C8 like a Fierce Tiger

Wang Jian's cronies immediately sprang into action behind him. Some attended to Wang Jian's wounds while others confronted Wang Feng.

At that moment, Wang Feng felt a boundless surge of energy within him. The Celestial Nine Revolution Technique was fiercely circulating in sync with his combative body!

Among those present, including Wang Jian, none could claim the status of a six-star Warrior. Wang Jian, having the advantage of his father's position as an Outer Sect Manager and a regular intake of pills, had achieved upper-level Warrior strength. Yet, when it came to sheer power, Wang Feng's combined abilities rivaled that of a one-star Blademaster, making him an overwhelming force against Wang Jian. Despite significant shortcomings in speed and cultivation, Wang Feng's physique remained exceptionally powerful.

Wang Feng silently resolved, "Without the proper level, all this effort is in vain!" Clenching his fists, he launched a fierce punch at the nearest of Wang Jian's henchmen.

"Come on! Let's fight!" Wang Feng bellowed with unbridled enthusiasm.

The henchman's face was a bloody mess from Wang Feng's punch. Without a moment's hesitation or a shred of mercy, Wang Feng's longsword quivered as he precisely targeted the vital points of the man he had just struck.

The blood-red sword blossoms that unfurled were like roses blooming in the wind, captivating and fiery, drawing admiration despite their grim origin in the defeat of a lackey.

At that moment, Wang Jian stood frozen in shock, completely still, his green robe soaked through with sweat, creating vast patches that resembled rivers and lakes. It dawned on him that this was no longer the submissive Wang Feng he once knew.

Wang Feng channeled his Qi into his palms, which had become as hard as iron. The palm winds danced as the Celestial Nine Revolution Technique whirled within his dantian. To his amazement, Wang Feng discovered that his physical constitution was being fortified with each clash against the lackeys, his Celestial Nine Revolution Technique enhancing his resilience. Every strike served as a rigorous exercise.

In less than the time it took to sip a cup of tea, Wang Jian's cronies were all sprawled on the ground, defeated, with no one left to challenge us.

It was difficult to believe that the usually timidly smiling youth could now make everyone who looked up at him feel as though they were facing a bloodthirsty despot.

"You... don't come any closer!" Wang Jian scrambled backward as Wang Feng advanced steadily, his gaze fixed unyieldingly on Wang Jian.

"Do you realize my father is the steward of the Imperial Residence, and my brother is the top expert of the Outer Sect? If you dare to kill me, my brother will flay you alive, drink your blood, and dismember you!"

"The top expert of the Outer Sect? You think I'm scared? He's merely a Blademaster; there's nothing to fear."

"The essence of martial cultivation lies in clarity of mind and possessing a heart that is strong, resolute, and unafraid of challenges. With such a spirit, one's progress in cultivation can soar. This is the path Wang Feng has chosen."

Wang Feng, observing the terrified Wang Jian, turned the tables with a smile, "I never thought Young Master Jian could feel fear! How amusing."

For any person, torture is the most excruciating method of suffering—living a fate worse than death. For a warrior, what could be more frightening in their martial journey than being stripped of their abilities and reduced to an ordinary person? In a world that venerates the strong, such an existence would be intolerable.

Wang Jian, seeing Wang Feng draw his longsword, was struck by terror. He was about to be crippled, his decades of cultivation wasted, and the once proud warrior would be demoted to a mere commoner.

"No! This can't be happening," Wang Jian thought, as he quickly retrieved a messenger tube from his waist, attempting to send a silent plea for help.

But with a resounding clang, Wang Feng's sword struck, sending the messenger tube flying. There would be no call for help.

In just a few short moments, the flash of the sword created a dozen blood-red blossoms, like flickering flames of enchantment.

"No! Wang Feng, just you wait for my return! This vendetta is irreconcilable! I will make you endure every humiliation!" Wang Jian wailed as he screamed.

Wang Feng's gaze was devoid of any emotion, as though he hadn't heard a word. His demeanor was icy, his movements as he drew and sheathed his sword were serene. Fear was foreign to him; in his past life within the ancient Aethervein, he had witnessed all manner of bizarre occurrences. Having seen his fair share of bloodshed, crippling a few cultivators was trivial to him.

With a resounding "clang," the longsword that Wang Jian habitually wore at his waist was flung back by Wang Feng, embedding itself an inch deep into the ground.

"If you feel wronged, then send your brother to face me. Tell him he's nothing but trash, and dare him to come at me!" Wang Feng taunted.

Leaving the back mountain, Wang Feng departed, leaving behind only Wang Jian and his cronies, their bodies now useless. Wang Feng had severed their eight extra-channels. Though he had contemplated ending Wang Jian's life, the Wang family's foremost rule prohibited kin from slaying one another, with violators facing exile.

Thus, Wang Feng spared Wang Jian, undeterred by the knowledge that Wang Jian's brother, Wang Ming, was the top contender of the Outer Sect, and their father managed the affairs of the Outer Sect. He had resolved to cripple Wang Jian regardless, for a true man lives for the thrill of righteous vengeance. What was there to fear?