Chapter 463 - 437: It’s Arrogance If You Can’t, a Statement If You Can

The black-clothed youth in the teahouse was, of course, Song Ciwan.

A moment ago, it was she who had flicked a wisp of Qi Force from her fingertip. It shot past the Leather Armor Martial Artist’s neck, then pierced through dozens of walls, continuing far, far into the distance.

The act was so sudden and bizarre, so terrifyingly dangerous, that it was nothing short of a blatant villain’s deed.

The Leather Armor Martial Artist mustered his courage to demand why Song Ciwan had done such a thing. Song Ciwan merely offered a faint smile, her voice as sharp and cold as cutting gold and shattering jade.

She spoke, "It’s true we have no grievance or grudge. However, in this world, anyone who attempts to enter a Spirit Realm Secret Realm—be they Human or demon, or any species at all—will find themselves under my three-foot blade.

You can all try to go. If you don’t, then fine. But if you do, let’s see whose precious neck is faster than the blade in my hand!

Of course, for a bunch of useless rabble like you, perhaps I won’t even need to draw my blade. After all, you’re all trash, extinguishable with a mere flick of my finger."

After saying this, she actually let out a soft laugh. "Heh."

Her tone was faint, her laugh was soft, yet every word, every syllable she uttered was so arrogant it sent a chill to the bone.

It was enough to make a Buddha explode with rage!

Look at that! Just look! What kind of things was this person saying?

What did he mean by "useless rabble"? What did he mean, "all trash"?

And that final laugh... if he hadn’t laughed, it might have been fine. But that laugh was pure gasoline on a fire, instantly igniting the temper of every Martial Artist present!

The Heaven and Earth Scale appeared automatically, and clumps of human desires flew toward it like a blizzard.

The broad chest of the Leather Armor Martial Artist, the first to mention the Spirit Realm Secret Realm, began to heave violently. The thin line of blood on his neck had initially sapped most of his courage, but now, a towering rage flooded his Spirit Platform. He could no longer restrain himself.

He raised his hand and slammed it down. BANG!

The ironwood tea table beside him, a full three inches thick, was shattered to pieces by that single palm strike.

CLATTER! The fragments of the ironwood table scattered across the floor.

The Leather Armor Martial Artist immediately spun around and in a single instant, charged right up to Song Ciwan.

His Cultivation was at Innate First Transformation. A level like that was nothing in Song Ciwan’s eyes, but in truth, to the common people, an Innate Martial Artist was already considered a first-class expert.

As the Leather Armor Martial Artist charged, the crowd scrambled to get away, including many ordinary people below the Innate realm who were shouting in panic.

The screams rose and fell, forming a unique sort of accompaniment to the scene.

Numerous tea tables blocked the way, but as the Leather Armor Martial Artist charged, they were all either kicked aside or shattered. A scorching Qi Blood Power erupted from his body like a signal fire. Seeing this, the hearts of the onlookers began to pound, and they felt an immense pressure.

The crowd’s screams grew even more frantic.

"AAAHH!"

"Help!"

"Move, get out of the way!"

Even more human desires surged toward the Heaven and Earth Scale.

[Human Desires: The fury, apprehension, and resentment of an Innate First Transformation Martial Artist. Five Jin and Two Taels. Exchangeable.]

[Human Desires: The indignation, shame, and madness of an Innate First Transformation Martial Artist. Four Jin and Three Taels. Exchangeable.]

Among the many human desires flying in, two clumps were particularly conspicuous.

’Though they’re only from Innate First Transformation Martial Artists, they have achieved Qi Over Five Jin, which makes them special. An unexpected harvest.’

It all happened in a flash. The Leather Armor Martial Artist reached the black-clothed youth, but the youth remained calmly seated, his face as cold as snow, his expression faint and aloof.

Someone in the teahouse blurted out with satisfaction, "This kid has no idea what he’s gotten into. He must be scared stupid."

Having reached Song Ciwan, the Leather Armor Martial Artist’s attack was fully charged. He roared, "You arrogant little brat, eat a punch from your granddaddy!"

BOOM!

The Qi Blood in his body billowed like flames, converging around his massive, basin-sized fist. At its peak, the churning energy actually formed the head of a ferocious tiger.

An Innate First Transformation Martial Artist, yet he could already condense his Qi Blood to the point of giving it shape.

One could tell that while he was only an Innate First Transformation, his Cultivation must have reached the peak of that stage, nearing the Second Transformation.

The onlookers all held their breath. Some even began to cheer. "Yeah! Brother Wu really is the top dog of our Three Paths Street! Beat that kid to a pulp and let’s see him act so smug!"

The fist was about to connect, yet the black-clothed youth still hadn’t moved from his seat.

The force of the blow lifted a strand of the youth’s hair. The onlookers in the teahouse couldn’t help but start shouting, "Yeah!"

"Awesome!"

"Hit him!"

"Hit him hard!"

...

In the next instant, that menacing, tiger-headed fist was stopped by a single, gently extended finger.

The finger hadn’t even physically touched Brother Wu’s tiger-headed fist. Everyone saw it with perfect clarity: the black-clothed youth had simply raised a hand nonchalantly and pointed into the Void.

And then, the pillar of Qi Blood, the tiger-head manifestation—it all proved to be as flimsy as paper. Beneath that single, effortless point into the Void, everything simply vanished.

All of its power dissipated like a popped bubble.

SPURT!

Brother Wu stood rooted to the spot and spat out a mouthful of dark red blood.

He opened his mouth and managed only a single word, "You..." before his tall, sturdy frame swayed.

Then, with a thud, he collapsed to the ground, his entire presence rapidly diminishing.

The boisterous teahouse fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. All the shouting ceased. The black-clothed youth withdrew his finger, his gaze sweeping across the room. "To speak of things you cannot do," he said faintly, "is arrogance. To speak of things you *can* do... that is simply stating a fact. An announcement."

The youth lowered his gaze to Brother Wu, who was sitting on the floor, and asked, "So? The Spirit Realm Secret Realm. Are you still going?"

Brother Wu’s face was deathly pale. He was furious and defiant, and even felt deeply wronged.

And so, even though he had been forcefully subdued, he couldn’t suppress his indignation and couldn’t help but demand, "Why? Who in the world are you? Why won’t you let me go to the Spirit Realm Secret Realm?"

Song Ciwan didn’t answer, instead sweeping her gaze over the others. "What about all of you? Must you go to the Spirit Realm Secret Realm, too?"

Some of the other Martial Artists averted their gaze, while others lowered their heads. One person hastily replied, "We’re not going! We’re not—"

Before he could finish, a clamor suddenly erupted from the street outside.

Someone shouted, "It’s here! This is the place! The attack that pierced the gate of our dojo came from in there!"

"And our clothier’s shop!"

"It went through our inn, too!"

"My shop too..."

Someone else was cursing up a storm. "Damn it, what kind of asshole dares to act so recklessly in the city? Do they have a death wish?"

Another person yelled, "Quick, make way! The officers from the City Patrol Department are here!"

WHOOSH!

The people who had been packed into the teahouse scrambled to move, gathering in the far corners and leaving a wide-open path to the front door.

The sound of orderly, synchronized footsteps approached rapidly from the distance.