Chapter 1275 - 326: Slaying Dragons in the Angry Sea, Stirring Chaos and Chivalrous Blood

"Break!" His palm struck out with "Heaven and Earth in Unison," this palm condensing the immortal aura of the Xu Fu Immortal Pill, the Dao charm of the Kunlun Heart Inquiry Technique, and the oppressive might of the Divine Dragon Pagoda; the iron-hard shell of the black tortoise exploded with a thunderous boom, fresh blood dyeing the entire sea red.

The surviving shrine maidens were terrified out of their wits, forming seals to unleash their final killing move.

A cold gleam flashed in Shi Feiyang’s eyes, Bright Jade Technique running at full force, his whole body turning into a transparent ice sculpture.

He flicked a finger, and a stream of icy True Qi shot toward the sea; the instant it touched the seawater, a radius of a hundred li actually froze into a colossal ice prison.

"Trying to run?" His voice seemed to come from the Nine Netherworld. "Ice Soul Demon-Sealing!" The Wokou within the ice prison were instantly frozen, not even managing a scream before becoming eternal ice sculptures. As the fierce battle ended, Shi Feiyang slowly descended, the golden light around him gradually fading.

Bai Zhi rushed over; seeing him unscathed, the heart she’d been holding finally settled. "Shi Lang, you..." "Don’t worry." Shi Feiyang clasped her hand, tenderness and domineering aura coexisting in his eyes. "With an Immortal Pill protecting my body and the Divine Dragon watching over me, in this world, there is nothing that can harm me."

Shi Xiong and Shan Zhi exchanged a glance, their hearts filled with shock. They had seen Shi Feiyang battle countless heroes, yet had never seen such an invincible bearing. "The Grand Squad Leader is truly like a being of heaven and man!" Shi Xiong dropped to one knee, his eyes full of reverence.

Shi Feiyang looked toward Qi Jiguang’s sunken ship, which had again submerged beneath the sea, and said in a low voice, "This is only the beginning. As long as the Wokou remain, the sabers of our Heroic Sakura Association will not return to their sheaths for a single day!" The setting sun broke free of the clouds once more, sheathing Shi Feiyang’s figure in a rim of gold.

Behind him, the sea was littered with countless ice sculptures and corpses, like a soul-shocking battle hymn rendered in paint. And deeper down on the seabed, the "Twelve Styles of Wokou-Slaying" diagrams within the sunken ship gleamed faintly, waiting for the opening of the next legend.

In Jiangnan, the plum rain fell in fine, drizzling sheets, yet inside the council hall of the Headquarter on Piaomiao Peak, a searing heat roiled.

Liao Pei’s Long Arm Fist pounded a muffled rhythm on the rosewood chair, the impact setting the teacups on the table humming. "Grand Squad Leader Shi ventures into danger alone—how can we old bones sit and watch?"

Lie Quan’s Heaven and Earth Saber lay across his knees, the copper rings on the scabbard quivering slightly with his words. "Has Younger Brother Wu’s thunder-fire firearm formation been completed? That Wokou ghost ship appears and vanishes like a specter—ordinary blades may not even scratch it."

Wu Zhong suddenly sprang to his feet, his black-iron prosthetic limb crashing against the table with a boom. The Thirty-Six-Barreled Repeating Firearm gleamed coldly, rolling nimbly in his hand like a living thing. "It was forged three months ago! Black iron mixed with meteorite fine steel—one shot can pierce three inches of steel plate."

His iron palm slapped down hard on the firearm, sending a shower of sparks through the room. "Tomorrow at midnight, I’ll let those East Asia bastards have a taste of firearms!"

In a corner, "Barrel" Lu Dechu scratched his messy hair, the frame of the man-carrying paper kite in his arms rustling softly. "My Flying Kite can carry three people. Using the cover of night to slip onto that ghost ship, I guarantee we’ll catch them off guard!"

But "Bamboo Pole" Jiang Huotian frowned, his bamboo pole tapping out a sharp, rhythmic clack on the ground. "The weather at sea is treacherous. If we run into a thunderstorm..."

Before he finished, Flying Eagle Detective Xie Wen had already unfurled a sea chart, his hawk-like gaze sweeping over the markings. "Tonight at midnight the tide turns—it’s the perfect time for a surprise assault."

At midnight, oppressive clouds pressed so low over the sea that the water seemed unable to breathe. Twenty man-carrying paper kites skated over the wave crests like night owls, racing forward under Lu Dechu’s control.

Xiao Lingling’s Mandarin Duck Saber quivered lightly at her waist. Staring at the ghastly white lanterns swaying from the ghost ship’s mast in the distance, she lowered her voice. "Brother Miao, in a moment we’ll be counting on your divine archery."

Miao Menlong nocked an arrow and drew his bow, the bowstring humming like a wild beast. "As long as they dare show their faces, my Sky-Piercing Arrow will punch through their dog heads."

On the ghost ship’s deck, ghostly blue phosphorescence flared to life, and dozens of Wokou appeared like specters.

Wu Zhong let out a thunderous shout; the thunder-fire firearms mounted on his black-iron prosthetic limb roared in unison, thirty-six streams of fire tearing open the night.

Lead bullets poured down like a torrential rain; the Wokou’s wails mingled with the clash of metal, startling flocks of seabirds into the sky.

"Centipede" Gongsun Ren snapped out his Nine-Section Steel Whip, the barbed tip coiling around a Ranger and ripping him cleanly in two.

However, a strange gale suddenly swept across the sea, and Lu Dechu’s paper kites began to buck and sway violently.

Raindrops as big as beans slammed into the kite wings, the soaked paper growing steadily heavier.

"This is bad! A thunderstorm!" Jiang Huotian’s bamboo pole traced arcs through the raging wind as he tried to steady himself.

But a bolt of lightning crashed down, and the two nearest paper kites went up in flames at once, the disciples they carried screaming as they plunged into the sea.

On the ghost ship’s deck, Wokou Leader Morioka let out a feral laugh, the demon blade in his hand spewing purple mist. "Central Plains savages, taste the flavor of the Eight-headed Poisonous Miasma!"

Wherever the poisonous fog rolled, the seawater boiled and bubbled; the kites that drifted too close were corroded into tatters. Xiang Kun’s iron flute suddenly sounded an impassioned melody, the flute notes forming a Sound Wave Technique barrier that temporarily halted the spread of the poison.

Yang Feng’s blue-faced fanged mask glinted coldly in the lightning; he swung his chain hammer into the ghost ship’s railing, blasting a huge hole open with a resounding crash.

Wu Zhong’s thunder-fire firearm clicked empty on the last shot; he simply wielded the gun as a Wolf Fang Club, his black-iron prosthetic limb whipping about with ferocious momentum.

A Ninja seized the opportunity to fling a poison-laced kunai, only for it to be knocked from the air halfway by Shan Zhi’s plum-blossom darts.

"Brother Xie, I’ve found their powder magazine!" Shan Zhi’s bellow blended with the peal of thunder.

Xie Wen darted into the hold like a spirit cat, and moments later burst out clutching a powder keg. "Watch this!"

Morioka sensed something amiss, his demon blade hacking out ten-zhang-long arcs of saber qi. Shi Feiyang’s subordinates formed into a battle formation; Xiao Lingling’s Mandarin Duck Saber, Miao Menlong’s divine arrows, and Xiang Kun’s Sound Wave Technique wove together into a net, barely managing to hold off the strike.