Chapter Forty: Battle

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The midday sun shone brightly, while a gentle breeze brought a trace of coolness, stirring small ripples across the river.

As the most outstanding member of his generation in the Liu family, even though his relationship with the main family was far from harmonious, only Liu Zhengde was qualified, on such a grand occasion, to slowly wheel his now-speechless father onto the stage. Likewise, only Liu Zhengde had the right to allow Liu Yun—a family member who had been missing for years—to join him in pushing the wheelchair forward.

He slowed his pace, always prepared to respond to an attack, but unexpectedly, nothing happened all the way until he and Liu Yun brought their father to the stage.

This, however, was no surprise to Liu Zhengde. After all, not everyone would knowingly leap into a trap—no matter how mad they might be themselves, the chances of success for such an obvious snare were no better than fifty-fifty.

Perhaps the plan had failed?

Quite a few people finally breathed a sigh of relief and let their guard down.

These guests had not wanted to become involved, but the death of the city lord had become the largest case in nearly a decade. By regulation, since Pei County required neighboring families to send people and resources, they had to bring a contingent. Moreover, evidence faintly suggested that those who had stolen from their clan were closely linked to the instigator of this event. With international tensions running high, Liu Zhengde’s status as a military officer had also risen, making him a worthy investment.

With these three factors combined—and the common-sense belief that no one would carelessly stumble into such an obvious trap—this event was thus held on such a grand scale.

It could be said that every family from the surrounding counties had sent representatives. Even from the capital’s elite forces, many acquaintances of Liu Zhengde had come.

It seemed they would not come.

With this thought, Liu Zhengde began to speak slowly, “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my father’s hundredth birthday!”

As if waiting for this very moment, before his words had even faded, the main doors were suddenly kicked open with tremendous force. The hardwood doors splintered instantly into a barrage of deadly projectiles, slicing through the air straight for the stage.

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A hoarse male voice called from beyond the door, “You should also thank them for attending your memorial!”

Before the fragments could reach their mark, two figures leapt from the crowd, intercepting the wooden shrapnel and hurling it back. Almost as if rehearsed, all unrelated guests retreated in an orderly, rapid fashion.

“So it is you!” Even before the intruder appeared, Liu Zhengde recognized him by his familiar voice. He signaled to Liu Yun to wheel their father to safety while speaking: “I always thought you were dead—Edward Dale, the War Hound.”

“I’ve crawled back from hell, my dear.” The hurled door was instantly smashed to pieces, and as the dust settled, the leader of the intruders stood revealed.

He was a man with ashen hair, a muscular build, and a massive scar running from the left side of his face down to his jaw. Countless smaller scars marked his skin, and a distinct dent marred the center of his brow.

“I told you I’m not so easy to kill. Come, Hunter, let’s begin our contest anew.” Edward bared his teeth in a grin, his sharp, steel-like teeth glinting coldly in the sunlight. “If you lose this time, everyone here will die—just like you killed all my comrades in the past.”

“Insolence! How dare you speak such madness!” Before Liu Zhengde could reply, two impatient figures burst forth. Both men were clearly practitioners of leg techniques, with muscular lower bodies and streamlined forms. Though their words sounded provoked, their movements showed restraint, ready to adapt at any instant.

The man on the left was about forty, with a war mark on his forehead resembling a leaf. The man on the right was younger, his brow adorned with three wavy lines forming a pattern.

“It’s Shen Lang, the Phantom Kick, and Yang An, the Woodland Bird.” Evidently, these two were well-known in the area, quickly recognized by the remaining martial artists. “With them in action, we’ll soon see what this intruder is made of.”

For martial artists skilled in legwork, their speed had long surpassed human limits. The dozen or so meters between them and Edward was covered in less than two seconds. Even as others conversed, the two had already moved in for a pincer attack, launching their strikes.

Phantom Kick: Myriad Shadows!

Tan Leg: Swaying Leaf!

Though it was their first time fighting side by side, their coordination was as if by instinct—one striking high, the other low—enveloping Edward in their combined assault, sealing off every escape.

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Bang!

But before their blows could land, a gunshot suddenly rang out. Though only a single shot, both men’s thighs were struck, blood spurting violently. Before they could react, a shadow, serpentine and swift, appeared behind Edward—

Feral Bite!

With nothing held back, Feral Bite struck with full force, shattering both men’s bones in an instant.

The newcomer had just arrived but had already claimed two lives.

“Beyond seven steps, the gun is faster. Within seven steps, the gun is still fast—and accurate.” Edward played with the modified revolver that had appeared in his hand, loading bullets one by one. “The main event has yet to begin. Why were you two clowns in such a hurry?”

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Seeing more people hurrying in, Edward made no move to stop them. Instead, he spread his arms wide and said, “How can a battle lack an audience? Thus, I won’t harm you—yet. You have five minutes to leave—though not too far.”

“After all, I’ll need you as sacrifices soon enough.”

“Where’s that boy, Liu Tian?” He flicked his tongue, catching a droplet of falling blood, and smiled with a snake’s cruelty. “Has he tucked his tail and run? This time, I’ll add you to my collection—just like I did with my master and senior brothers!”

“Snake, you’ve always been a pervert.” A powerful voice sounded, and the shadow it cast was enough to engulf Snake entirely. His robust muscles were like armor, his forehead marked with a prince’s war pattern. Known as Tiger, the man had arrived on the battlefield without anyone noticing. “I thought your days bedridden might have changed your ways.”

“As if a snake could ever change. After this, why don’t we just get rid of him? He only tarnishes our reputation.” No less imposing than Tiger, the man known as Bull strode forward, his fists as solid as iron pillars, his bare upper body forming a perfect inverted triangle with his waist, and his brow adorned with twin horn-like markings. “Might be time for some fresh blood.”