Early the next morning, Chu Ming packed up and cautiously walked back along the path he had come.
The previous lesson had been deeply imprinted in Chu Ming’s mind, so in this dangerous area, he did not travel on the ground but leaped from one tree to another, his soul unleashed to its limit along the way. At the slightest sound, he would immediately conceal his presence and remain motionless.
An hour later, Chu Ming, following the direction of Cyan Yang Sect, returned to the place where Yang Zong had hunted him. The ground was still in disarray, trees collapsed, and Luo Chuan’s corpse was no longer in sight, likely devoured by demon beasts.
Chu Ming’s expression shifted, and before he had time to turn around, he felt a fierce gust of wind coming from behind him. The air was instantly blasted apart, with intense roaring sounds following.
Without any hesitation, Chu Ming lightly stepped off the ground, his body leaping into the air, turning to punch out. Red energy burst from his fist, full of scorching heat, causing the surrounding air to swirl backward.
Purple and red rays intertwined constantly, as two fists collided repeatedly. The fierce wind blew against their faces, the air around their fists turning completely red and purple, painting the air like brilliant fireworks.
Using the force of the rebound, Chu Ming stepped back three steps, the assailant also forced to retreat three steps, groaning lightly. His burly figure shuddered, smashing the surrounding trees with the fierce wind.
"Chu Ming, you really didn’t die!" Yang Zong said in a deep voice, slowly wiping the blood from his fist, yet his heart was astonished. To confirm Chu Ming’s death, he had waited here for three days.
This was the only way back to Cyan Yang Sect through the Cyan Yang Mountain Range. If Chu Ming hadn’t died, he would have to pass through here to return.
Yang Zong had intended to give up today and return to the sect to report, but just as he was about to leave, he unexpectedly saw Chu Ming. Fearing Chu Ming would escape to the center of the Cyan Yang Mountain Range again, he hid in the shadows, preparing to kill Chu Ming with a single strike.
Unexpectedly, their recent encounter was evenly matched. Chu Ming’s physical strength was not inferior to his, and seemed faintly stronger, making Yang Zong incredibly envious and certain that Chu Ming had gained some remarkable opportunity in the mountain range.
"Chu Ming, hand over everything you got from the center of the Cyan Yang Mountain Range, and I will let you leave safely today!"
Yang Zong’s eyes were full of greed. Although Chu Ming’s current strength matched his, he was confident he could kill him if he used his trump cards.
"I have everything with me. If you want it, let’s see if you have what it takes!" Chu Ming said calmly, his treasure sword unsheathed, a flash of white sword light. Yang Zong’s ambush was unexpected, but not surprising to him.
"Courting death!" Yang Zong’s eyes flashed with killing intent. His fists glowed purple like violet flames, and he leapt forward like a great goose, fists enveloping Chu Ming.
Chu Ming raised his sword, a white ethereal sword light diffusing around, instantly disrupting Yang Zong’s fist force like a deflated balloon.
Yang Zong’s expression didn’t change, the purple aura around him thickening, a desolate wilderness aura diffusing, making Chu Ming feel as if he had returned to the desolate wilderness, beasts rampant, a colossal demon bull rising behind Yang Zong, the manifestation of the Demon Bull Primordial Technique at its peak.
Chu Ming chose not to dodge but to confront directly. In the past three days, he had repeatedly broken through, not even knowing his current limits.
Meeting Yang Zong now was perfect to use him as a whetstone to test his strength.
Yang Zong punched out, the surrounding air cleared, creating a vacuum around them. In Chu Ming’s eyes, Yang Zong seemed like a towering mountain charging at him.
Chu Ming thrust his sword forward, the Fire Burning True Skill at its peak, forming a three-foot Gang Yuan, fire essence splashing.
Chu Ming’s sword tip met Yang Zong’s purple fist; sparks flew, the area turned completely red and purple with Qi force. Both their bodies shook, then flew backward.
In mid-retreat, Chu Ming stomped hard on the ground, using the force to turn into a tight wind, rushing towards Yang Zong, his sword tip aiming at his face.
In a critical moment, Yang Zong forcefully struck with his leg, deflecting Chu Ming’s sword, flipping in the air to land steadily, his eyes flickering with ruthlessness, turning to engage Chu Ming again.
Waves of Qi rolled around, purple and red light intertwining and clashing, brilliant like fireworks. Yang Zong cultivated Body Refining Techniques, supposed to be invincible at the same level, but Chu Ming’s physical training was not weaker, nullifying his advantage.
And Chu Ming’s swordsmanship, free and unconstrained, completely lacking any pattern, kept Yang Zong on the back foot. Chu Ming’s Tyrant Fist was low-tier, merely a top-tier Yellow Level Martial Technique.
If Chu Ming had cultivated a Profound Level Martial Technique, even a low-tier one, his physical strength would surpass his spiritual power.
Both their bodies shook simultaneously, stepping back a few paces, Yang Zong’s face flushed, while Chu Ming remained calm, his white clothes fluttering.
Yang Zong said harshly, eyes flashing with pain, taking out a small transparent bottle from his storage ring, palm-sized, with viscous red liquid flowing inside, emitting a strange wave.
Then, to Chu Ming’s surprise, Yang Zong opened the bottle and meticulously applied the liquid to his arms until they gleamed, muscles bulging before stopping.
Chu Ming frowned. In his perception, after applying the blood, Yang Zong’s strength gradually increased, reaching forty oxen-equivalent strength in a short while.
"Demon Bull Primordial Force!"
With a low roar, two massive howls appeared on Yang Zong’s fists, two purple demon bull-shaped phantoms floating on his fists, exuding boundless might.
Two punches struck out, the surrounding trees crashing down, dust rising. The two demon bulls charged towards Chu Ming rampantly, creating several cracks in the ground.