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Chapter 4: Return of the War God

 Chapter 4: Three Punches, Just Three Punches!  


“Three punches to beat me? Hahaha... Ye Wuque, I thought you had some guts to challenge Murong Tian. Turns out, you’re just insane! What’s the matter? Can’t stand being trash for ten years anymore? Haha, trash is trash. It’s fine to daydream occasionally, but remember to keep your tail between your legs, or one day, I might squash you like a bug with a single finger! Hahaha...”  


The scar on Murong Tian’s left cheek twitched violently as he laughed wildly, finding Ye Wuque’s words as ridiculous as an ant attempting to swallow an elephant.  

 

The ridicule rose in waves. The five or six Murong family members who came with Murong Binglan also burst into laughter. Their faces mirrored disdain as they looked at Ye Wuque, standing tall and alone, their gazes full of scorn and contempt.  


Murong Binglan’s delicate face wore a mocking smile. She, who once had a marriage agreement with Ye Wuque, considered it a great shame and had always harbored resentment over it.  


As the daughter of Murong Changqing and the princess of the Murong family, she had privately sought her father countless times to annul the engagement, but to no avail. Each failure only deepened her hatred for Ye Wuque.  


In her heart, she believed that Ye Wuque clung desperately to the engagement, refusing to let go, fantasizing about marrying her when he turned eighteen.  


The engagement matter was beyond interference from outsiders. Despite her hatred and resentment, Murong Binglan had no choice but to endure it—until Murong Tian appeared.  


Murong Binglan held great admiration for this cousin of hers. His unparalleled talent was recognized throughout the Murong family, and his handsome appearance only added to his appeal. His occasional deliberate flattery had already captured her heart. Naturally, when Murong Tian promised to help her annul the engagement, she was more than willing.  


That led to the showdown in the martial arts arena. However, despite everything unfolding as planned, the humiliation, bitterness, and desperation she expected from Ye Wuque were absent. Instead, he was calm, even delighted, and openly requested Murong Changqing to revoke the engagement.  


In front of everyone, Ye Wuque’s words nearly made Murong Binglan faint from rage, her hatred for him reaching its peak. Who would have thought that this so-called trash would have the nerve to challenge Tian-ge?  


While everyone else dismissed it as the futile resistance of a cornered loser, Murong Binglan saw it differently. She believed it was Ye Wuque’s way of disgusting her, of getting back at her.  


“Ye Wuque, how dare a piece of trash like you humiliate me and even challenge Tian-ge? Today, I’ll make sure you know what regret feels like!”  


Her eyes turned icy, her thoughts racing. The mocking smile on her lips twisted into a cold sneer as she vowed to witness Ye Wuque being trampled like a dead dog.  


“Had enough laughing? Fight or move aside. It’s early morning, and good dogs don’t block the way. How annoying.”  


As the crowd continued laughing, Ye Wuque’s calm voice cut through. He slowly lowered his raised right fist, stood with his hands behind his back, and regained his composed demeanor. The earlier sharpness and dominance seemed to vanish, leaving only a pair of bright eyes. As the breeze swept by, his black martial robe fluttered gently, and his solitary figure exuded an unrestrained air.  


To Murong Hai, Ye Wuque now seemed shrouded in an inexplicable aura, a stark contrast to his arrogant demeanor in the martial arts arena the previous day. It left Murong Hai feeling as though Ye Wuque had become unfathomable.  


Startled by his own thoughts, Murong Hai’s expression turned cold. His muscular frame tensed, his fists clenched slightly, and a hint of malice flickered in his eyes.  


“Yesterday, I held back, afraid I might kill you if I hit too hard. That’s why I defeated you in just three moves. Since you claim you can beat me in three punches, I won’t hold back today.”  


“Boom!”  


“Take this! Ground Fiend Tiger Roar Fist!”  


With a roar, Murong Hai’s blood surged, and his vital energy shook. His towering body lunged forward in three quick steps, his right fist clenched tightly. As he shouted, a faint tiger’s roar resounded, and the silhouette of a fierce tiger, a full ten feet tall, materialized behind him. His blood and energy surged, his body at the pinnacle of the Eighth Stage of Body Refinement.  


“Roar!”  


The stone slabs beneath his feet cracked as Murong Hai charged like a tiger descending the mountain. His punch, aimed squarely at Ye Wuque, tore through the air with a deafening roar.  


“A middle-grade martial technique? The Ground Fiend Tiger Roar Fist? Murong Hai is taking this trash too seriously!”  


“Using such a technique on a Body Refinement Fifth Stage loser like Ye Wuque is such a waste!”  


“No kidding! But he deserves it for running his mouth. This punch will probably have him bedridden for three months!”  


