Chapter 89: Crushing Defeat for the Enemy

“What a boast—the House of the Eastern King is not to be insulted. Aren’t you taking yourself a bit too seriously?” Chu Feng sneered, understanding now that this young man was also of the House of the Eastern King.

“When you’re dead, you’ll know whether this is worth taking seriously,” the youth replied coldly. In an instant, his spirit surged, and he threw a punch directly at Chu Feng.

Sensing the youth’s oppressive aura, Chu Feng quickly made a rough judgment: this man was likely a fifth-rank Earth Spirit Warrior, probably matching him in strength.

Spiritual energy flowed over the youth’s fist, carrying destructive force. Chu Feng clenched his own fist and met the attack head-on.

The two clashed, fist to fist, the resulting storm of energy nearly overturning Duan Liming and the others.

In that exchange, Chu Feng stood his ground without retreating a single step.

As for the silver-robed youth, though uninjured, he was forced back seven or eight steps before he halted, his right hand numb.

At that moment, the youth’s expression changed. Although he knew he had underestimated his opponent, he had never expected such overwhelming strength. The reality was hard to accept.

He had heard of the few strongest newcomers this year, particularly one who could not spirit-transform. The fact that this man had survived the spirit formation’s assault was already astonishing.

Now, it seemed this person had already surpassed the limits of that reputation.

Meanwhile, Duan Liming and the others watched with growing gloom, never expecting Chu Feng to be so powerful. Envy, jealousy, and resentment all welled up in their hearts.

“Impressive power. But today, your fate is sealed,” the youth said, his voice icy. From above his head, his fire spirit body erupted with surging spiritual force, unleashing formidable might.

His eyes blazed with jealousy. He had struggled for seven years in the Gen Camp to become a fifth-rank Earth Spirit Warrior—a notable achievement there. Yet his opponent had reached comparable strength in less than a year. He could not resign himself to this, his envy twisting into hatred.

Sweeping his arms, the youth performed a complex spirit technique, summoning his most potent spirit fire to incinerate his foe.

Chains of flame snaked outward, encircling Chu Feng to form a blazing cage. The fire roared, devouring grass and trees, reducing the surroundings to a sea of flames.

“Die!” the youth roared, clenching his hand into a fist. The flaming cage contracted, threatening to trap Chu Feng completely.

But Chu Feng struck out, shattering the tightening chains with sheer force.

The youth’s expression remained unchanged. He had never expected the fire chains to hold his opponent; even with a powerful body, could he really endure this spiritual fire?

Soon, the shattered chains reformed into a searing fireball, engulfing Chu Feng entirely. A dragon of flame writhed and roared in the inferno, seeking to consume him utterly.

The attack was fearsome. The heat forced Duan Liming and the others to summon their spirit bodies for protection, even at a hundred paces. Vegetation combusted from the intense temperature, quickly turning to ash.

Yet the youth did not stop, pouring more spiritual energy into the inferno, making it stronger, wilder.

Within the sea of fire, Chu Feng indeed felt the heat, but his body remained unscathed.

“Looks like I’ve wasted another pair of shoes,” he muttered to himself, eyes turning sharp. With a broad, sweeping motion, he unleashed a series of powerful punches, aiming to break all magic with brute strength.

The fire dragon wailed and was destroyed, the sea of flames scattered by overwhelming power.

Through the churning energy, Chu Feng forced his way out, heading straight for the youth.

The youth’s expression shifted at last; he realized that without overwhelming force, this opponent could not be destroyed.

Having witnessed his opponent’s physical might, the youth dared not meet him head-on. With a cold glint in his eye, he drew a spiritual weapon—a great black saber.

He had not expected his foe to be so formidable. In this critical moment, he could only use his trump card. As soon as he gripped the saber, flames surged from the blade, its pressure far outstripping his own.

A cruel smile spread on the youth’s face as he swung the blazing saber to meet the onrushing Chu Feng.

Chu Feng’s heart skipped a beat. Though this was his first time facing a spiritual weapon, he sensed the threat it posed.

But he did not retreat. He knew that if he pulled back now, with his opponent’s power elevated by the weapon, distance would only work against him. This battle would end with one man falling—so he drew the Domain Sword.

The closer he came to the youth, the more Chu Feng felt the saber’s power. Its pressure battered his body, making him distinctly uncomfortable.

The youth was astonished. Even with his spiritual weapon unleashed, his opponent could so easily push forward.

When a spiritual weapon was activated, its might far surpassed the wielder’s own. The youth, already close to mid-fifth rank Earth Spirit Warrior, could with this mid-grade Earth-level spiritual weapon easily defeat any similar opponent without a weapon, and even contend with late-fifth rank warriors.

