Book 2 Chapter 48: The Protective Armament - Martial God

Chapter 48: The Protective Armament He Yitian took a deep breath, refusing to spare even a glance at the man in front of him, Fan Haori. Instead, he turned around and returned to his original position, saying loudly, "Father, I return victorious." He Quanxin laughed heartily, exclaiming, "Good, that's what it means to be a member of the He family." His words were full of unabashed praise, but inside, he was deeply astonished. He was well aware of Yitian's true abilities, yet he had progressed so astonishingly fast. Moreover, witnessing the intense internal energy exchange earlier left him even more bewildered. Yitian's stamina was so enduring that if the roles were reversed or if He had to control his internal energy at the seventh level against him, even he might have been exhausted by this seemingly endless energy. Of course, now wasn't the time for probing questions, so he kept his curiosity to himself for later. He Yitian, however, had his own understanding. Grateful, he glanced in the direction of his sixth brother, but unexpectedly paused. His brother stood there with an expression that was calm and detached, almost as if his thoughts were elsewhere. It was as if He Yiming wasn't even present—as though he could not even feel his brother's living aura. If not for his sight confirming his presence, he might have doubted whether anyone was really there. He was about to approach for a closer investigation when he heard a commotion behind him, unintentionally drawing his focus there. ※※※※ In a blur, Fan Shuhe appeared behind his son, gently patting his back, transmitting a robust internal energy over. Like the He family duo, the Fan father and son were a continuation of a lineage. Their shared water-element cultivation provided them with significant advantages in healing. However, Fan Haori abruptly pulled away, looking into Fan Shuhe's eyes, shaking his head with a hint of shame on his face. He said, "Father, I lost." Fan Shuhe looked at his son silently, the self-mocking sadness on his face weighing heavy on his heart. He knew, although his son outwardly appeared charming and was willing to humble himself in front of Lü Xinwen, deep down he harbored immense pride. Losing to a peer today was doubtlessly a major blow for him. At this moment, he clearly saw the loss and confusion in Fan Haori's eyes. He knew that if his son couldn't move past this, he might never make further progress. This realization was like a needle piercing his heart. Fan Shuhe’s expression calmed gradually, as if he'd made a significant decision when faced with a difficult choice. Patting his son's shoulder, Fan Shuhe was suddenly filled with an unprecedented vigor. He declared, "It's alright. I'll step in for you." Fan Haori was momentarily stunned, watching as Fan Shuhe strode forward. In this moment, his father's silhouette seemed so solid and reliable! Every step Fan Shuhe took was as steady as a mountain, as if a giant stone was moving, exuding an extreme steadiness. The expressions of Yuan Zeyu and others grew serious, filled with surprise. It was well known that Fan Shuhe was a tenth-level internal energy master of the water class. Yet at this moment, his footsteps bore no trace of the water element’s light and ethereal nature. However, this peculiarity only heightened the tension and unease among the crowd. A water-element master displaying such incredible force—what did it signify? He Yiming’s eyes fluttered slightly. He sensed a boundless battle will, an all-out fighting spirit without any reservation. In his brief sixteen years, He had encountered numerous masters—post-celestial and even innate level ones. Yet from none had he ever sensed this intense fighting will. A lone hero enraged—their fury spreading in a five-step radius. He Yiming unexpectedly found himself seized by such a terrifying sensation. Suddenly, he realized that this was a true master who had embraced a death-defying mindset, stepping onto the battlefield with utmost dedication. "Brother He, your son's skills are indeed impressive. I am impressed," remarked Fan Shuhe, smiling faintly. His expression was as calm and detached as if discussing a trivial matter. The smile on He Quanxin's face vanished entirely. He could clearly sense the strong dangerous aura emanating from this man. Yet at this moment, retreat wasn’t an option. "If Brother Fan wishes to test He’s skills, how could He refuse?" The crowd fell silent as He Quanxin stepped up to the challenge, feeling the tension rise among both sides. To most, He Quanxin and Fan Shuhe represented the final trump cards from each family. Once they decided the winner, the day's contest would essentially be concluded, and the ownership of Yuan’s manor would be determined by this very battle. When Fan Haori challenged He Yitian, many expected to see additional thrilling encounters. But unexpectedly, once that youthful battle concluded, Fan