Chapter 310: A War of Words

Luo Laoqi had come to issue a challenge.

Wangchuan had known about it for some time.

Messages sent by carrier pigeon from the main hall had repeatedly warned him to prepare early.

Old Seven had even dispatched men on fast horses to deliver detailed intelligence about Luo Laoqi. The report listed the martial arts he excelled in: 《Misty Trace Steps》, 《Snake-Driving Staff Technique》, 《Drunken Fist》, 《Yunmeng Internal Art》, and 《Iron Cloth Shirt》. It also explained clearly which combinations of techniques were the hardest to defend against and how they were usually employed.

Old Seven’s intention was simple.

He wanted two Second-Rank deputy helm leaders to fight first, probing the enemy’s abilities and exhausting Luo Laoqi’s internal energy and stamina, so that the final match would have a chance to drive him away.

After hearing that the chief helm leader Cui Mingjue and his companions had their kneecaps smashed, and that the three leaders of the Leishui Branch Helm had suffered even worse—both kneecaps completely shattered, leaving them permanently crippled—Wangchuan felt both furious and shocked by the man’s strength.

Even so, he had no intention of backing down.

There was no reason for him to retreat.

He understood the 《Snake-Driving Staff Technique》. It was merely a Second-Rank martial art.

Even if the opponent had cultivated it to the “Perfect Mastery” realm, it would only be comparable to the “Integration” stage of a Third-Rank martial art. The advantage would not be overwhelming.

《Iron Cloth Shirt》 was also a Second-Rank defensive technique. In terms of body protection, Wangchuan certainly held the advantage—his Third-Rank 《Dragon-Elephant Body Protection》 had already reached Integration.

As for internal cultivation…

his 《Black Tortoise Art》 was also at Integration. Both his defense and offense had risen dramatically, enough to overwhelm ordinary Third-Rank martial artists.

The only thing he was still considering was which martial art to use against the Snake-Driving Staff Technique.

The technique was nimble and tricky, specializing in attacking the lower body.

Perhaps 《Qingcheng Sword Technique》.

After all, that sword art came from a renowned sect. In combat it could suppress and weaken the opponent’s attacks, reducing the danger somewhat. It was the safest choice.

“A disciple of the Beggar Sect! Luo Laoqi!”

“I have come to the Sanjiang Branch Helm to issue a challenge!”

“Sanjiang Branch Helm!”

“Do your Second-Rank martial artists dare to fight?!”

Luo Laoqi’s voice carried into the branch helm.

The training ground instantly fell silent. Everyone stopped what they were doing.

Chen Ergou rushed forward and cupped his fists.

“Helm Leader!”

“This subordinate is willing to face that villain!”

Wang Yuehui and Hong Kaibao quickly gathered around as well, their expressions firm as they saluted.

“This subordinate is willing to fight!”

“This subordinate is willing to fight!”

Although the two of them were players, their eagerness to volunteer surprised Wangchuan.

Especially Wang Yuehui—he had always been the most cautious of the group.

This was not his usual style.

“There is no need for you to throw away your lives.”

Wangchuan waved a hand.

“I will face him personally. Ergou, instruct the men to invite them in. Do not create unnecessary trouble.”

“Yes!”

Chen Ergou accepted the order and left.

Soon after, the visitors were brought to the training ground.

The disciples of the branch helm cleared the field.

Wangchuan sat firmly on the steps to one side, holding his Hundred-Forged Steel Sword as he calmly watched the two men approaching.

The man walking in front was a middle-aged beggar. His hair was disheveled, his clothes ragged and worn. Wrinkles covered his face, making him appear somewhat aged and shabby.

Yet his physique and movements were agile and vigorous.

In his hand he carried a dark iron staff, polished smooth from long use.

The beggar walking behind him wore a Hundred-Patch Robe. Simply standing there, he exuded the imposing presence of a towering mountain.

His aura suppressed the entire field.

This was the Beggar Sect’s Fourth-Rank martial artist—Elder Zhu.

The newcomers were also observing the disciples of the Sanjiang Branch Helm.

There were seventy or eighty people in the training ground. Most of them were merely quasi-martial artists with modest cultivation, but their spirit and discipline were impressive.

