Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"Thump—!!"

"Thump—!!"

"Thump—!!"

"Thump—!!"

……

It's hard to imagine that just a second ago he was cornered, but with a single kick, he completely turned the tide. Zhang Renfeng was already on guard, but the penetration, power, accuracy, and speed of that kick all exceeded his expectations. He didn't even see clearly how Lu Aniu got there, only catching a glimpse of his fleeting shadow.

Logically speaking, it would be quite difficult for such a massive body to dissipate energy.

But at this point, Zhang Renfeng was no longer bound by the definition of perfect force dissipation. He was like a bouncy pinball, bouncing high into the air each time he landed, thus dissipating some of the force of the impact.

Anyway, this originally flawless and smooth road surface has already been smashed beyond recognition, so adding a few more potholes won't make a difference.

After smashing out more than a dozen craters, the force dissipated and it finally stopped.

Zhang Renfeng sighed helplessly, wiping his lips, which were also a striking crimson, and he even felt a little dizzy.

"What... your three strongest enemies aren't even in this era... screw it all..." Recalling Angel Eyes' prophecy on the train, Zhang Renfeng finally couldn't help but curse, "This one's already like this, what other demons and monsters are waiting for me in the future!"

Despite his complaints, he dusted himself off and tried to stand up. At the same time, he sorted through the information he had just received—or rather, the information that someone had revealed themselves—and finally pieced together a plausible narrative.

Why does Lu Aniu always refer to himself as "Old Man"?

Why did America only take in godchildren and goddaughters and teach them martial arts, but never leave behind any real offspring?

Why did he have such a morbid obsession with the Rama Kung Fu for restoring life and filling in the gaps? Why was he even willing to turn against his master for it?

If he was a eunuch, then many details would make sense.

Physiologically speaking, he could not have any offspring. Adopting godson or goddaughter was a common practice among eunuchs in the court.

Throughout history, some dynasties heavily relied on eunuchs, granting them immense power and even allowing them to control the government, producing many famous eunuchs. Those addressed as "Grand Ancestor" or "Nine Thousand Years Old" were commonplace, meaning their relatives were practically reaching the great-grandchild generation.

Lu Aniu happened to be a eunuch who was quite capable in combat.

"So, this martial art...could it be..." Zhang Renfeng suddenly realized something, and he gasped, muttering, "The Sunflower Manual?!"

"Hahaha!!!"

Lu Aniu stood beside him, bursting into laughter, and said in an extremely shrill voice, "No wonder he was the top martial arts scholar during the Guangxu era..."

"You really know your stuff!"

"?!" Zhang Renfeng suddenly turned his head, only to be met with a heavy punch that was so fast that it was hard to see clearly.

He could only barely raise his arm to protect his chest.

"boom------!!!"

The power of a single punch can split mountains and shatter rocks!

Zhang Renfeng felt as if he had been hit head-on by a train running at full speed. The force of the impact sent his body flying. The walls, bricks, the ground... everything in the city seemed like it was made of foam, flashy but impractical, crumbling at the slightest touch.

If even someone in this state could feel strained, one can imagine just how powerful that punch must have been.

His stance was extremely stable, but his legs bore the brunt of the force, almost sinking into the ground. His fine shoes were worn through at the heels. Finally managing to stop, Zhang Renfeng's expression changed slightly; he clutched his abdomen and coughed up blood.

Lu Aniu doesn't know the art of silk reeling.

However, the martial arts of the Sunflower Manual were too strange, seemingly the result of two people working together. They actually pierced through his defenses with a single blow, penetrating deep into his internal organs. Zhang Renfeng quickly wiped away the blood and used the Rama Technique to repair the damage, all the while he was extremely anxious.

broken.

I thought that mastering the Lesser Formless Skill would give me a royal flush, but I never expected that my opponent's last few cards would also form a bomb, and a bomb that was almost fatal!

It is often said that there is no first place in literature, but there is no second place in martial arts. This is true, but it has also fostered a culture in the martial arts world that prioritizes seniority over skill level.