The Murong disciples murmured among themselves, surprised at Murong Hai’s seriousness.  


Only Murong Binglan, arms crossed and lips curled in a cold smile, faintly sensed that Murong Hai’s attack wasn’t just a simple lesson for Ye Wuque.  


“Lie down!”  


Murong Hai’s venomous glare revealed his true intentions as his punch closed in on Ye Wuque, stopping just inches from his body.  


Ye Wuque, still calm, tightened his right fist and raised it slowly. Just as Murong Hai’s punch was about to land, Ye Wuque struck back with an unassuming punch.  


In Murong Binglan’s triumphant eyes, the clash of fists exploded.  


“Boom!”  


But in the next instant, disbelief flashed across her delicate face.  


“How...how is this possible?”  


The same words echoed in Murong Hai’s mind. His expression turned even grimmer as he felt an inexplicably terrifying force from Ye Wuque’s seemingly casual punch!  


“Screech!”  


Murong Hai’s feet skidded across the ground, the strange power driving him backward with the same speed he had attacked. Despite his efforts to stabilize, he couldn’t resist the force.  


“Thud! Thud! Thud!”  


After retreating six steps, Murong Hai finally stopped, coincidentally back at his starting point.  


Their fists had collided, yet it was Murong Hai who retreated six steps, while Ye Wuque hadn’t even budged.  


“Gasp...”  

Sounds of sharp intakes of breath filled the air as the five or six Murong disciples stared in shock, their expressions frozen in disbelief.


“What did I just see? Ye Wuque actually forced Murong Hai back with one punch?”


“This must be an illusion! The power of the Earth Fiend Tiger Fist is its ability to channel all one’s strength into the fists, unleashing force twice as powerful as usual. Yet Ye Wuque didn’t even flinch? How is this possible?”


“Could it be Murong Hai went easy on him?”


Murong Binglan, arms crossed, stared at Murong Hai, her beautiful eyes filled with disbelief. She wanted to understand what had just happened.


A tremor.


She noticed Murong Hai’s right arm trembling, and in an instant, she realized this was no act. He hadn’t gone easy on Ye Wuque. Instead, the so-called useless youth had genuinely forced Murong Hai back with a single punch!


Murong Hai’s expression darkened as he glared at Ye Wuque, his scarred face flushing with tension. Pain and numbness coursed through his right arm, leaving him momentarily stunned, as though struck by lightning.


“The power of the Sacred Battle Qi truly is extraordinary,” Ye Wuque muttered to himself, his voice so low that only he could hear it. Staring at his right fist, his previously calm eyes lit up with excitement, sharp and determined like blades.  


“Ye Wuque! You’re not at the fifth level of Body Refining! You’ve reached the sixth!” Murong Hai shouted, his voice trembling with shock. The realization shook him to the core. From that single punch, he discerned that Ye Wuque’s cultivation was not at the fifth level, as everyone believed, but had advanced to the sixth level—muscle refinement mastery.


Just yesterday, Ye Wuque was at the fifth level.  

....
This novel is translated by the Eternal Novel Hits translators. Please read it at https://eternalnovelhits.blogspot.com
....

No—more accurately, Ye Wuque had been stuck at the fifth level for the past ten years.


But that wasn’t the most shocking part. What truly astounded Murong Hai was that Ye Wuque, now at the sixth level, had forced him—a practitioner at the eighth level with mastery of bone refinement—back with a single punch. Crossing two entire levels in combat was something Murong Hai found impossible to accept.


Challenging higher levels of cultivation? How could that be?


“I don’t believe it! That was a fluke! I don’t believe it! How could someone like me, Murong Hai, be forced back by a nobody? Earth Fiend Tiger Fist! *Tiger Shatters the World!*”  


“Roar!”


A deafening tiger’s roar erupted behind Murong Hai as his eyes turned bloodshot. With a fierce stomp, he propelled himself into the air. The tiger shadow behind him engulfed his figure entirely, exuding a ferocious aura.


Sensing the surging might from Murong Hai, Murong Binglan and the other disciples paled. It was clear that Murong Hai, humiliated by the earlier exchange, was no longer holding back.


“Earth Fiend Tiger Fist, is it? How coincidental. I know it too. This is the second punch: *Tiger Shatters the World!*”

....
This novel is translated by the Eternal Novel Hits translators. Please read it at https://eternalnovelhits.blogspot.com
....

With a thunderous shout, Ye Wuque’s demeanor shifted. His eyes sharpened, his expression turned fierce, and his body surged with the energy of the Sacred Battle Qi. His dantian pulsed with golden-red energy, as his battle qi surged with boundless vitality, triggering an explosive transformation within him.