Yet his opponent, unable to spirit-transform or shield himself with spiritual energy, pressed on unharmed. Was his body as strong as a spiritual weapon?

The youth almost laughed at the thought; bodies rivaling spiritual weapons existed, but only among the truly powerful. A Heaven Spirit Warrior’s body could match an Earth-level weapon, a Saint Spirit Warrior’s body could match a Heaven-level weapon—but he had never heard of an Earth Spirit Warrior with such strength, let alone one who could not spirit-transform.

But Chu Feng’s body was indeed comparable to a mid-grade Earth-level weapon. Though the saber’s pressure was great, it could not cause him real harm.

It all happened in an instant—their clash was over in a heartbeat.

Chu Feng unleashed a profound sword strike, colliding with the youth’s saber in a violent crash.

A storm of wild energy swallowed both figures. From afar, Duan Liming and the others could not see what was happening within.

Their hearts pounded anxiously. They hadn’t expected Chu Feng to force Duan Hen to reveal his strongest weapon.

Suddenly, from within the storm, a figure was hurled backward, spitting blood in a graceful arc.

“We’ve won!” Duan Liming and his group cheered, clearly seeing that it was Chu Feng who had been knocked flying.

Chu Feng landed so heavily that he shattered a boulder, steadied himself, and knelt on one knee, using the Domain Sword to support himself. Blood surged in his chest, making it difficult to stand; he glared coldly at the dissipating energy storm.

Moments later, the raging energy faded, revealing the youth in full view.

“How can this be?” Duan Liming cried out, terror written across his face. The rest were equally aghast.

It was a truth they found hard to accept. The youth stood motionless in the center of the battlefield, shock written on his contorted features—he himself could scarcely believe the outcome.

The saber in his hand was broken, half the blade buried in the earth at his feet. A terrible wound, a full foot long, slashed across his chest, nearly piercing his lungs.

A mid-grade Earth-level spiritual weapon, destroyed—anyone witnessing such a scene would be stunned.

In their brief exchange, Chu Feng had resolved to destroy his opponent’s weapon at all costs, knowing that failing to do so could spell disaster.

The youth had underestimated the sharpness of Chu Feng’s Domain Sword, and Chu Feng, a master of close combat, had chosen the perfect moment. When the two weapons collided, the saber was doomed to break.

Yet at that moment, the youth’s strength far surpassed Chu Feng’s, and Chu Feng could hardly withstand the wild energy unleashed—a force on par with a late-fifth rank Earth Spirit Warrior’s strike.

Thus, Chu Feng was sent flying. Only his powerful body and the protection of the Purple Iris Battle Robe spared him from serious internal injury. An ordinary early-fifth rank Earth Spirit Warrior, without a defensive spiritual weapon, might well have been killed.

The youth stared at the sword in Chu Feng’s hand, suddenly realizing his fatal mistake. If he had not tried to match the sword with his saber, relying instead on his power, he might have defeated his opponent, or at least not lost so quickly.

But now, it was too late. He had been defeated. That sword, though it spared his life, had left him utterly unable to continue.

Chu Feng calmed his surging blood, rose to his feet, and swept a cold gaze over the group, his eyes finally settling on the youth.

The youth sealed his wound with spiritual energy, face twisted, glaring at Chu Feng. “Why didn’t you kill me?”

He knew well that the blow to his chest could have cut him in two—yet his opponent had held back.

Chu Feng wiped the blood from his lips and sneered, “You should count yourself lucky to have powerful backers.”

At that, not only the youth but also Duan Liming and the others understood. Chu Feng was not afraid of them—he was wary of the House of the Eastern King.

And that was true. With a Saint Spirit Warrior overseeing it, the House of the Eastern King was not to be trifled with. For small conflicts, that elder would not intervene, but if Chu Feng killed one of their own, it would become a serious matter.

Chu Feng was shrewd; he knew he was still weak, isolated, and that making enemies of the House of the Eastern King would do him no good.

He added, “But since you all came for my life, simply letting you go would be far too easy.”

The youth’s heart sank. For all his usual arrogance, faced with death he felt fear. “What do you want?” he asked.

“If you want to live, hand over your storage pouches,” Chu Feng said coldly.

The five men looked sullen. None wanted to give up their storage pouches, but with their lives in Chu Feng’s hands, what choice did they have?

One by one, they surrendered their pouches to Chu Feng. He took them, not even sparing the youth’s broken saber, then waved his hand.

“You may go.”