Some profound and exquisite martial arts, which most people may never even reach the basics of even after a lifetime of practice, are still regarded as divine. On the other hand, some external martial arts, such as fist and palm techniques, are easily looked down upon and regarded as mere peasant skills.

Zhang Renfeng thought otherwise.

The essence of martial arts lies not only in the martial arts themselves, but also in the practitioner.

Everyone is a unique individual, and the suitability of each person's physique for practicing this martial art varies greatly. For example, forcing Zhu Kuilong to practice hard qigong might be counterproductive. Conversely, someone with Zhang Renfeng's physique, while achieving some success in learning the Wild Goose Kung Fu, would become timid and hesitant, thus losing his advantages.

Zhang Renfeng couldn't think of any martial arts technique more suitable for Lu Aniu than the Sunflower Manual.

In a sense, this technique seemed to have been created just for him.

Even someone of mediocre talent, if they are willing to sacrifice a part of their body, harden their heart, and undergo a surgical procedure, can, after cultivation, reach a high level and spar with martial arts masters. It's like making a deal with the devil, permanently sacrificing a part of your "function" as a human being in exchange for greater power.

Even the mediocre are like this.

So, Lu Aniu, with his exceptional talent, profound inner strength, and mastery of external martial arts, possessing over thirty powerful internal martial arts techniques as his foundation...

What would it be like to learn the "Sunflower Manual"?

----

"boom------!!!"

Lu Aniu suddenly waved his hand, tearing open the brick wall. Earth and stones rained down on him, but he was completely unaware and strode in.

Each step he took was like a landslide, his eyes were bloodshot, his silver hair was flying, and his mouth was stretched into a terrifying, extremely wide smile.

Under this cataclysmic force, his sharp, piercing voice not only did not seem comical, but became even more terrifying.

"In the second year of the Shunzhi reign, a great flood occurred in Jiangnan, and my whole family was submerged. During the escape, my mother was swept away by the flood, and I didn't even have time to take a look at her before I had to keep running!"

"On the way of fleeing, there was nothing at all... Even if a cicada fell to the ground, I could suck a shred of flesh out of it. I was so hungry, so very hungry, I ate dirt, tree bark, grass roots, anything and everything, and barely managed to survive..."

"For a few coins, my father... sold me to the government officials, and they made me a eunuch in the palace!"

"That cut...it hurt...I don't remember how much it hurt, it just hurt so much...You just asked me why?"

"I'll tell you now..."

"That's my own father, my own father! What? He sold his own son for a few coins... Anyone can betray me! Anyone can betray me?! Only silver, only copper coins, only banknotes, they will not betray me!"

Lu Aniu pulled out a few cents from his tattered pocket and shrieked, "When I can no longer lift a finger or carry anything... who will I rely on?! Who will be my closest relative?!"

"I only have...I only have these!"

“Boom——!!!!”

Bend your fingers and snap them!

The coin transformed into a blur, heading straight for Zhang Renfeng's head!

Chapter 860: Seppuku with a short sword, long sword returned to the second.

"noodle--!"

"Snapped!!"

The wooden sword came crashing down, striking Ren squarely on the head. Although his father had held back, preventing him from passing out immediately, it was enough to make him see stars. Back then, dojos didn't offer any protective gear; a blow to the head was a real, solid strike. Even his own father wouldn't hesitate to strike when necessary.

Ren was knocked to the ground and instinctively let go of the wooden sword. The sword slipped from his hand and immediately struck his arm hard again.

"Tong—!!" the father shouted, drawing out the words. "Never let your weapon out of your hand! As long as you have your weapon, the enemy hasn't completely defeated you. Even if you have to bite, you have to hold the knife in your jaws!"

"This...it's just not fair..." Ren grumbled, clutching his arm that had been hit repeatedly, but still picked up the wooden sword, looked at the man in front of him, and managed to put on a shabby stance that crumbled at the first touch. "You're a grown man, and I'm only twelve. You're big, so you're strong. No matter how much I swing my sword, I can't shake your stance!"

“Ren,” the father said calmly, “do you really want to become a samurai?”

"Yes!" Ren answered without hesitation.

