Chapter 69: Supreme Skill Versus Supreme Skill

"Why does this opening move look so familiar to me?"
"Is it... a fist technique?"
"A fist technique?! Damn! Run!"
"Run!!!"
The young ones were still dazed and confused, but the seasoned fighters had already scrambled down from the trees and fled.
One after another, more and more martial artists realized what was happening and began to withdraw in panic. The crowd became a chaotic, surging mass, dark and tumultuous.
"It's the Thunderous Bear Fist! He's the Ji family's boy!" someone finally shouted in terror.
"General Fei Xiong just found his long-lost youngest son a few days ago! It's said the boy's martial skills are extraordinary—he even defeated You Zhuo, who used the Wind Commanding Hand, at the palace banquet! It must be him!"
"A Sichuanese accent! Thunderous Bear Fist! You Zhuo's Flowing Cloud Fan! There's no mistake—it's him!"
"It's him, it's him, it's definitely him!"
"His name is—"
A deafening crack of thunder split the sky, as if to rend heaven and earth apart.
Ji Huo raised his left hand, lifting it toward the heavens as though he would shoulder the entire sky. His gaze was firm and piercing, exuding an unparalleled aura.
With his movement, the muscles in his arm bulged, gathering power. Suddenly, he clenched his fist as if grasping the very heavens!
In the next instant, he yanked downward.
A bolt of blue lightning—thick as a man's thigh—plummeted from the sky, roaring like a dragon descending in fury.
It tore through the air with a dazzling brilliance too intense to look upon, streaking toward Ji Huo in the blink of an eye.
Yet Ji Huo did not flinch or evade. He stood his ground, radiating a powerful energy that resonated with the lightning.
The lightning struck him directly, but he remained unharmed. Instead, he absorbed the energy, drawing it wholly into himself.
The blue lightning did not abate, but continued to pour down upon him. Each strike carried the power to destroy the world, yet Ji Huo never wavered.
Suddenly, his eyes blazed with boundless electric light, as though they might tear the very void asunder—enough to chill the heart.
A torrent of tremendous energy surged from within him, transforming into countless blue bolts that slithered and intertwined like living serpents.
In the blink of an eye, a towering bear—more than ten meters tall—materialized behind him, formed entirely of blue lightning, lifelike and intimidating.

The giant bear, forged of lightning, radiated a terror that chilled the soul.
"Roar!!!"
The bear raised its massive paws high, lifted its head to the sky, and let out a thunderous roar that shook the heavens, venting its fury to the world.
Those fleeing in the distance looked back, terror-stricken, at the apocalyptic bear, scrambling away in abject panic.
In the next instant, Ji Huo hurled his right fist forward!
"Roar!!!"
The bear bellowed, its enormous right paw striking out simultaneously, unleashing a tempest of thunderbolts that crashed toward Hou Baixi.
Hou Baixi's eyes shone with brilliance. He gazed at Ji Huo with a flash of delight and admiration, then drew his wooden sword in a single motion.
The sword erupted with radiant light, weaving before Hou Baixi into the illusory form of a proud, upright middle-aged man.
The man's face was indistinct, save for two locks of hair at his temples. Facing this cataclysmic attack, he clasped his left hand behind his back, raised the sword with his right, and flicked it casually.
Sword-light flashed—daylight blazed across the heavens and earth!
Behind Hou Baixi, the forest was instantly scorched black by the thunderous fist-force; those who failed to dodge were flung dozens of meters and left convulsing, paralyzed by electricity.
The more experienced martial artists dropped flat to the ground, covering their heads, letting the fist-force sweep overhead.
When the skies cleared, they looked up in horror to see the once-lush woods razed to the ground, the earth charred and flames burning everywhere!
"This... this power is terrifying! Is this the legendary Thunderous Bear Fist?" Someone's lips trembled, legs weak, trying to rise but still paralyzed by lingering electricity.
"That was just the aftershock of a single punch. The main force was blocked by the Sword Saint's strike."
"If he'd used that punch earlier, he could have wiped us all out in an instant!"
"He deliberately held back and gave us time to flee, or he would have struck already."
The crowd lay on the ground, gossiping in awkward poses—some with their backsides in the air, looking like dogs eating dirt, their pants blackened and scorched, the scent pungent and acrid.
It wasn't for lack of trying—they were all still numb and couldn't get up, so they chatted and boasted where they lay.
Some had wet themselves, but with their clothes burned black, no one could tell.
It wasn't fear that made them lose control; the numbness left their bodies unresponsive.
As for who soiled themselves and who didn't—it was like a winter accident: shameful, yet only the warmth was known to oneself.
All tacitly ignored the matter, discussing the battle with stoic faces, feigning indifference. In the martial world, such things were never mentioned—an unspoken code.
The discussion was lively at first, but as it went on, the smell of charring mingled with the aroma of roasted meat, and, faintly, the stench of excrement.

Days of hardship and poor fare had left their stomachs unsettled, and the resulting odors were... authentic and overpowering.
No one knew who suddenly muttered, "I could go for some nine-turn pork intestines right now."
"Shut up!" The crowd flushed with embarrassment and berated him furiously.
"Look at Nine-Bend Gorge!!!" someone suddenly cried out in terror.
All turned their stiff necks, forcing their numb bodies to look in that direction. Their pupils shrank in shock.
The sheer cliffs of Nine-Bend Gorge, rising into the clouds, had been shorn away—a whole section sliced cleanly off as if by a colossal, razor-sharp axe!
The cut gleamed smooth as a mirror, flawless and without the slightest roughness.
From a distance, the contrast between the severed edge and the untouched cliff was stark.
Ji Huo coughed twice, his figure swaying. He looked down at his chest, where a thin wound, oozing blood, was clearly visible.
"What a sharp sword," Ji Huo sighed softly.
The phantom figure nodded slightly and said,
"Not bad."
With that, it faded away.
Hou Baixi's wooden sword crumbled to dust in his hand, but he smiled and praised,
"You are truly remarkable, young hero, to withstand even a single stroke from my master's sword. Your mastery of the Thunderous Bear Fist is truly extraordinary—I shuddered just watching."
Ji Huo shook his head with a wry smile. "That was but a trace of sword intent. If the Sword Saint himself were here, I doubt I could even raise a hand in defense."
Hou Baixi blinked, a note of warmth in his eyes, and asked with a friendly smile, "Are you of the Ji family, young master?"
"I am Ji Huo, son of Ji Xiaoxiong," Ji Huo replied with a shrug.
Hou Baixi's smile deepened. "Master Ji, once matters here are settled, please visit Divine Sword Manor. My teacher wishes to see you."
Ji Huo asked in confusion, "Did the Sword Saint know of me beforehand?"