Chapter 358: Ming Garments and Japanese Attire

Chapter 358: Ming Attire and Wa Raiment

Looking at the frozen brass knuckles whistling straight toward his face, a deep, primal dread flickered in Matsuyama’s eyes. He knew all too well that his physique felt so fragile in Li Jun’s hands largely because of this purely offensive Mohist armor.

The moment the vicious wind bit into his face, Matsuyama gritted his teeth, his entire body snapping sideways in an impossible, spineless contortion, barely grazing past Li Jun’s fist.

Like a swallow skimming water, like a serpent gliding through grass.

Matsuyama's collapsed frame suddenly went taut, seizing the momentum to wedge himself against Li Jun's flank, his twin fists striking out separately at the face and abdomen.

Li Jun let out a furious snort, and blue armor surfaced across his bare upper torso, stacking layer upon layer as a savage aura rippled outward.

Bang!

Li Jun arched his back slightly, enduring Matsuyama's abdominal punch with the raw heft of his Abyssal Whale Armor, while the other fist hurtling toward his face was shattered once more by his own brass knuckles.

The crisp snap of splintering bone and the muffled groan of surging blood sounded simultaneously.

Li Jun’s expression tightened; Matsuyama’s punch was far heavier than he had anticipated, and among all the serialized fighters he had slain, it was only half a notch inferior to the Wild Desolation Xia Hu of the Sect’s Sequence Five.

That a meticulously tempered physique could actually be overtaken by cultivated, bio-engineered flesh could not help but evoke a sense of solemn irony.

Perhaps even without that 'Division of Martial Arts' that had swept through the entire Great Ming Empire, the Sect Martial Sequence was destined to lose its supreme, uncontested monopoly sooner or later.

Having the audacity to choose confrontation over flight after being ambushed, Matsuyama naturally possessed the leverage to back it up.

After all, many of the auxiliary organs inside his body were bred and improved using the genetic material of Martial Sequence casualties he had personally slain as 'seeds'.

Even within Matsuyama's strongest form, the Red Insect Imprint avatar, those 'seeds' had begun to root and sprout, which was exactly how he had forced Chen Qisheng to expend his absolute last resort—a lightning strike—while being double-teamed by the Daoist Sequence Six and the newly upgraded King Ma.

The Spring Emperor commands the creation of all things, the universe within his belly is my peer.

Having finally traded injuries successfully, Matsuyama’s eyes blazed with a savage light, his face twisting into an even deeper grimace as he relentlessly pursued Li Jun's vitals, leaving his own chest wide open, abandoning all defense for pure offense.

Within a ribcage invisible to the naked eye, two hearts pumped a frantic torrent of blood, while greenish-black veins wrapped around iron-wrought muscles over his limbs, driving his injury recovery speed to the absolute limit like a fierce beast unafraid of death, briefly matching Li Jun stride for stride.

"This shouldn't be happening. Did I miscalculate just now? Could it be that I added the wrong variable? No, that's not right either, it's an Agriculture Sequence Five against a Rogue Martial Sequence Six..."

Zou Sijiu watched the gridlocked battlefield not far away, his previously calm face turning somewhat pale and unsightly, his slouched frame involuntarily straightening.

"Should I... calculate the odds of running away?"

In a theater of war like this, which disregarded all strategy and demanded only raw bloodlust, his status as a Dream-Eating Baize of the Yin-Yang Sequence Six left him with very little room to maneuver.

Just as the expressions shifted across Zou Sijiu’s face, a crisp, chilling voice suddenly rang out.

"Chonglou, Rise."

Thud!

A sound that made the chest feel heavy and stifled, like a fist slamming into deep mire, echoed out.

Zou Sijiu snapped his eyes up, only to see Matsuyama’s right arm—from the knuckles all the way to the shoulder—look as though it had been run over by a heavy chariot, the flesh and bone completely ruptured and mangled.

Shattered bone flew wide, and droplets of blood splattered everywhere.

Only a few connected threads of bloody flesh whipped about frantically, attempting to re-coalesce into a complete, solid muscle.

Matsuyama seemed entirely possessed; the bone-corroding agony caused his regenerative abilities to explode further, and the two arms on his back finally restored themselves at this moment, encircling Li Jun from left and right, while his surviving left arm smashed violently toward Li Jun’s skull.

"Come on!"

An identical streak of outlaw savagery surfaced on Li Jun’s face as he used both elbows to block Matsuyama’s embrace, swinging his head forward to slam his frontal bone directly into the oncoming fist.

Thud!

Matsuyama’s left hand snapped back and broke, jagged bone splintering through the skin.

Blood masked Li Jun's face, yet a cold smile hung from the corner of his mouth.

When it came to trading brutality and malice, when had Li Jun, who had walked the path of a Rogue Martial Sequence, ever known fear?

A dark shadow shot skyward from the gap between the two men; Li Jun’s right leg thrust upward like a vicious flood dragon emerging from the abyss, slamming brutally into Matsuyama’s jaw.

