Mainland Martial Arts

Chapter 405 Falling into a tough fight

"It's incredibly difficult to escape unscathed from under the noses of these five masters," Lin Feng groaned inwardly. Jiang Cheng's swordsmanship had reached the Mahayana stage. Every thrust of his sword was like a swift, venomous snake, its angles cunning and its speed unpredictable. Chang Jihou's spearmanship was unparalleled. In his hands, the spear was like a dragon emerging from the sea, full of might and power. Guan Jinsong's physical strength was beyond imagination. With his iron fists alone, he could split mountains and crack rocks, like an ancient god of war descended to earth. Duan Yin's whip technique was flexible and varied. His long whip was like a spirit snake darting freely through the air, swerving left and right, leaving no room for maneuver. Revolver's axe was heavy and powerful. Every swing carried an overwhelming force, as if it could split the heavens and earth.

While he possessed the Star Blade, he lacked the exquisite swordsmanship to match it. While his armor, condensed from zhenqi and the power of heaven and earth, enhanced his combat prowess and physical strength to a certain extent, the zhenqi it consumed was immense, like a flood bursting through a dam. He gazed at the straight Star Blade in his hand and sighed helplessly, "This powerful domain can only suppress the opponent's realm and increase gravity, but I lack any martial arts and swordsmanship to rely on. This is why combat is so difficult for me, like rowing against the current, every step is difficult." His eyes revealed deep fatigue and anxiety. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and soaking his clothes, which clung tightly to his body, outlining his slightly disheveled but still upright figure.

A withered yellow leaf struggled desperately on a branch, ultimately succumbing to fate's cruel twist and falling in a gust of bitter cold wind. It swirled in the air, drifting slowly and gracefully, like a fading dancer performing their final swan song, before gently falling to the ground with a barely audible sigh. Ten miles away, the woods, however, lacked this tranquility and poignant beauty. Instead, they were filled with the solemnity and tension of impending storm.

Chang Jihou stood firm, his figure like a pine tree, his eyes fixed on Lin Feng, his fierce fighting spirit threatening to burst forth. Suddenly, he roared, a roar like thunder, shaking the air around him. Then, like a ghost, he advanced, the white spear in his hand shimmering with a chilling light in the sunlight. Like an incredibly nimble silver snake, it twisted and weaved through the air, piercing Lin Feng's vital throat with lightning speed. Wherever the spear passed, the air ripped apart by its force, emitting a sharp, piercing whistle, like the deadly notes of death.

Almost simultaneously, Jiang Cheng, Guan Jinsong, Duan Yin, and Zuo Lun all launched fierce attacks. Jiang Cheng's expression was stern, like millennia-old ice, his eyes revealing a chilling murderous intent that penetrated his bones. With a slight flick of his sword, the clang of the sword resounded through the heavens, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, dazzling and deadly. Immediately afterwards, countless sword energies enveloped Lin Feng like a dragnet, each one imbued with the essence honed through years of painstaking sword practice. Their sharpness was so intense that it seemed as if they could easily slice through the void and tear apart anything that stood in their way.

Guan Jinsong, like a raging giant, roared to the heavens, his voice resonating throughout the surroundings. His mighty roar, like the arrival of an ancient demon god, was terrifying. Bare-chested, his bronze skin gleamed metallically in the sun, his toned abdominal muscles as if cast from steel, indestructible. The four phoenix tattoos, vividly alive, seemed to be awakened by his fighting spirit, swirling and dancing around his body, emitting a mysterious and powerful aura. He clenched his fists, veins bulging like a serpentine dragon, and with the terrifying force of splitting mountains and shattering rock, he slammed them into Lin Feng's chest. Each punch seemed to shake the very air, the air squeezed until it emitted a dull, rumbling sound.

Duan Yin narrowed her phoenix eyes slightly, a look filled with contempt and disdain. She parted her red lips and spat softly. Then, the long whip in her hand, like a nimble snake, slashed through the air in graceful yet deadly arcs. The whip tip gleamed with a cold, haunting light, seemingly capable of captivating the soul. Silently, from the right, it coiled around Lin Feng's waist like a ghost, attempting to restrict his movements with her exquisite whip technique, trapping him within the layers of whip shadows, leaving him at her mercy.

Revolver raised the immensely heavy axe high in both hands. The blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight, like a black hole swallowing all light. His face was horrified, as if possessed by an evil spirit, its distortion terrifying. He swung the axe down towards Lin Feng's head with such force that it seemed capable of splitting a towering mountain. The wind from the axe whistled past, flattening the surrounding grass and trees, and shaking the ground slightly, as if a minor earthquake had occurred.

Lin Feng, at the center of this raging storm, stood proudly like a towering mountain, unafraid. His gaze was as firm as a rock, deep and blazing. He gripped the Star Blade tightly. The straight blade seemed to sense its master's determination and unyielding spirit, trembling slightly, as if resonating with his heartbeat. The gleaming blade seemed to unleash an invisible, astonishing, repressive force, as if it could suppress everything in the world and freeze the air around it.

Though Lin Feng had never studied orthodox swordsmanship, he relied on the powerful suppression of his star field and the rich experience accumulated through countless life-or-death battles to deftly and tenaciously counter the enemy's attacks. Just as the spear tip was about to pierce him, he flashed like lightning, displaying a set of exquisite movements. With a light tap of his foot, he dodged the attack like a ghost. Seizing the opportunity, he swung the Star Blade, slashing at Chang Jihou's wrist. The strike was as swift as wind, fierce and resolute, an attempt to use offense instead of defense to force the enemy back. Chang Jihou was startled. He had not expected Lin Feng to be so desperate, and he quickly withdrew his spear, narrowly parrying the blow.

However, before one wave subsided, another arose. Jiang Cheng's longsword was approaching like a venomous snake. Lin Feng had no time to turn, so he could only rely on the length of the Star Blade to block with the flat of his backhand. A loud clang sounded, sparks flew, and the powerful impact, like a surging tide, numbed Lin Feng's arm and caused a sharp pain in his palm. But he gritted his teeth, relying on his tenacious will and perseverance to block the blow.