“Boom! Boom!”


Bending slightly, Ye Wuque gathered all his strength. Golden-red energy coursed through his body as his figure leaped into the air. A tiger shadow appeared behind him as well—this one gleaming in radiant gold.


Unlike Murong Hai’s striped ferocity, Ye Wuque’s tiger exuded divine majesty. It roared, its golden figure slicing through the air toward Murong Hai.


The two tiger shadows clashed midair, unleashing shockwaves that rippled outward, enveloping the surrounding area in golden mist. The roars of their tigers intertwined, echoing powerfully.


“Roar!”


Suddenly, a tiger’s anguished roar filled the air, followed by a loud crash. The tiger shadow dissipated as a figure tumbled from its core, landing heavily on the ground.


Murong Binglan gasped, her wide eyes filled with disbelief as she recognized the disheveled figure—it was Murong Hai.


“Boom!”


Murong Hai staggered to his feet, clutching his chest as pain surged through his body. His face was pale, and his scarred cheek twitched uncontrollably. Looking at the figure descending from above, his eyes no longer held rage or resentment but fear—and a trace of awe.


“Buzz!”


The mist parted as Ye Wuque’s figure emerged, his piercing gaze locking onto Murong Hai. His aura blazed, sharp and indomitable, as if he were a god of war descended upon the battlefield.


“Murong Hai, the third punch is coming. Let’s see if I can break you!” Ye Wuque shouted.  


With a light step on the ground, he propelled himself forward like a streak of lightning, his right fist surging with terrifying force.

The force of the punch surged through the air, accompanied by a sharp crackle as it tore through the void!


Sensing the overwhelming dominance of the attack, Murong Hai’s fear intensified, and a fleeting thought of escape flashed through his mind. Yet, as his gaze fell on Murong Binglan, he saw her trembling figure, her beautiful eyes fixed on Ye Wuque in utter disbelief, as if she were witnessing something unimaginable.


"Ye Wuque!"


The name burst from Murong Hai’s lips, his eyes flickering with malice. Crushing the urge to flee, he channeled all his energy, blood pounding in his veins, and clenched his fist tightly, swinging it toward Ye Wuque’s advancing form.


“Bang!”


Another thunderous clash of fists resounded. Ye Wuque’s eyes were razor-sharp, while Murong Hai’s body trembled violently. His face flushed crimson.


“Pfft!”


A mouthful of blood spurted from Murong Hai as his body was thrown backward uncontrollably. This time, he couldn’t stop himself, his figure crashing hard onto the stone-paved ground, rolling helplessly until he came to a halt in front of Murong Binglan.


“Pfft!”


Another spurt of blood escaped his lips, splattering onto Murong Binglan’s red dress. Murong Hai now lay like a beaten dog at her feet, his face ashen, utterly drained of strength.


Murong Binglan’s pale face showed no trace of her usual cold arrogance. Instead, her expression was marked by disbelief and fear. Her gaze turned toward Ye Wuque, who stood quietly, his demeanor calm and composed. Yet inside her, a storm raged uncontrollably, her emotions in turmoil.


Behind Murong Binglan, the five or six Murong disciples were trembling, their legs weak, their throats dry, unable to utter a word. Their expressions were filled with terror.


Standing calmly, Ye Wuque’s piercing gaze landed on the struggling Murong Hai, who seemed desperate to rise. In a calm voice, he declared, “I said three punches to crush you, and it was three punches.”


He then took a step forward, walking straight toward Murong Binglan.


“Ye Wuque! What... what are you trying to do? I warn you, don’t act recklessly, or else…” Murong Binglan stammered, panic flashing across her usually icy face. If Murong Hai, with his eighth-level bone refinement mastery, couldn’t withstand Ye Wuque’s punches, she, at the seventh level, stood no chance.


Her chest rose and fell with each anxious breath as she watched Ye Wuque approach. She struggled to remain composed, but the sight of Murong Hai sprawled like a defeated dog caused a chill to creep into her heart.


However, Ye Wuque merely walked past her without even sparing her a glance.


Ignored.


To Murong Binglan, his complete disregard felt like a slap to her pride, igniting waves of humiliation and resentment that eclipsed her fear. Her emotions surged to a breaking point, then suppressed the terror in her heart. Turning sharply, she shouted at Ye Wuque’s retreating figure, “Ye Wuque! You useless trash! Just you wait! In a month, Tian-ge will crush you under his foot!”


Her words echoed clearly, reaching Ye Wuque’s ears. But he didn’t pause, his sharp gaze flickering faintly with anticipation.


“Murong Tian, is it? Heh, I can’t wait.”

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