At that moment, Li Qian and her three companions stepped forward from the crowd, their robes fluttering with grace, exuding composure and confidence. Li Qian cupped her hands and called out clearly:
"Since we're already gathered here, why not let Master Murong and Palace Lord Tuoba Xingge exchange a few moves? It would be a pity for all present if such a duel never occurs. What say you, Master Murong?"
Murong Gui's heart tightened, his brows furrowing slightly. He pondered silently: "Tuoba Xingge's 'True Formula Manual' is said to be unpredictable and profound. He's often called 'the master whose spirit touches the heavens.' Though I have my 'Heavenly Gang Divine Skill' to protect me, the outcome is uncertain. If I lose here, the reputation of the Black Dragon Sect may collapse."
As he hesitated, a wild laugh—sharp as a wolf's howl—suddenly pierced the sky. Mixed in was a rustling like wind sweeping through forest leaves, signaling the arrival of a master in the art of lightness skill. The crowd turned in alarm.
A gray figure flashed over the treetops like a ghost. Within moments, he was already at the center of the field. His speed was so great that a trailing afterimage lingered behind him. As his feet touched the ground, his beard and hair fluttered, and his eyes sparkled like lightning—it was none other than the famed "Tiger Among Men," Shi Yong!
Shi Yong's gaze swept the crowd, finally resting on Tuoba Xingge. In a deep voice, he declared:
"Master Murong is of exalted status. Why not let me, Shi Yong, 'the Tiger Among Men,' offer a few pointers instead?"
His voice rumbled like a great bell, shaking the very air. Tuoba Xingge's heart sank. "This old man's martial prowess is unfathomable. He's as renowned as Beggar Chief Fei Jin and Master Liu Xuan of the Heavenly Sect. Facing him here could be disastrous."
Just as he deliberated, Wu Tong stepped forward respectfully:
"Junior Wu Tong greets Elder Shi."
Shi Yong nodded slightly in approval: "So, you're the master of the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness! Your reputation for integrity precedes you, and today I see it's well deserved."
He suddenly shifted tone, mocking: "Far better than certain good-for-nothing scoundrels. That Jia Yong drinks and carouses all day—Master Murong would do well to throw him out!"
Wu Tong, unfazed, replied respectfully: "You honor me, Elder. I merely follow the saying: 'Respect your elders, do not name them.' Today I speak only in hopes of turning blades to silk."
Shi Yong's eyes glinted with appreciation. "You're a rare youth indeed—not like that stubborn old fool Fei Jin. Lacks adaptability."
Suddenly intrigued, he proposed: "Why don't you and I have a friendly exchange? Let the crowd enjoy the spectacle. What do you say?"
Wu Tong knew there was no way to decline. He thought: "Shi Yong's martial arts are top-tier. If I go all out, I might last ten moves. But I must remember—when facing elders, show restraint."
He replied sincerely: "If you wish to instruct me, Elder, I shall accept humbly. But I trust you'll stop short of injury."
Shi Yong laughed: "Worry not! I'll hold back. Give it your all—let me see what the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness has to offer!"
With a shake of his arms, his sleeves fluttered though there was no wind. His aura surged like a tiger poised to strike.
Wu Tong inhaled deeply, calming his breath, gathering his qi. The tension was palpable—the battle between generations was about to erupt!
Wu Tong bowed deeply, then launched into action with a cry: "Forgive my offense!"
He sprang into the air, right palm chopping downward with explosive force. Though simple in appearance, it contained thirty percent of the power of the Northern Sea Divine Palm. Before the palm arrived, its qi had already swept the fallen leaves into the air.
Shi Yong's eyes lit up: "What a fine youth! Straight to the point."
He calmly met the attack—one hand blocking, the other striking toward Wu Tong's chest. His technique, though simple, bore the strength of decades, and his palm wind roared like a tiger.
Wu Tong shivered inwardly:"So this is the famed 'Tiger Subduing Palm'!"
He recalled his duel on Mount Hua, where his internal energy had not yet matured. Now, he was ready.
With a shout, he unleashed the sixteenth move of the Northern Sea Palm: 'Soaring Through the Sky'.
He darted forward, palms flowing like butterflies. Shi Yong narrowed his eyes: "Impressive footwork!"
The two collided—four palms met, booming like thunderclaps, rattling the ears of all around. The crowd recoiled several steps.
Watching from the sidelines, Murong Gui was aghast: "When did Wu Tong achieve such mastery? Back at Tengwang Pavilion, he was just a novice. Now he holds his own against 'Tiger Among Men'?!"
He began to worry—"If I had to fight Wu Tong now, could I win?"
Even Tuoba Xingge was startled. He had thought Wu Tong famous only for his Crouching Dragon Blade.
But seeing his mastery in hand-to-hand combat—and the depth of his internal strength—he felt a chill.
Even from a distance, the residual qi from their clash pressed against his chest.
"Such power... it defies reason."
Back in the arena, Wu Tong executed "Lifting Mountains, Crossing Seas"—his arms arced out, delivering a flurry of palms.
Each blow surged forward like crashing waves.
Shi Yong braced, then bellowed: "Tiger's Claw Seizes Beard!"
His Tiger Subduing Palm thundered forth, conjuring a phantom tiger in the wind.
BOOM!
Both men staggered back three steps.
Wu Tong felt his blood churn: "That palm was fierce! Without my recent Northern Sea training, I'd have been injured."
He quickly steadied into a four-point stance.
Shi Yong, likewise, was stunned: "He took that head-on? My palm had seventy percent of my full power!"
The two reset and clashed again.
Wu Tong's skills were a fusion of multiple schools—learned from White Cloud Hermit, Lü Qiang, and more. His footwork shifted between solid and elusive, movements alternating between dragon and tiger.
His palms morphed from tile-slicing edge to soft-flowing leaf, from invisible needle to heavy ox-tongue palm. His mastery of all forms was seamless.
Shi Yong grew more amazed with each move.
"He's not just talented—he's terrifyingly well-rounded!"
Shi poured all his strength into his Tiger Palm—each strike capable of splitting stone.
A hundred moves passed—and still they were evenly matched.
The spectators stood slack-jawed.
One murmured: "We've long heard of Wu Tong's strength… but today's display far surpasses the legends."
His companion nodded, eyes fixed on the battle.
Suddenly, Shi Yong let out a mighty roar, leapt into the air, twisted three times mid-flight, and descended with his ultimate move:
"Tiger Descends the Mountain"—a crushing double palm that had never failed in decades.
Wu Tong calmly widened his stance, planted his feet, and let his breath sink into his core.
He would meet the heavens-shaking strike head-on...