Chapter Fifty-Eight: Fierce Battle! (Vote for Recommendation!)

"You may withdraw now," Qin Feng said calmly, coughing twice. "Remember to stay away from the Weiyuan Escort Agency, lest you get caught up in the aftermath of the battle."

"Xiao Feng, come with me and leave Xuanzhou City at once!" Chen Xuanhao burst in from outside, grabbing Qin Feng and trying to drag him away.

"Uncle Chen, why are you here?" Qin Feng’s eyes widened in surprise. Dissatisfaction with Liu Qingchang’s competence crept into his heart. He had sent his family, the brothers from the Weiyuan Escort Agency, and the men from Xuanhai Martial Hall to Heifeng Stronghold, ordering Liu Qingchang to guard them closely. Yet now, Chen Xuanhao stood before him.

"Xiao Feng, how could you be so reckless? A late-stage Warrior is two whole ranks above you. We should avoid his edge, wait for you to break through to the late stage, and then face him." Chen Xuanhao urged anxiously.

"Greetings, Young Master Qin." Liu Qingchang hurried in, dropping to one knee in shame. "Young Master, I failed in my duties and await your punishment."

He had been assigned to protect the Qin family, Xuanhai Martial Hall, and the Weiyuan Escort Agency, not permitting anyone to leave the mountain. When Chen Xuanhao fell into a coma, the surveillance on him grew lax. Who would have thought that this slackness would lead to disaster? Chen Xuanhao regained consciousness, learned of Qin Feng’s predicament, and schemed his escape from Heifeng Stronghold. Upon hearing this, Liu Qingchang’s expression changed, and he rushed to Xuanzhou City.

"Xiao Feng, do not blame Commander Liu—it was I who found the opportunity and slipped away," Chen Xuanhao said apologetically to Liu Qingchang, quickly recounting his escape to Qin Feng.

"I hope there will be no next time. And remember—never underestimate anyone, or you’ll die without even knowing how," Qin Feng warned coldly.

"Your subordinate will remember your teaching," Liu Qingchang replied respectfully, relieved, his fists clasped before him.

A sharp pain twisted in Qin Feng’s chest. He coughed violently, crimson blood trickling from his lips.

"Master Qin?"

"Xiao Feng, you’re injured? Young Master Qin, are you..." Yan Chonghu, Chen Xuanhao, and Liu Qingchang were startled by the sight of blood, their voices urgent.

"Xiao Feng, withdraw from Xuanzhou City at once. Avoid the confrontation—endure for now, and peace will return," Chen Xuanhao pleaded.

"None of you will leave!" A cold, powerful voice cut through the air as the figure of Ancestor Qinghe—Xue Hongwei—appeared atop the roof and leapt down.

"A fifteen-year-old Warrior at your stage—‘heaven’s favored child’ is no exaggeration," Ancestor Qinghe said, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze filled with admiration and praise. "If you hadn’t killed Yun Qing, I would have done everything to take you as my disciple. But you shouldn’t have slain him. He was my dearest pupil. I must kill you, or my hatred will never be quenched." His face darkened with regret, his tone icy.

"Yan Chonghu, Liu Qingchang, take Uncle Chen and fall back," Qin Feng ordered with a wave of his hand.

"Master Qin, be careful," Yan Chonghu and Liu Qingchang replied. They knew their presence would only distract him, so they quickly retreated with Chen Xuanhao.

"There is, in fact, another way to rid you of your hatred," Qin Feng declared as he strode into the courtyard. His will was unyielding, unfazed by the pain wracking his body. He approached the two colossal Sky-Shattering Hammers resting in the yard, gripped them, and flashed a confident smile at Ancestor Qinghe.

"Oh? You have another method?" Ancestor Qinghe’s expression flickered with intrigue.

Xue Hongwei, black spear slung across his back, watched Qin Feng with curiosity.

"If I kill you, then dust will return to dust, earth to earth, and your hatred will vanish like smoke," Qin Feng replied, hefting the Sky-Shattering Hammers as he advanced on Ancestor Qinghe and Xue Hongwei.

"Courting death!" Ancestor Qinghe’s face went cold. He drew a pair of gloves from his robe—neither gold nor silver, forged from a rare piece of Dark Yin Iron, flexible yet impervious to blades and spears.

With a thunderous leap, Ancestor Qinghe charged Qin Feng, unleashing eighty thousand jin of brute force in a single punch.

Years of seclusion had pushed his strength beyond the late-stage Warrior, to a terrifying eighty thousand jin.

"Seeking your own doom!" Qin Feng sneered. To charge him head-on was the height of folly.

"Ha!" Qin Feng roared. One hundred twenty thousand jin of monstrous strength exploded from within him, and he swung both hammers forward.

Each Sky-Shattering Hammer measured two meters long, one meter wide, and one meter high—together, they crashed down like twin mountains.

The collision resounded as Ancestor Qinghe’s fist struck the hammers. He was jolted backward, a sweet taste rising in his throat as he forced down the blood.

"Your strength..." Ancestor Qinghe’s eyes widened in shock. He had broken the late-stage barrier, his inner strength surging to eighty thousand jin—a formidable force indeed. Yet, one blow from Qin Feng sent him reeling. He could not fathom the depths of Qin Feng’s power.

"Come, let me send you on your way—dust to dust, earth to earth!" Qin Feng bellowed, hammers in hand, lunging fiercely at Ancestor Qinghe.

Though he had never studied any hammer techniques, his sheer strength was overwhelming—brute force could shatter all arts.

Ancestor Qinghe, witnessing Qin Feng’s might, dared not contest him in strength. The hammers’ sweep was too vast to evade completely. Twice he was struck, bones cracking as if his body would shatter. Were it not for the resilience of a Warrior’s frame, he would already have been reduced to pulp.

"Is this... Is he truly a late-stage Warrior?" Yan Chonghu and Liu Qingchang stared in disbelief as Qin Feng brutalized Ancestor Qinghe.

Xue Hongwei stood frozen nearby, stunned. The master he once believed invincible was now being beaten—utterly unable to resist.

"Hongwei, seize them! Otherwise, neither of us will get out alive!" Ancestor Qinghe spat blood, his body racked with injury, and roared in fury.

At his master’s command, Xue Hongwei snapped back to his senses, seized the black spear from his back, and charged swiftly at Liu Qingchang, Yan Chonghu, and Chen Xuanhao.