Why do I have so many masters?

Bing Hongcai stood in place, exhaling a breath, as the courage he had just mustered seemed to be completely shattered by that dragon-like spear.

He almost felt like he was struggling to breathe.

Just now, he had said that they were both Sixth Rank Martial Artists, so how could there be any difference between them? But that move 'Shake Scales Armor' had smashed his words to pieces.

Reality told him in an unquestionable manner that even among Sixth Rank Martial Artists, there were vast differences.

Bing Hongcai's face had turned pale.

A Grandmaster was, after all, a Grandmaster.

Fei Poyue's eyes showed a trace of disappointment; he did not wish to take the life of the young man before him.

This young man had a long future ahead of him.

Just as he considered backing down, Wang Anfeng made a move.

When he moved, it was like a thunderbolt erupting, his hands gripping the middle of the spear, and the long spear seemed to instantly transform into a short spear. With a fierce slanting stroke, the heavy spear created a trace of an afterimage, overtaking from behind to strike Fei Poyue's spear when it was just a foot away from Wang Anfeng.

The heavy blade, paired with a powerful force.

It was as if a hundred cauldrons were resonating at once; the intense, dense trembling sounds created ripples visible to the naked eye, surging outwards. The spear in Wang Anfeng's hands, like a thunderbolt that defied logic, struck the black dragon, breaking the sophisticated technique in the crudest and most barbaric way.

At the same time, his right foot stamped forward heavily.

His body suddenly spun around.

At this moment, his long spear was positioned across his waist, following him in the turn. The other half of the spear re-emerged, like a short stick, descending towards the black spear but changing the move in an instant.

The young man's left hand grasped the part of the spear below the tip, exerting force suddenly, and the spear, like a long stick, aimed directly at Fei Poyue.

"Good!"

The old man laughed, showing no signs of retreat. Gripping the spear in his right hand and forming a fist with his left, he smashed it heavily onto the incoming spear handle. The trembling sound resurfaced, and a hint of flush appeared on Wang Anfeng's face. He stepped back, while Fei Poyue, weakened by old age, stumbled backwards as well.

It was a draw.

Yu Jianmu swallowed hard, his gaze somewhat dull, not as sharp as usual. The exchange of moves just now, whether the 'Red Dragon Shake Scales Armor' that was exquisitely designed, or Wang Anfeng's thunderbolt-like method of disrupting it, both were enough to take his life in an instant.

This was the collision of technique and strength.

Blinking, he snapped back to reality and his eyes landed on the solid brick wall beside him.

A light crackling sound.

Two ferocious cracks appeared on the green wall, extending all the way to the ground.

From these cracks, fine stone dust poured out.

Yu Jianmu's pupils contracted as his heart pounded wildly beneath his chest.

Wang Anfeng's right hand holding the spear handle twitched slightly, dispersing the abnormal numbness between his fingers.

The old man's punch had hit the spear handle with more than ten types of vigorous Qi interweaving, winding along the spear shaft to his palm, stirring his meridians, and scattering the brute strength of the Ten Powers of Tathagata.

He had never heard nor seen such fist techniques before. The force was so strong that he even doubted whether the fist strength that passed through the cold iron spear had diminished at all.

He had only felt this level of oppression from his Master.

Fei Poyue gripped the spear, yet he did not rest the butt of the black spear on the ground to support him.

His pride prevented him from doing such a thing.

Dressed in a cotton buttoned robe and a pair of black shoes with white soles, he stood like a towering mountain. His blood boiled within, his aged muscles rigid. Gripping the spear in his hand and standing firm on the ground, his body slowly relaxed, the rising Combat Will gradually bringing him back to a state fit for battle.

His wrist vibrated slightly, and the black spear, sensing its master's revival, whined softly.

Wang Anfeng took a deep breath, his eyes solemn. In his mind, the experiences of encountering spearmen and clashing with them flowed slowly like water.

Fei Poyue did not make a move.

The aura on his body grew more exuberant, the oppressive force that kept growing stronger, was something even Yu Jianmu could clearly feel. He found his own breathing becoming gradually more difficult, like a fish scooped out of water, feeling the suffocation clearly and truly.

His eyes fixated on Wang Anfeng.

Why not attack?

His mind filled with puzzlement.

Fei Poyue looked at the young man before him, admiration overflowing in his light gray eyes.

He rarely admired someone to such an extent.

Yet recently, he had encountered two remarkable individuals, one in letters and one in martial arts.

The energy within him had climbed to its peak. With his right hand on the spear and the tip slightly raised towards the left, the old man slowly spoke,

"Please!"

Wang Anfeng's eyes were calm. Since the old man had no intention of killing just now, he understood that there must be hidden circumstances around the occupation of Tan Residence. But whatever the circumstances, this battle was now unavoidable.

If one must fight, then it should be done in an upright manner.

Now that the old man had allowed him a move, he took a deep breath, stepped forward with his right foot, and gently placed it on the ground. On the skin of his right foot emerged a pale golden glow and the fiery red Buddhist Scripture.

Vajra Prajna.

My Buddha Tathagata.

As a disciple, I vow to hold the Vajra appearance, to end all disturbances, and to cleanse the demons!

A crisp crackling sound.

