Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8398: A draw (1)

Zhao Hai had no desire to face constant challenges. Within the Alliance Army, nobody dared to step up against him. A few had considered issuing a challenge to Zhao Hai after witnessing his clash with Qian Wushuang. They held a basic grasp of his power by then. Beyond his renowned Zhen Fang giant palm, merely his blade skills were sufficient to overwhelm numerous foes.

Once Zhao Hai made his way back to the camp, the Alliance Army fell silent for quite some time, with no challengers emerging. It was only after a considerable delay that someone leaped forward from their ranks. Clad in a white scholar's robe, his complexion was deathly pale, resembling a long-term invalid. Upon spotting him, the crowd instantly pegged him as a member of the sick man sect.

Members of the sick man sect shared a distinctive trait—they all appeared chronically ill. Certain high-level cultivators among them even displayed signs of grave affliction. Yet their prowess demanded respect. The newcomer clearly hailed from the sick man sect.

Zhao Hai cast a glance at the sick man sect individual, a flicker of seriousness crossing his gaze. He then declared, "Is that senior brother willing to test the sick man sect's techniques?" Zhao Hai detected an underlying danger from this sick man sect figure. For such a threat to emerge against him, it indicated the man's formidable might and hidden aces. This explained Zhao Hai's stern demeanor.

From within the blood slaughter sect's array, a voice promptly answered, ready to engage. Zhao Hai turned toward the responder and noted the speaker's unremarkable appearance. His cultivation level was decent but not exceptional. Still, his sturdy hands suggested a deep fixation on blade arts. Zhao Hai nodded approvingly, sent a brief mental message, and gestured for him to proceed into the fray.

Hearing Zhao Hai's transmission left the man momentarily taken aback. Yet he recognized it as a telepathic method. He trusted that Zhao Hai's guidance held wisdom. With a nod to convey his comprehension, he vaulted from the blood slaughter sect's formation and stepped into the ring.

The sick man sect man eyed the blood slaughter sect cultivator without a word, merely covering his mouth to cough repeatedly, as though frailty gripped him. He then announced, "Sick man sect, You Jun, please offer your guidance." Finishing, he offered a light fist salute.

The blood slaughter sect cultivator returned the salute and replied, "Jin Yong of the blood slaughter sect. Please advise me." With that, he summoned a blade into his grasp. His weapon was peculiar—not lengthy at just two feet, yet broad. The edge lay flat, the spine hefty, while the hilt stretched three feet. Such an armament was indeed uncommon.

As the saber materialized, a piercing sharpness gradually radiated from it. He directed the blade at the sick man sect opponent and bellowed, "Take this!" In executing the stroke, the blood slaughter sect onlookers froze upon recognizing the form: the sect's Bloody Battle Eight Forms.

The sick man sect cultivator's eyes gleamed at the displayed technique. Outer sect folks often assessed blood slaughter sect disciples as tough adversaries—no surprise there. Still, few blood slaughter sect members employed the Bloody Battle Eight Forms in external bouts. Everyone knew it as a staple saber art for the sect, but mishandling it could prove fatal, yielding scant power.

One consensus across sects held firm: encountering a blood slaughter sect disciple versed in the Bloody Battle Eight Forms demanded caution if strengths matched. Such a fighter, bold enough to unleash it, exuded supreme faith in their bladework. They could unleash a portion of its might. These were the trickiest foes to face.

Jin Yong's deployment of the Bloody Battle Eight Forms signaled his strong belief in the art and his own skills. An opponent like that warranted full wariness. You Jun's face grew more serious as this dawned on him. He extended his palms in a feeble strike while crying out, "Five Lao Fist!"

The Five Lao Fist, Seven Wounded Palm, and Cold Wind Kick stood as the sick man sect's famed secrets. All stemmed from one core method: the Five Lao Seven Wounded Palm. Weaker disciples couldn't master the full art, so the sect broke it into the Five Lao Fist, Seven Wounded Palm, and Cold Wind Kick.

