Chapter 70: The Battle Against All Rivals, Part Two

Chapter Seventy: Battle Among Heroes, Part II

Wu Hong’s body shot forward several dozen yards, swifter than any lightness technique; yet all of it was due to his own innate strength, with not a trace of martial skill aiding him. If word of this got out, it would surely astound everyone.

With just a few leaps, Wu Hong had exited the grand hall. Before him stretched a forest of black wood. His face lit up with joy—so long as he entered those woods, his pursuers would never catch him.

“Villain, halt! Let me show you my Heaven’s Net!” Just as Wu Hong was elated, a figure sprang out from the black woods, wielding a net like those used for fishing, and flung it forcefully skyward. Instantly, the enormous net spread across hundreds of yards.

Wu Hong was startled. He tried to dodge, but it was too late; he was caught by this strange net.

“Haha, I’ve caught a minion of the Demon Wu!” A white-bearded, grizzled old man laughed heartily.

The pursuers behind Wu Hong all grinned with satisfaction.

This white-bearded, short and thin elder was famous in the martial world, known as “Heaven’s Net” Zhao Luo.

Though his martial prowess was not extraordinary, barely at the initial stage of Bone Refining, he possessed a unique skill: casting the Heaven’s Net across a hundred yards, ensnaring many famed martial artists.

Wu Hong knew none of this. Shocked, he stamped both feet deep into the rocky ground, embedding his legs below the knees into solid stone.

Zhao Luo yanked hard at the net’s mouth, intending to reel it in, but it wouldn’t budge, as if his net covered a mountain—immovable.

His expression changed; he drew a dagger from his waist and leapt nimbly above the trapped Wu Hong. “Villain, I’ll send you to the afterlife!”

With a shout, Zhao Luo stabbed downward.

“Hmph—such despicable tricks! You think you can trap me?” Wu Hong gave a cold snort and swiftly drew his favored butcher’s knife to block upward. With a metallic clang, the dagger was sliced in two, with one piece flying past Zhao Luo’s cheek.

Startled, Zhao Luo touched his face, finding it stained with blood. He hastily flipped backward twice to retreat.

Wu Hong pulled at the net with all his might, but it was resilient and finely woven—if used for fishing, not a single fish could escape. His immense strength was useless against it.

He tried hacking at the net with his sharp blade, but the net was not only elastic but also sticky; as soon as the blade struck, it was stuck fast!

Just as Wu Hong was at a loss, a whistling sound filled the air; dozens of martial experts attacked him, their true energies of various colors forming nearly a hundred strikes.

What truly unsettled Wu Hong was Little Dongfang’s embroidery needle—so tiny, with invisible energy, almost impossible to defend against.

Wu Hong’s protective true energy surged, enveloping him in a hundred-yard sphere of golden light, dazzling the eyes of those around. But the attacks came all the same.

With a thunderous blast, the myriad true energies struck Wu Hong’s shield, causing a small explosion. The surrounding ground was stripped of stone, the destructive force terrifying.

Wu Hong felt his internal organs shaken, spat a mouthful of blood, and the explosive shockwave sent everyone stumbling backward. Those who failed to defend in time were left battered, their clothes in tatters.

After the explosion, Wu Hong found the net around him fused together. A thought struck him; he took a hammer from his space ring and infused it with true energy. As expected, the hammer became increasingly magical, growing to over a hundred yards.

It fully propped up the net, but the net remained vast, still enclosing him. He realized the net was a treasure—unbreakable by blade or hand, surely responsible for many deaths. His attackers, capable of ambushing him so, were clearly not benevolent.

“Hong Wu, let’s see how you escape today!” The Beggars’ Sect leader Li Haoyang stepped forward, swinging both arms as a golden dragon coiled around him, its movements fierce, its power immense.

He thrust both hands forward, unleashing the final strike of the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms—Regret of the Arrogant Dragon—accompanied by a thunderous dragon roar, attacking Wu Hong.

Wu Hong was startled but unafraid; he slammed the giant hammer before him, shaking the earth and shattering stone, blocking Li Haoyang’s full-strength blow.

The crowd, seeing the golden giant hammer in Wu Hong’s hands, all felt helpless, as if ants facing an elephant.

But now there was no retreat; letting Hong Wu escape would bring endless trouble. Everyone cursed Little Dongfang for inciting this confrontation in the first place.

Little Dongfang was dumbfounded; Wu Hong’s enormous hammer, over a hundred yards in size, blocked his figure completely.