Under Wang Anfeng's feet, the ground burst with fine cracks, which quickly expanded. Amid the surging wave of energy, he had used it to suddenly appear in front of Fei Poyue.

His right foot, thigh, waist, and arms, muscle upon muscle tensed to exert force, the strength accumulating and growing continuously, like a torrential river flowing downwards without any waste, it was as if a Strong Bow and Powerful Crossbow were combined, in sync with the Inner Strength surging within him, all poured into the Heavy Spear in his hand.

The spear thrust forward abruptly, the sound of cleaving air slightly delayed.

At the tip of the spear, the air twisted ever so slightly.

Fei Poyue stepped back, his Spear suddenly thrusting forward, casting countless cold glimmers like the night sky. Due to its extreme speed, onlookers almost felt as if time had slowed down.

This scene, reminiscent of a starry night sky, vanished in an instant, each cold glimmer morphing into a spear point, raining down accurately upon the tip of Wang Anfeng's Sky-piercing Heavy Spear.

Following the crisp, dense sounds, Fei Poyue suddenly spun around, his Spear piercing straight out with the momentum of his rotating waist, as straight as a drawn line.

The tips of both Spears pointed steadily at each other.

An instant of deathly silence.

Then, the terrifying energy waves contained in Wang Anfeng's Heavy Spear seemed to crash against a thick iron wall, rolling out to both sides.

Yu Jianmu staggered backward. He was a Martial Artist with respectable Martial Arts, but now he could hardly stabilize his stance, retreating all the way to the blue wall, his back pressing tightly against the cold surface.

The wall seemed to tremble again.

Fei Poyue breathed out lightly, and at that instant, when the two spears clashed, his right hand effortlessly and naturally turned slightly.

It was as if a fish flicking its tail, creating smooth ripples in water.

His black Spear's tip turned, evading Wang Anfeng's Heavy Spear and aimed at the young man's wrist, while at the same time, the elder stepped aside, avoiding the incoming spear tip.

In that moment, Wang Anfeng seemed to have anticipated this, grasping the spear with both hands and flipping his wrist, his spear point pressing down. With an overwhelming force, he suppressed the agile black Spear.

He had understood.

In terms of Spear Technique alone, he was far from the match of the elder before him.

But why compete solely in Spear Technique? Now was the time to take the initiative, to draw the fight into the rhythm he excelled in.

Fei Poyue also noticed Wang Anfeng's plan, the admiration in his eyes growing stronger.

His palm trembled slightly, the form of his Spear Technique changing again. With just a simple circling motion, like turning Tai Chi, he freed his Spear from Wang Anfeng's Heavy Spear, wielded it forward, thrusting, flicking, stabbing, striking in rapid succession. The subtle complexities of his Spear Technique were not to be explained to outsiders.

Meanwhile, Wang Anfeng tried his best to replicate the Spear Technique he had witnessed in the Shaolin Copper Man Lane. Though he could not emulate the core Vigorous Qi, the external appearance of the moves were seven or eight parts similar, either venomous or domineering, yet all encompassed within the Shaolin's 'All appearances are non-appearance' Zen philosophy, vigorous and righteous.

A duel of strength versus skill.

Here, it was almost explained to a certain extreme.

The auras of the two Martial Artists complemented and elevated each other, growing more exuberant as the collision between spear tips shook the air. That will of the Martial Artist, fierce as a tiger, spread continuously, encompassing everyone around.

Fei Yuanzhen's face was ashen, while Fei Yuanbai had an even graver expression of defeat.

Having cultivated under Fei Poyue since childhood, he considered himself to have mastered seven or eight parts of Spear Technique, fist techniques, Inner Strength, and movement techniques. His fear was merely due to the long-standing impression left on him.

But what was unfolding before him now was a Martial Arts World that was much broader and profound.

His so-called seven or eight parts of mastery didn't even qualify him to glimpse this world.

He let out a bitter laugh. Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire

And those dozens of Martial Artists standing behind the elder, their gazes towards Wang Anfeng were gradually changing, carrying three parts of respect. Without knowing who started it, they had begun sitting cross-legged on the ground.

Just like when they once learned Martial Arts under the elder, they were solemn and respectful, watching the fight between the two Martial Artists with fervent eyes.

The two Spears once again collided fiercely.

Then they separated, each thrusting towards their enemy. However, the fierceness from the earlier struggle seemed to have faded. Wang Anfeng raised his hand to grasp the spear shaft below the tip, displaying the exquisite Martial Arts of the Prajna Palm and forcibly catching the black Spear, while his Heavy Spear was similarly captured by the elder.

The waves of energy slowly dispersed.

Fei Poyue looked up at the young man before him, his Combat Will already slowly receding.

After all, he was no longer in his prime.

Because of Tan Yurou and Tan Tianxiong's connection, this elder, who was over eighty years old, somewhat regarded Wang Anfeng as a junior. He planned to take over Tan Residence as a retreat for his own bloodline.

But at this moment, a new idea had emerged in his heart.

His wrist shook, and his Spear tip easily broke free from Wang Anfeng's grasp, as if the intention to contain emptiness in that grip did not exist at all for Fei Poyue, causing the young man's expression to change slightly.

The elder withdrew his Spear and said indifferently,

"Come inside and speak."

PS: Presenting the second update...

Special thanks to classmate Hei Pangzi for the generous tip, much appreciated