Shuhe eagerly stepped forward to challenge. The final showdown came so swiftly, so abruptly, that most were caught off guard. Just as He Quanxin was about to step forward, he heard He Yiming say, "Uncle, wait." Everyone paused, looking at him, unsure of his intentions. He Yiming walked a few steps forward, turning his back to the audience. Then he extended his hands, performing a rapid sequence of almost imperceptible gestures. Having trained in seal techniques, his hands were remarkably deft. This time, he put all his skills to use, moving so swiftly that all that remained was a trail of afterimages, leaving no trace once it was over. Softly, He said, "Uncle, be careful." That said, He Yiming returned to his original spot, once more immersing himself in a state where all his focus was gathered into a single point. He Quanxin sported a peculiar expression, clenching his fists before relaxing them, then rubbing them as though there was some discomfort. Without undue delay, he raised his head proudly, entering the center of the field. Yuan Zeyu and his son exchanged worried glances. They couldn’t fathom what had gotten into He Yiming, to pull such a stunt at this critical moment. Observing He Quanxin's expression and demeanor, he didn't appear to be in his prime condition; this upcoming match looked far from favorable. "Please." As He Quanxin cupped his fists and uttered the word "please," Fan Shuhe attacked. Their distance was the same as before, mirroring the setup when He Yitian and Fan Haori faced off. This was the standard distance for a formal duel. Fan Shuhe lifted his palm slightly, his heels rising gently as he pushed off, sliding forward. His movement mirrored Fan Haori’s initial approach, only his speed was faster, his movements more fluid, more akin to flowing water. From the stillness of a calm well, he became the agile flowing water of a great river. This sudden shift left everyone with a bizarre sense of conflict, as if Fan Shuhe had transformed or two completely different people were in action. He Quanxin showed no signs of relaxation, his response identical to He Yitian's—raising a palm, poised to meet the oncoming strike. With a light, muffled crash, their palms collided, unleashing unparalleled power within moments. Invisible waves of energy surged from under their feet, the ground fissuring from the clash of two tenth-level internal energy masters. He Quanxin stood like a boulder, withstanding the fierce assault, shakily yet unwaveringly holding his ground. Fan Shuhe, however, recoiled a step under the impact. Despite the prowess of his water-element technique, in terms of internal energy strength, he matched He Quanxin. Yet, due to the natural counteraction of their techniques, he was slightly at a disadvantage. However, Fan Shuhe's retreating foot barely touched the ground before he lunged forward again, this time thrusting with fingers shaped like a knife. The middle finger, in particular, gleamed brightly, resembling a drop of water reflecting sunlight. Adhering to the principle of maintaining steadiness against variability, He Quanxin raised his palm again, meeting the tip of the oncoming strike. Suddenly, He Quanxin's expression shifted subtly, for he had sensed an unusual force—a force that appeared soft as cotton, not overly strong, yet possessing a relentless determination, capable of piercing through anything it encountered. He Quanxin felt a creeping chill in his heart. Why did this sensation so strongly resemble the characteristics of a metal-element technique? Yet, the clash of inner energies assured him that Fan Shuhe was indeed using water-element energy without any deviation. Fan Shuhe retreated half a step and then advanced, thrusting his fingers like a knife with each movement, as if this simple strategy was his entire technique. Despite facing such a seemingly simple and almost monotonous approach, He Quanxin’s expression was intensely serious. His legs were slightly bent, firmly grounding himself to block every attack. Yet, all he could do was defend, unable to launch a single counterattack—not even a symbolic punch. In the face of this not-so-fast assault, He Quanxin found himself utterly powerless to retaliate. He Yiming’s eyebrows twitched slightly. He had focused all his spirit and true energy, heightening his sensory awareness to an extraordinary level. To him, Fan Shuhe no longer resembled the mighty river but was instead like droplets trickling down from a cliff. These small droplets, though inconspicuous, wielded undeniable power. Where mighty rivers roar and flood expansively, once they recede, the mountains and land remain unchanged. However, those tiny droplets descending from above are different. They may never reach the height capable of flooding large stones, but with persistence, they can achieve something miraculous—eroding rock, drop by drop. When the droplets continue endlessly over years, even the hardest rock will eventually succumb