Bang!

Matsuyama’s cervical vertebrae were violently jerked backward by the immense force, a mouthful of blood spraying toward the sky as the two arms shackling Li Jun went limp and released their hold.

Regaining his freedom, Li Jun stepped into the space with a body check, driving an elbow into the chest and a knee into the abdomen, his footwork shifting fluidly as his form swayed to Matsuyama’s flank, his right brass knuckles roaring into the side of the man's belly.

Breathless from the barrage of heavy strikes, Matsuyama’s body suddenly bounced upwards, a full inch off the ground, as a massive amount of blood mixed with visceral fragments coughed out from his nose and mouth.

But what truly terrified him was a fierce, unseen internal force rampaging through his body that he had never encountered before!

This was the true root cause suppressing his regenerative abilities!

Chonglou rises, and what follows is the absolute peak!

Li Jun shifted his fist into a claw, twisting his waist and dropping his hips to seize one of the left arms growing from Matsuyama’s back, utilizing the rotational force of his spinning torso to rip it clean off.

Splat!

Deep crimson blood drenched Li Jun's face, his tongue extending uncontrollably through the gaps of his teeth, craving to lick the vivid poison within arm's reach, only to be sheared clean through by two rows of suddenly snapping white teeth.

The piercing pain brought a fraction of clarity back to Li Jun’s manic mind, but his left hand locked onto Matsuyama’s face with extreme malice, tearing downward.

"Ah!"

A harrowing shriek tore from Matsuyama’s throat, blood streaming from both eyes as his form staggered backward, only to be swept off his feet by Li Jun's leg. Seizing the opening to press down, Li Jun's left hand, still caked in filth, locked onto Matsuyama’s face once more and ground it straight downward!

The Fierce Tiger Hard-Climbs the Mountain!

Matsuyama’s unhealed neck snapped once again, his head hanging limply off his shoulder, while his barely formed nose and mouth were torn to shreds, leaving his entire face a bloody, unrecognizable pulp.

Yet even with injuries so severe, Matsuyama still did not draw his last breath, his limply dilated eyes entirely filled with terror and panic.

When Chonglou reaches its zenith, it brings the collapse of heaven and earth!

A succession of fists wrapped in the domineering internal force of Chonglou battered Matsuyama’s body, producing a dense clatter like torrential rain pounding on rooftop tiles.

Great pools of blood soaked through beneath his convulsing, twitching frame, melting the accumulated snow and being swallowed whole by the thirsty earth.

Whoosh!

Li Jun’s final downward punch hovered right before Matsuyama’s hollow, despondent eyes, the surging force of the fist producing a sharp crack as the motion ground to a sudden halt.

From the blood-soaked brass knuckles, blackened crimson fluid slowly gathered and dripped, landing with a soft patter right between Matsuyama’s brows.

"The sky above Inuyama Castle... you birds of Honghu cannot overturn it!"

The words fell, and the fist descended.

[Gained 100 Proficiency Points]

A line of tiny black characters surfaced before Li Jun’s eyes, the genetic code buried deep within his core growing restless, repeatedly battering that invisible gateway.

Unfortunately, though a crack had appeared in the door, the shackles remained unbroken; the subsequent genetic traits of the Rogue Martial Sequence still could not break through to claim a new life.

Li Jun extracted his fist from the deep crater littered with flesh fragments, slowly straightening his spine. He now possessed every single requirement needed to break the lock and advance his sequence, lacking only the final catalyst for ascension.

The true ritual that could rouse the dormant genes of the Rogue Martial Sequence Five from their slumber! A shock severe enough to make the soul tremble!

A single Agriculture Sequence Five Spring Emperor Command was clearly insufficient to meet such a demand.

Where the path lay, Li Jun had no answer in his heart at this moment, nor did he have the time to ponder where such an answer might be found.

Li Jun raised his eyes, and at the crest of the mountain cliff, a magnificent and domineering figure stood tall!

The black haori draped over the shoulders danced in the wind, three dragon scales at the brow flowed with golden light, and the bewitching tattoos of gods and demons on both arms looked like living things under the illumination of the fire, brandishing forks and halberds, sinister and terrifying.

It turned out the variable I’d miscalculated was him!

Zou Siu, like a startled rabbit, dragged the massive embroidered spring blade, ducking low and sprinting behind Li Jun.

“Why didn’t you devour him? Didn’t you feel that craving too?”

Huang Shi pointed at the corpse at Li Jun’s feet. “Swallow the gene of this agrarian emperor of the Five Seasons, and you’ll break the Martial Order’s seal to ascend.”

“The lock on the door sect’s martial order—your path?”

Li Jun’s fists clenched and unclenched, trying to stir the blood frozen by terror in his veins.

“Paths are paths—what’s the difference?”

“One is a dead-end abyss; the other, a path to the heavens.”

