." Zheng Huaiyi prepared to strike.

Suddenly, Keke rushed forward, tiny fists clenched. "You monsters! Let go of Big Brother!" She pounded weakly against Zheng Huaiyi’s withered frame.

Her blows did nothing.

Zheng Huaiyi grinned at Yang An. "That pretty face of yours really works wonders, Young Master Yang. Even a little girl is willing to throw herself into danger for you. Truly enviable."

Smack!

Like swatting a fly, Zheng Huaiyi backhanded Keke across the face.

The eleven-year-old girl crumpled to the ground, her delicate features twisted in pain as she clutched her cheek, unable to rise.

Sobbing harder now, Keke clung to the jade flute in her arms, wailing, "Miss! Please come quickly! Keke promises never to talk back again! Keke hurts so much! If you don’t come, this kind Big Brother will die!"

With Keke dealt with, Zheng Huaiyi turned back to finish Yang An.

But in that split second of distraction—

Yang An gritted his teeth and lunged forward, forcing the spear deeper through his shoulder.

Blood and shredded flesh smeared the emerald shaft.

In a flash, he was upon Zheng Huaiyi!

The old man’s hair stood on end in terror!

Before he could react, Yang An’s teeth sank into Zheng Huaiyi’s throat—crushing his windpipe—then wrenched back, ripping out flesh and sinew in a spray of crimson!

His mouth dripped red, a vision of pure savagery.

"You—you’re not human!!!"

As if facing a wrathful deity, Zheng Huaiyi released the spear, hands clawing at his ruined throat. Blood gushed between his fingers as he staggered back, collapsing lifelessly.