After strengthening his body,
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Their fists and feet collided once more. Each of Chu Feng's steel fists and iron legs knocked Wang Qiang back, making his body shudder, his limbs go numb, and his face twist in agony.
At first, Wang Qiang—perhaps out of pride—refused to back down. He didn't say much either, simply gritting his teeth and choosing to endure.
But as the exchanges continued, the pain grew ever worse. His hands and feet, which had merely gone numb before, were now torn open and drenched in blood.
Finally, Wang Qiang could take no more. He dodged backward and shouted at Chu Feng, "Stop, stop, stop… stop!"
"Th-this…"
Everyone was stunned. They could see Wang Qiang's trembling hands, his shaking legs, and his fists—torn open and dripping with blood.
But when they looked at Chu Feng, he was exactly the same as before the fight—completely unharmed, even appearing to be in better shape than before.
At this point, the outcome was obvious. In the physical confrontation between Chu Feng and Wang Qiang, Chu Feng had won a decisive victory.
"What's wrong? Weren't you the self-proclaimed undefeated little tyrant with a body of iron and steel?" Chu Feng looked at Wang Qiang with a grin—there was no mockery in it, only a playful tone, as if he were joking.
"You—you—you're too underhanded! I—I—I have a body of iron and steel, but you're a steel war god! How—how can I possibly fight you?"
"But don't you d-d-don't you get cocky! What I'm best at isn't close-quarters brawling—it's channeling martial arts techniques!"
This Wang Qiang was truly shameless. Not only did he feel no embarrassment over his earlier boasts, but he simply pivoted and started bragging all over again.
"Fine, then let me see just how strong your control over martial arts techniques really is," Chu Feng said with a smile.
"You—you—you're sure? If I—if I use martial arts techniques, that—that'll be really terrifying," Wang Qiang said, his face brimming with confidence.
"I'd actually love to see just how terrifying," Chu Feng replied.
"Young man, you really don't know when you're out of your depth. If I unleash my martial arts, it'll be truly devastating."
"It—it—it might even kill you. I suggest you th-th-think twice," Wang Qiang advised with utmost generosity.
"Then I want to see it even more," Chu Feng said, still unafraid.
"Fine. Since you insi-i-insist on seeking death, I'll ful-fi-ill your wish." With that, Wang Qiang suddenly struck, swinging both arms as fierce gusts of wind surged from his palms.
The wind roared forth, darkening the sky and blotting out sun and moon.
This was a martial art technique—but not a particularly strong one. It was merely a lowly third-rank martial art.
That's right, a third-rank martial art—the lowest grade among martial arts.
Yet even such a technique, when channeled by Wang Qiang, displayed world-shattering power.
Such was the terror of a Martial King powerhouse. Of course, it also demonstrated Wang Qiang's own fearsome skill—his control over martial arts was indeed formidable.
"Heh."
But Chu Feng was no ordinary opponent. When it came to controlling martial arts techniques, Chu Feng had never lost to anyone.
Suddenly, Chu Feng flipped both palms outward and unleashed them in rapid succession. A "pa pa pa" sound, like firecrackers, crackled continuously before him.
At the same time, countless luminous palms materialized before Chu Feng like a rain of meteors, multiplying until they filled the void before him. They surged toward the oncoming wind, intertwined with it, and sent ripples of energy cascading through heaven and earth, sweeping in every direction.
This was the martial art Chu Feng had learned at the Azure Dragon Sect—the Illusory Palm.