Chapter 65: Near-Death

Chapter 65: Chapter 65: Near-Death

HISS~

Visible Evil Qi slowly seeped from Fang Can’s body as he stared coldly at the scene before him.

The tall man who had been so imposing just a moment ago was now devoid of life, his shoulders empty.

Fang Can’s previous punch had completely obliterated the man’s head, tearing away all the flesh and blood from his neck.

’I seem to have gotten a little cruel lately.’

As the Evil Tiger Devouring Body faded, the Evil Qi between Fang Can’s brows dissipated. He looked at the chunks of flesh before him, calmly examining himself.

A few days ago, he had even hesitated before killing a few thugs who tried to rob him.

But now, he’d blow an enemy’s brains out at the slightest disagreement.

Looking at the followers gathering around, Fang Can wiped his fist lightly and said, "Clean this place up. Then, throw this guy’s body outside and put it on display."

"On display?" a follower asked, confused.

"Yes. Let everyone outside know this is the price for not following the rules," Fang Can said casually, immediately noticing the coldness in his own words as they left his lips.

’Heh, what’s so wrong with that?’ A slight smile touched the corners of Fang Can’s lips.

’Cultivating martial arts isn’t a dinner party. My current mental state is still controllable, and it’s better suited for a world like this.’

Walking out of the small courtyard, Fang Can raised his hand slightly, and a follower at his side immediately handed him a stack of challenge letters.

"My Lord, these are the challenge letters from the challengers. We’ve already gathered over a dozen in the last two hours," Ye Yonglie said from the side.

Fang Can flipped through them. Each letter detailed the opponent’s Realm and title.

"Only a dozen or so?" Fang Can was a little dissatisfied, but he also understood how difficult it was to form a Heart Image.

In the entire Great Yan Country, you couldn’t even find a million Martial Artists with a Heart Image, and there were fewer than a thousand at the Heaven-Ascending Road Realm or above.

This only highlighted the terrifying potential of Fang Can’s promise of a "technique for all," which could inflate the number of Heaven-Ascending Road cultivators into the millions.

"Whatever. Just have them all come at me at once," Fang Can said casually.

It had only been a day, but he no longer felt much pressure when facing ordinary Heart Image Martial Artists. They couldn’t give him a real sense of crisis.

As for who wasn’t ordinary? Naturally, it was the disciples of the great clans, backed by Martial Artists of the Heaven-Ascending Road.

The three techniques he currently relied on—Evil Tiger Devouring Body, Bedrock Contemplation, and Taming Tiger and Dragon Golden Body—all had comparable counterparts within those great aristocratic families. One could not underestimate the foundations laid by their predecessors.

The Heart Image Martial Artists challenging him now were small fry at best. The disciples from the great aristocratic families didn’t have that kind of free time.

These disciples were, on average, at the Profound Gate Eighth Layer or higher. They had mastered one to five Secret Techniques, and their strength had reached the peak of the Transcendent Body.

But according to Liu Qingmeng, the opponents he would face in the grand competition a month from now would all be monsters of that caliber.

Lost in thought, Fang Can walked out of the Lieyang Martial Arts Hall. A huge martial arts stage had already been erected outside the entrance.

More than a dozen Martial Artists preparing to challenge him stood on the stage, looking indignantly at Fang Can approaching in the distance.

They all felt Fang Can was being far too arrogant, fighting more than a dozen people at once. ’Does he really think he’s number one on the Hidden Dragon Rankings?’

But in the next moment, they saw Fang Can pull a black silk ribbon from his lapel and, while still walking, blindfold himself.

"What do you think you’re doing?"

Seeing Fang Can’s actions, the Martial Artists vaguely guessed his intentions, and their expressions turned ugly.

"Oh, just adding a little difficulty to this fight."

Fang Can tied the blindfold over his eyes, his vision plunging into darkness. He immediately activated his Tiger Evil Cultivation Technique.

As his Evil Qi surged and he felt his body’s strength continuing to rise, Fang Can said, sounding a bit embarrassed:

"Sorry, because of my Realm, I have to use a Secret Technique to boost my power. I feel like that’s a bit unfair to you."

As he spoke, Fang Can had already drawn a longsword from his back. "How about this," he said, "I’ll give you a three-move handicap."

"A... a three-move handicap." The expressions of the Martial Artists on the stage turned completely grim.

Not only was he blindfolded, but he was also giving them a three-move head start. ’How dare this guy be so arrogant?’

Anyone who could reach the Heart Image Realm naturally possessed superior talent and could not tolerate Fang Can’s contempt.

They could already feel the disdainful gazes from the onlookers in the distance.

A significant portion of these people were Fang Can’s followers, who would never miss one of his battles.

With Fang Can’s appearance, the surrounding cheers erupted, as loud as a pop star’s concert.

"BOOOO~"

"These Heart Image Martial Artists are so lame."

"The Lord God is invincible!"

...

Every follower’s eyes burned with fanaticism. They stared at Fang Can with adoration, their hands raised high as they clapped ceaselessly.

But in the next instant, the sound of a sharp blade tearing through flesh silenced the entire crowd.

SHHHLIIICK—

A sharp longsword was seen plunging into his chest, then piercing through flesh and bone, running Fang Can’s body through.

And the one who did it was Fang Can himself!!!

"Huu..." He let out a soft breath, gently pulled the longsword out, and then raised it to stab himself again.

Seeing this, one of the challenging Heart Image Martial Artists couldn’t help but shout, "Hey, what do you think you’re doing!"

’This is basically an insurance scam! Is he trying to extort us? This is outrageous!’

Hearing the Martial Artist’s question, Fang Can’s hand, which was holding the sword, paused. His tone remained nonchalant as he said, "Oh, didn’t I say I’d give you a three-move handicap?"

As he spoke, he stabbed himself two more times. Fang Can’s chest was now torn open, and blood began to dye his robes crimson.

The three piercing wounds made Fang Can look as if he were about to collapse, his face slightly pale.

’So... so *that’s* what you meant by a three-move handicap?!’ One of the Martial Artists could no longer maintain his composure. His eyes were filled with disbelief, thinking the man before him was completely insane.

But Fang Can could feel that as his health dropped, his own talents, like inspiration, began to skyrocket.

Watching the blood stream from Fang Can’s wounds, the entire venue was silent. Everyone was stunned into silence by his bizarre performance.

Suddenly, someone clapped their hands and exclaimed, "I get it!"

"What do you get?" a person next to him instinctively asked.

"It’s because these Martial Artists are too weak! They can’t even get the Lord God interested in fighting."

The speaker said with conviction, "The Lord God is pushing himself to his absolute limit so he can achieve a breakthrough in battle."

"I see! It’s all because these Martial Artists are so pathetic." The crowd immediately erupted in boos.

But that person was completely wrong. Because right now, the physically weakened, low-health Fang Can was actually in his strongest state.

His attributes—inspiration, skill, intuition, and luck—had all reached their maximum.

"So... come at me together."

Fang Can, his robes stained with blood, smiled. In his near-death, blindfolded state, he looked just like a world-saving Holy Son.

The followers below instantly let out a collective howl, raising their hands high and waving them with even greater fervor.

"WAAGH! Lord God, we adore you!"