Chapter 4485 — Certain Defeat?
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
Moreover, Wei Zhao had always possessed extraordinary self-control; if he truly set his mind on leaving not a single opening, it was not impossible.
The second strategy, by contrast, plainly carried the flavor of risking one's life. Wei Zhao had never been a gambler; unless driven to the absolute end of his rope, he would never wager his life and fortune against another.
With his mind made up, Wei Zhao's next moves were naturally clear. He used the Butterfly Microstep to maintain his positioning while employing every convenient martial skill at hand to wear his opponent down—Mad Fire Eight Trigrams Palm, Mad Fire Fist, Mad Fire Thousand Kicks, and so on. His various signature techniques came in rotation, one after another, with scarcely a pause.
Had anyone else done the same, they would likely have exhausted their true qi before ever finishing off their opponent—after all, however vast one's reserves of true qi, there was always a limit. Wei Zhao, however, plainly had no such worry.
By comparison, Cheng Haonan was far less extravagant than Wei Zhao. He had essentially never used any martial skill of particular power, relying purely on ordinary punches and kicks to respond. Yet though they were called ordinary, their might was in truth by no means trifling; even compared with Wei Zhao's martial skills, they did not fall the slightest bit short.
The longer Wei Zhao fought, the more alarmed he grew. He had never encountered such a situation before: his opponent, using only ordinary punches and kicks, could actually stand toe-to-toe against him at full power—and faintly, imperceptibly, it even seemed his opponent held the upper hand!
Were it not for experiencing it firsthand, such a thing would be almost unimaginable. Yet after several rounds of deadlock, Wei Zhao had more or less grasped a bit of the essence of his opponent's blows. The reason they could be so formidable was that they were not purely ordinary punches and kicks—some true qi had been infused into them.
Of course, the true qi infused into each punch and kick was not much; otherwise the gain would not be worth the cost, and he might as well have used a martial skill outright. After all, martial skills existed precisely to maximize the power of true qi, and the amount Cheng Haonan applied to his blows fell far short of even the minimum required for a martial skill.
Yet though the true qi he applied to his blows was scant, every bit of it was spent where it counted. That tiny sliver of true qi somehow brought a qualitative leap to the power of his punches and kicks, until they were not the least bit inferior to the vast majority of ordinary martial skills. Such a method was nothing short of miraculous!
This Cheng Haonan was worthy of being the leader of the Poison Eye Mercenary Corps—a man who could rise to become a local warlord was indeed no simple figure!
Earlier, Wu Baoliang's Mad Sand Thousand Bursts Fist had been formidable, but what Wei Zhao truly feared was merely the technique itself; he had paid Wu Baoliang himself little mind. Now, facing Cheng Haonan—even though the man was a mortal enemy he must kill—Wei Zhao could not help but feel a trace of admiration. The pressure this man brought to bear on him was far greater than Wu Baoliang's.
Because Cheng Haonan was not as spectacular as Wu Baoliang, the crowd below did not perceive the extent of his strength as clearly as Wei Zhao did. Watching the two fighters trade moves at a furious pace, they instead felt the match was evenly poised and thoroughly exhilarating.
Even Qi Wenmo held this view, watching with his heart surging beyond control. Yet butler Song, standing beside him, shook his head without a trace. If the fight continued this way, Young Hero Ling was in grave peril...