Li Jun’s gaze was cold. “If it were you, which would you choose?”

“I have no choice.”

Huang Shi chuckled bitterly. “Yet the abyss you see is the path I’ve long yearned for. How ironic.”

He paused, half-smiling. “Still, you’ve chosen to part ways, splitting the tide into front and back. From now on, we’re enemies.”

“The kettle of the Martial Order can’t hold two ladlefuls of rice. You and I are destined to clash. No need for pretense here.”

Li Jun scoffed. “And in this dog mountain city, I have plenty of friends—yourself not exactly a shortage.”

No sooner had his words settled than a gust of wind whispered behind him.

“Never thought the lord of one of the four great companies in the Wa region, Huang Shi, would sneak into Dog Mountain City alone. What a rare spectacle. Shall I spread the word through the Wa region’s Imperial Guard? Let everyone come see the show.”

Zhou An sat beside Li Jun, his thick bandages wrapped around his white face, pale as moonlight, yet his eyes blazed with a strange, piercing light.

“A seventh-state investigator, Qin Order—no, you call him a friend? The one who wouldn’t even bow to a dead man?”

Huang Shi crossed his arms, his long hair whipping in the wind.

“The Patriarch said he detected a stench unfit for a sage. Turns out it’s the odor of a Wa man’s breath.”

A figure stumbled from behind Li Jun—a rag-clad Daoist beggar, Chen Qisheng, crouching lazily. A faint, dark-blue flame flickered above his head, revealing a black sword as dark as midnight.

Huang Shi’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the Daoist master nearly killed by Lao Yangcun?”

“I owe that blacksmith a debt I’ll settle soon. But the Patriarch, I’m not just a Daoist master—I’m also the special guest strategist of Dog Mountain City’s Imperial Guard, Chen Qisheng!”

Three carved jade talismans glowed behind him, radiating a ghostly green light.

Huang Shi sneered. “Pretending to be grand, yet still commanding the Daoist Patriarch?”

“The Patriarch said it, so it is.”

Chen Qisheng flicked his fingers. “If you doubt it, try.”

“My master, my master~”

A cheerful voice erupted from the tiger-claw on Li Jun’s fist.

“My little one, my master will play with you soon.”

The black armor advanced, its front plates peeling open like petals, encasing Li Jun’s bare torso.

A red eye materialized above Li Jun’s brow, booming with a furious old voice: “The second special guest strategist of Dog Mountain City’s Imperial Guard, Duke Ma!”

“Goddamn it, what a messed-up day—how many people came running to die for me?”

A guttural voice growled from the distance, blood-soaked and feral. The stench of death clung to Fan Wujue, who finally arrived at Li Jun’s right side.

His embroidered spring blade was chipped, its ‘Back Steep’ ridge still reeking of gunpowder.

“So you’re Huang Shi?”

Zou Siu landed last, his expression solemn, hands smoothing his disheveled hair.

The Martial Order, though not part of the Yellow Flood, couldn’t match the resolve to die for the balance of life and death?

“Loyalty is admirable.”

Huang Shi’s smile remained scornful. “But a mere fish remains a fish, no matter how many school together—they’ll never stir a storm.”

“If you doubt it, try.”

Li Jun repeated Chen Qisheng’s words, scooping up mud mixed with fresh blood from Mount Song. “This spot has good feng shui—perfect for burying you.”

The armor plates parted, stirring the air, brushing Li Jun’s murderous eyes.

The tiger-claw on his fist blazed cold light; beside him, the great blade trembled.

An old man with white hair gnawed his teeth, his iron-clad heart a grinning monster.

The black sword tugged the flame, the talismans aligned with the endless night.

Chen Qisheng and Zou Siu stood back-to-back, locking eyes. The three floating jade talismans enclosed them.

At that moment, the storm and snow ceased.

The sky cleared, a single star—small yet brilliant—hovered above the cliff.

“To die for our cause, to burn our boats!”

Huang Shi fell silent, then laughed deeply. “If not for the schism over orders, perhaps I’d have been your Imperial Guard strategist here.”

“The Imperial Guard wears bright robes, not Wa garb.”

Li Jun replied coolly, crimson blood oozing from his fist.

Huang Shi’s smile faded, his eyes cold. He stared at Li Jun. “Next time, we’ll see which robes—yours or mine—earn the title ‘Flowers on Silk.’”

Boom!

The cliff shattered, dust and snow swirling as the ruins collapsed.

The tattoos of the god and warrior receded, their forms merging with the night.

Fan Wujue crumpled, powerless.

Zhou An exhaled sharply, pain etched on his face.

Chen Qisheng glanced at the oncoming black armor, raised his hands, and dodged.

“Zou Siu, you fool—you came to die!”

“My master, it’s not my fault. She insisted on this.”

Zou Siu fled, legs pumping.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?”

Li Jun said nothing, merely watching the distant city’s flames die out.

Yet in his heart, a furnace burned ever hotter.