to their relentless force. At this moment, Fan Shuhe was compressing his internal energy to its utmost limit within his body, releasing it drop by precious drop, aiming to pierce through the colossal stone before him. Of course, this technique of forcibly compressing one's energy inevitably has adverse effects on the practitioner’s body. While short-term use is manageable, sustaining it for long periods even the strongest individual could not endure. Nevertheless, this self-sacrificial technique also possessed unimaginable power. Despite the elemental counteraction, Fan Shuhe had unquestionably gained the upper hand. This was clear not only to He Yiming but to anyone who had reached the seventh level of internal strength present. Fan Haori no longer wore a look of confusion and despondency. Instead, he was filled with excitement and guilt. In a flash, he understood the meaning behind his father’s earlier words. He realized his father was essentially wagering his own life for the outcome of this match. Through this act, he was loudly declaring to everyone, “My son has been harmed, and I will avenge him, even if it costs me my life.” In a daze, Fan Haori’s eyes shimmered with a crystalline light, his fists clenching tightly in a surge of emotion. He wished dearly to rush to the stage and stand in his father’s place. The negative impacts of his earlier defeat’s humiliation had completely dissipated. Feeling the growing strength of his internal energy, he even sensed that given more time to cultivate, he could breach the seventh level’s barrier and reach the eighth. Within the arena, He Quanxin finally faltered, taking an involuntary step back. When water's force accumulates to its peak, it, too, can become unstoppable. Fan Shuhe’s eyes gleamed, emitting a brilliant light. At this moment, the burning pain coursing through his meridians seemed insignificant. With a long howl, his steady form spun like flowing river water, unleashing waves of unending ferocity. A great stone, if standing firm, cannot be swept away by water. But with a weakened foundation, a single wave can carry it along. By gambling his life, Fan Shuhe had finally won. His fists rolled, transforming him into a fearsome torrent, overwhelming He Quanxin as if intending to drown him completely. He Quanxin lost his footing, sensing the peril. Yet, there was no viable recourse; all he could do was desperately defend against the tempestuous onslaught. But, in clashes between masters, falling behind meant an exceedingly slim chance of reclaiming the upper hand. As those fluttering butterfly-like palms surrounded him, He Quanxin eventually felt overwhelmed. Reluctantly, with a heavy heart, he let out a sigh, abruptly thrusting his arms outward like iron whips. Yuan Zeyu and his son's expressions shifted dramatically. Although He Quanxin was on the defensive, given the earth-element's strong defensive properties, maintaining a purely defensive posture might offer a slim opportunity for survival. Yet, at this crucial juncture, he chose to attack instead. Wasn’t this akin to courting disaster? Fan Shuhe’s eyes flashed with a vicious glint. Like boneless creatures, his palms slid over his opponent, confident in his ability to deflect the incoming force from that arm and, in the same moment of defenselessness, injure his foe, or even continue attacking until he achieved lethal success. His hands raised, one inside and one outside, exuding lethal intent—his formidable and fierce killing intent targeted directly at He Quanxin. He Yitian’s eyes turned crimson, clearly perceiving Fan Shuhe’s exposed murderous intent. In an instant, the two internal energy tenth-level masters reached a life-and-death juncture. As Fan Shuhe's palm made contact with He Quanxin's arm, his expression drastically changed, eyes widening in shock. A surging force emanated from He Quanxin’s arm. This was a powerful force, far beyond his imagination. In that moment, he questioned whether even a tenth-level metal-element master at the pinnacle of their power could exert such strength. Despite the worsening pain in his meridians, he could no longer afford to care. All his internal energy surged forward like a tide, striving to block the approaching arm. Block it, block it, but it couldn't be blocked... The arm, carrying unmatched might, broke through Fan Shuhe's defensive palm, striking heavily upon his chest. Fan Shuhe’s body flew up like it had wings, performing a large somersault in the air before landing softly. Fan Haori, swift as lightning, disregarded his injuries and dashed forth to catch his father tightly in his embrace. Fan Shuhe’s eyes were wide open, fixed intently on He Quanxin. At that moment, He Quanxin’s sleeve had been entirely shredded, revealing a golden, radiant protective armament below his elbow. A look of sudden realization appeared in Fan Shuhe's eyes. His lips quivered, leaving a trace of blood as he exhaled a long breath and then lost all breath.