To attack Wu Hong, they would have to leap over the hammer, but Wu Hong could simply shift it, blocking all attacks again.

Many grew greedy; most had heard Wu Hong had seized a divine weapon in Monkey Valley—clearly, this hammer. Secretly, they thought, if I could obtain this magical transforming hammer, wouldn’t I dominate the world?

All present were Bone Refining masters, many at the pinnacle of Postnatal cultivation.

Seeing Wu Hong reveal such a rare treasure, compassion stirred within them; they leapt a hundred yards high, aiming to attack Wu Hong from behind.

As Wu Hong swung the giant hammer, he found a way to break the net. His true energy was draining rapidly; he had no desire to prolong the fight.

Wu Hong held the hammer in one hand, a sharp blade in the other. The hammer spun rapidly in midair, dragging the net along.

The massive net, whirled by the hammer, spun faster and faster, creating a tornado centered on Wu Hong.

The tornado was infused with Wu Hong’s Great Sun Tathagata True Energy, sending sand and stones flying. Even a small pebble, if struck, could be fatal to anyone below Bone Refining.

The experts found their footing difficult; though not in mortal danger, inflicting further harm on Wu Hong was impossible.

Wu Songran and Wu Lie watched in stunned silence, mouths agape.

“Brother—he’s like a god!” After several minutes, as the tornado grew, Wu Songran finally voiced his awe.

Wu Lie’s face darkened; he knew the gap between himself and Wu Hong was vast, but he hadn’t imagined it was so immense. With such power, Wu Hong was invincible; if he rushed into their ranks wielding that hammer, who could stand against him?

Zhao Luo, who had cast the Heaven’s Net, saw his net completely entangled around Wu Hong’s hammer and cried out, “Wu Hong, I’ll fight you to the end!”

His enormous net was now wholly lifted off the ground by the hammer; Wu Hong could leave at any moment.

Zhao Luo was anxious—his net was a treasure found in a mountain cave fifty years ago, when the Book of Heaven’s Cave opened. He’d roamed the martial world ever since, and any expert caught by the net had met their end.

Now, seeing Wu Hong’s hammer shrink rapidly, the net shrinking with it, Zhao Luo feared his treasure would be lost. Regardless of whether he could best Wu Hong, he charged forward.

Wu Hong’s physical condition was dire, but seeing only Zhao Luo daring to attack, he felt relieved. His true energy was depleted; if the crowd had rushed him together, he would surely have been captured.

But the martial artists, awed by Wu Hong’s might, none followed Zhao Luo’s lead.

Mid-air, Zhao Luo produced a long staff from nowhere and swung it down at Wu Hong, true energy swirling with strange winds, power immense.

Wu Hong, targeting the trajectory, smashed his fist into the staff, snapping it with a single blow. Zhao Luo spat blood and was hurled far away by the force.

The crowd erupted in shock. Wu Hong’s exchange with Zhao Luo used no visible true energy, yet Zhao Luo’s staff was shattered and he was sent flying, fate unknown—truly terrifying.

Everyone felt their scalp tingle. They thought: Hong Wu is unbeatable, even more fearsome than the Demon Wu Hong himself.

After sending Zhao Luo flying, Wu Hong stowed his weapons in the space ring, coldly surveying the crowd. “Slaying you is as easy as killing chickens and butchering cattle—no effort at all! Do not provoke me, Wu Hong! I told you, I am the real Wu Hong!”

With those words, Wu Hong vanished, charging into the vast black wood forest.

The renowned martial heroes felt bitter. Decades of cultivation, yet none could match this Hong Wu, who rose to fame in just a year—it was truly shameful!

“Could he really be Wu Hong? That’s even more terrifying! He’s worse than the Demon Wu Hong—rumored to have killed his own father and fled. Surely not a good man! If we’ve offended him so, what future do we have?”

The clever among them realized the crux of the problem.

Wu Hong’s invincible figure became a demon in many hearts.

Wu Lie and Little Dongfang watched Wu Hong disappear, their faces changing repeatedly, lost in thought.

The Beggars’ Sect leader Li Haoyang was despondent. He’d hoped, after finding a preternatural manual in the Book of Heaven’s Cave and cultivating diligently, to shine in the campaign against the demon Wu Hong.

Yet he was still powerless against Hong Wu’s blows.

Wu Hong, fleeing into the forest, felt his strength ebbing—he had only barely held on. If a few more fearless enemies had appeared, danger would be imminent.