Four Second-Rank martial artists stood beside Wangchuan.

Luo Laoqi examined them one by one, carefully assessing the potential opponents among the Second-Rank fighters. In the end, he found none who looked particularly formidable.

The smile on his face became even more relaxed and mocking.

He walked to the center of the training ground, cupped his fists in greeting, and said loudly:

“Luo Laoqi of the Beggar Sect has come to the Sanjiang Branch Helm to challenge the heroes here!”

Then he tossed out a large gold ingot.

“This is one hundred taels of gold! If I lose, it stays here!”

“I wonder—who has the courage to take it?”

The disciples of the Sanjiang Branch Helm all turned their eyes toward their helm leader on the steps.

Chen Ergou shifted his body and was about to step forward, but Wangchuan rose and pressed him back down.

“When experts of the Beggar Sect come to challenge us, we must naturally give it our full effort. We cannot allow others to look down on us.”

“I am Wangchuan, Helm Leader of the Sanjiang Branch Helm. I will personally seek guidance from Senior Luo.”

“Good!”

Seeing Wangchuan step forward first, a hint of admiration flashed in Luo Laoqi’s eyes. He gave a thumbs-up and praised loudly:

“Bold!”

“Decisive!”

“You are far more interesting than the helm leaders of Leishui and Jinhe!”

Luo Laoqi’s booming voice continued:

“That useless fellow from Leishui caused trouble in the river. We ended up killing more than a dozen water ghosts and feeding them to the fish! The Jinhe helm leader is even more cowardly! He shut his gates immediately and refused visitors! I suspect he will never accomplish anything in this life!”

It sounded like praise for Wangchuan, but in truth he was mocking the Caobang as a group of worthless fools.

Then Luo Laoqi stared coldly at Wangchuan.

“I just wonder how capable the helm leader of the Sanjiang Branch Helm really is—and how many kneecaps I will smash today.”

The crowd erupted in anger.

“What did you say!”

“You filthy beggar!”

“Watch your mouth!”

The disciples of the Sanjiang Branch Helm revered Wangchuan almost like a god. They could not tolerate such insults.

Chen Ergou tightened his grip on his iron-backed bow, his chest heaving with fury.

Luo Laoqi merely dug a finger into his ear, utterly unconcerned.

Wangchuan chuckled softly as he descended the steps with his sword in hand.

“I had thought that the Beggar Sect, the greatest sect under heaven, would send a young expert.”

“Instead, they sent Senior Luo… It seems the Beggar Sect truly lacks new blood these days.”

“… ”

Elder Zhu and Luo Laoqi both stiffened.

At the same time, they thought of the destroyed sub-branch in Sanhe Commandery.

A sharp killing intent flashed in Luo Laoqi’s eyes.

Wangchuan continued calmly:

“Senior Luo is already so old, yet still wandering the Jianghu. Life in the Beggar Sect must truly be difficult. Aren’t you afraid someone might gouge out your eyes as well, leaving you like a stray dog, dying without a proper end?”

“You brat with the sharp tongue.”

Luo Laoqi’s temper began to rise.

“Let us see whether you will still be shouting for your father and mother when this old man smashes your kneecaps.”

Wangchuan remained completely unfazed.

“Rest assured, Senior Luo. I am young—my bones are very sturdy. I have already killed opponents of your age before. The Snake Elder of the Five Poison Sect was supposedly quite famous in the Jianghu, yet he was nothing special.”

The repeated provocations finally pushed Luo Laoqi into genuine fury.

He raised his iron staff and fixed his gaze on Wangchuan.

“Helm Leader Wangchuan!”

“Luo Laoqi of the Beggar Sect requests your guidance!”

The moment he finished speaking, he stepped forward using Misty Trace Steps, rapidly closing the distance.

The staff moved like a snake chasing its prey.

The man moved with the staff.

The iron staff swayed left and right unpredictably.

Wangchuan remained standing in place, sword in hand.

The Snake-Driving Staff Technique was agile and ever-changing, designed to strike after the opponent moved.

When the staff finally thrust toward him—

the Hundred-Forged Steel Sword shot out like lightning.

You attack my lower body—

I take your head.

An exchange of injuries.