"If one day you have a real sword at your waist and you fight someone who is superior to you in physique, strength, skill, and everything else... don't look at me like that. If you really intend to be a samurai, then this is almost certain to happen, it's just a matter of time."

"At that time, would others let you off the hook because of these objective reasons?"

"..."

Although Ren was still young and not particularly bright, the answer quickly came to him.

"Father, what should we do in this situation?"

"Heh, you haven't even learned to walk yet, and you already want to learn to jump and run. You've got quite the ambition." The father chuckled, took a few steps, twirled the wooden sword in his hand, and said in a deep voice, "Strength, speed, precision—in the world of swordsmanship, these are everything. The one with the stronger overall qualities will usually be able to defeat the weaker one."

"To achieve victory against all odds, we must find a way to seize that extremely short window of opportunity."

"Window... period?" Ren only half understood.

"No matter how strong you are, how experienced you are, or how skilled you are in swordsmanship, your opponent is still a human. Humans make mistakes and slip up. You just need to capitalize on their mistakes. It's that simple."

"This doesn't sound simple at all," Ren muttered. "If he's already an expert, how could he make such a mistake?"

……

His father looked at him and gave him a meaningful smile.

"Well..."

"It all depends on how you choose to proceed."

----

Ren had been gone for a long time, but he admired his father more and more. So long ago, his father had found such precise words.

Choices.

Yes, it's about making choices.

How can the weak possibly overthrow the strong without making any sacrifices?!

……

"when!"

A standard lunge forward, blades clashing, sent Ren staggering back several steps. His stance was increasingly faltering; he blinked frequently, his facial expression was extremely tense, and he occasionally twitched.

Grass-dwelling Karimasa had killed countless people, so he was all too familiar with this expression—the expression of someone seeing death.

Samurai who have reached this stage in their fighting have often realized the true value of the title "Sword God." The gap between them and themselves is insurmountable. Death is already beckoning them; every move feels like playing a game with Him. Perhaps, in the next move, or the one after that... a flash of light, and a head falls to the ground.

"Ten moves... no, five moves. It should be over in less than five moves."

He certainly couldn't let Ren die; that would make the job less than it was done. He had to make the person who feared the War Demon personally plunge the knife into his heart before he could finally put an end to this matter.

"when!"

"when!"

"when!"

After three consecutive slashing blows, Ren was already showing signs of defeat, retreating repeatedly until he was finally cornered. He gritted his teeth, adopting the desperate, last-ditch effort of a gambler before losing everything. He lunged forward, thrusting his knife forward!

"Ding--!!"

Their figures passed each other in an instant.

His back was completely exposed to the sight of the grass hut, leaving him wide open. For a swordsman, there could be no better opportunity.

"laugh!!"

A cold light pierced his back. In order to save Jin's life, Kusaya Kari Masaru did not stab him in the heart, but instead stabbed him in the right kidney.

The blade sank steadily into it.

"Hmph, what 'war demon'? Nothing special." — Kasaya Kari wanted to finish with this sarcastic remark, but the moment he opened his mouth, the trembling of his lips startled even himself. His tongue seemed to freeze, stuck in his mouth, unable to utter a single word.

How could this be?

……

"Hmph, what 'Sword God'..."

Ren said in a slightly trembling voice, "That's all!"

He didn't possess Zhang Renfeng's invulnerability to swords and spears; he had indeed taken a sword wound to his lower back, and could only barely turn his upper body around. The timidity and uncertainty in his eyes had vanished, replaced by fierceness and determination, making him look exactly like a wounded wolf.

His right hand was still gripping the family heirloom samurai sword.

But in his left hand, he gripped the wakizashi tightly, held it in his other hand, and plunged it into his own fatal lower abdomen!

"Uh……"

Grass-dwelling Kari Masashi's pupils dilated slightly as he uttered a single syllable.

Without Qigong or Rama Kung Fu, the strategy of "exchanging injury for injury" begins to reveal its true cruelty and greatness. Ren is gambling that Kasaya Karimasa will spare his life to curry favor with Ito Hirobumi and will not stab him in a vital spot.

He made the right bet.