The Five Lao Fist targeted vital organs through its strikes. It split into aspects like Heart-Crushing Fist, Liver-Hurting Fist, Lung-Crippling Fist, Spleen-Breaking Finger, and Kidney-Breaking Kick. Mastering it unleashed five forces simultaneously, nearly impossible for ordinary foes to resist. It ranked among the sick man sect's celebrated fist arts.

You Jun's frail punches met Jin Yong's saber head-on. Jin Yong's blade carried a savage, war-torn ferocity, yet it faltered against You Jun's soft blows. A resounding clash echoed as You Jun's fist and Jin Yong's long blade recoiled together. Both fighters staggered back, each retreating five steps to steady themselves.

Surprise flickered across Jin Yong's features, soon replaced by composure. He flourished his long blade with a laugh, "Good! I never imagined your strength to be this formidable. Today calls for a proper clash. Take this!" He then lunged with another slash at You Jun.

You Jun remained silent, countering with waving fists as he advanced. Their exchange of blows and blade strikes unfolded dynamically. With comparable power levels, neither gained the upper hand. In moments, over fifty exchanges had passed.

You Jun recognized Jin Yong's true caliber. Prolonging the skirmish wouldn't easily topple him. He pondered inwardly whether to deploy that ultimate technique. Ultimately, he resolved to do so, as their side hadn't claimed a victory since the arena began. Losing now would shame them deeply.

Crucially, triumph here would elevate the sick man sect's prestige. Defeats had befallen the corpse demon sect, Yin ghost sect, and heaven crippling sect cultivators. A win would let the sick man sect shine publicly—a boon indeed.

With this in mind, You Jun steeled his intent. He sought an opening to unleash his lethal strike. Jin Yong, vigilant toward You Jun, spotted the glint in his eyes and sensed mischief brewing. Recalling Zhao Hai's pre-battle caution, he ramped up his guard.

Zhao Hai had alerted him to beware this sick man sect foe's potential trump card and to watch for it during combat. Failure might spell peril. Though Jin Yong puzzled over Zhao Hai's intel source, he stayed alert. Thus, the eye's subtle shine prompted immediate readiness.

After ten further moves, You Jun abruptly exposed a vulnerability. Craftily feigned, it still caught the hyper-aware Jin Yong's notice. His pulse quickened; he suspected an imminent assault. Heightening his focus inwardly while masking it outwardly, he feigned ignorance and targeted the apparent gap with his blade.

You Jun's face lit with delight at that instant. He yelled, "Prolonged illness makes a doctor!" A one-foot silver needle materialized in his grip, launching toward Jin Yong's Shanzhong acupoint. A hit there would seal Jin Yong's doom.

But Jin Yong anticipated the ploy, responding swiftly. He roared as he thrust the saber hilt forward—its extended handle ending in a grip that now intercepted the needle.

A sharp clang rang out as the hilt clashed with the silver needle. The impact jolted both back, blood spraying from their mouths mid-retreat. Clearly, the exchange wounded them. Halting their steps, they coughed up more blood, their injuries severe enough to end the fight.

Zhao Hai eyed Jin Yong and exhaled deeply. In a grave tone, he stated, "This bout ends in a draw. Both forfeit further combat. Does the other side concur?" Zhao Hai wasn't sure of their leader amid the many sects and varying managements, hence his phrasing.

The opposition voiced no dissent. A deep voice from their array affirmed, "Agreed. Junior Brother You, return." "Yes!" You Jun acknowledged, withdrawing slowly to the Alliance Army. Zhao Hai summoned Jin Yong back, handing him a healing pill.

Then, another figure emerged from the foes' ranks. His identity was plain at once: a poisonous bug Valley member, betrayed by his garish floral attire. In the blood sea realm, only they donned such vibrant garb.

The poisonous bug Valley remained a notorious, thorny sect in the blood sea realm. Renowned for insect mastery, they equally excelled in poisons. Their venom arts were unmatched across the region. Every sect dreaded poisonous bug Valley affiliates to some degree. Dealing with them proved genuinely arduous.