Living In Another World With A Farm Chapter 8394: Guidance (1)

"Kill!" A thunderous roar erupted as Fu Ling's massive blade hurtled toward Xiong Baoshan with the speed of a lightning strike. Fu Ling lacked patience by nature. He struck without pausing for any weakness to show in Xiong Baoshan's guard. The blade's strike carried immense power, immense power, and blistering quickness.

Folks usually assume that someone towering in height can't shift with much velocity since their bulk hampers their pace. It's similar to the common notion that the plump can't maneuver nimbly. Yet Fu Ling's fierce slash proved to all that even with his overwhelming might, his swiftness remained sharp and unrelenting.

In that instant, Xiong Baoshan's gaze sharpened with focus. He hurled his fist forward directly at Fu Ling. But midway through his rush, his form twisted into a new path. It resembled a seamless aerial pivot. Moreover, this shift flowed as smoothly as a winding river's bend. Simultaneously, he unleashed punches from both hands. As those blows extended, observers sensed a crushing weight because the pace of his strikes dragged noticeably.

Xiong Baoshan seemed to deliver his punches in deliberate slow motion. With each extension, it felt like his fists packed thousands of pounds of raw force. The slowness of his strikes was astonishing. While his bodily movements raced ahead, his fists lagged deliberately. This stark opposition left every witness to his attacks gripped by deep unease.

Fu Ling bore the brunt of that discomfort most intensely. He sensed his rival had evaded the assault, thanks to the bizarre nature of the foe's evasion skills. Still, shock didn't rattle him. He twisted the hefty blade in his grip. Though it appeared as a cumbersome and forceful weapon, it danced with the lightness and grace of a swift bird. In one fluid spin, it targeted Xiong Baoshan's incoming fist.

A resounding boom echoed as Fu Ling's blade clashed against Xiong Baoshan's fist. One silhouette hurtled backward through the air. Spectators froze in disbelief upon witnessing the scene. It wasn't the burly Xiong Baoshan, but rather Fu Ling. The imposing, robust Fu Ling had been blasted away by Xiong Baoshan's strike. Such an outcome stunned everyone.

Yet Xiong Baoshan held back from pressing the advantage. He glanced toward Fu Ling and let out a derisive snort. "The tyrannical blood saber is only so-so," he declared, before whipping his fists into motion and lunging at Fu Ling once more. Right then, Fu Ling halted his retreat. His face twisted into a grim mask. Then, with a fierce bellow, he whirled the giant saber and charged back at Xiong Baoshan.

On this occasion, Fu Ling avoided clashing directly with Xiong Baoshan. Despite the saber's enormous size, his handling proved remarkably nimble. The blade soared high and low, circling around without direct confrontation, yet it hemmed Xiong Baoshan in tightly. Now, Xiong Baoshan's fists quickened their rhythm. He hammered out blow after blow, each seeming primed for a head-on collision with Fu Ling. But since Fu Ling sidestepped those clashes, the pair settled into a tense stalemate.

The watching crowd stood dumbfounded. None had anticipated the fight unfolding in such a manner. A seemingly frail and slight figure challenging a hulking brute, yet the brute refusing the direct brawl. It was like the smaller man feared tangling with the powerhouse. This display struck everyone as utterly shocking and bizarre.

Before anyone realized, over fifty exchanges had passed between them in a flash. Fu Ling's eyes gleamed suddenly, and he swept the large saber in a bold arc. Xiong Baoshan countered the saber with his dual fists. Normally, Fu Ling would pull back his weapon and shift tactics right away, since the initial clash had left him at a subtle disadvantage. He recognized his power fell short of his adversary's, so he shied from straight confrontations. But a recent tip had altered his approach. Far from withdrawing, he gripped tighter and drove the saber straight into Xiong Baoshan's fist.

Xiong Baoshan's features twisted in alarm at Fu Ling's bold move. Regrettably, altering his own action came too late. Fu Ling's massive blade struck true against the fist, and with a thunderous crack, Xiong Baoshan soared backward. At the same instant, a deep gash marred his hand. Clearly, injury had struck. Without his Dharma power shielding the fist, it might have been utterly ruined.

Fu Ling paused in brief astonishment, but delight soon flooded his features. Next, he heaved the enormous saber high, unleashing a brilliant flash of saber light as he cleaved toward Xiong Baoshan. Xiong Baoshan's complexion had drained to ashen at this point. The prior hit had damaged his core energies, leaving him wounded. Spotting Fu Ling's incoming saber, his face contorted further. He rallied his mana and flung his fist to block the descending giant blade.

BOOM! The explosive clash rang out, trailed by a sharp cry of pain. Xiong Baoshan catapulted rearward. Simultaneously, a gash split his left fist, severing a finger. He coughed up blood in the process. Evidently, this blow had inflicted grave harm. Those from the Allied forces' side paled at the sight. They hadn't foreseen such a swift reversal. Mere moments ago, the duel hung balanced, yet victory tipped decisively in just two strikes.

Still, Fu Ling pressed on without pause. He offered no quarter in his assault. In a blur of speed, he dove at Xiong Baoshan. All the while, he hoisted the broadsword overhead once more. Should that blade descend fully, Xiong Baoshan faced certain death. No chance of survival would remain. Fu Ling truly sought Xiong Baoshan's end, for the arena rules permitted claiming a foe's life.

Suddenly, a command cut through: "Stop! Xiong Baoshan has lost this round!" The words weren't shouted loudly, yet they jolted Fu Ling's frame. His blood surged wildly, and shock etched his face. He instantly recognized the speaker as an Island Lord level powerhouse.

Fu Ling found himself forced to halt. But in that very moment, a chilly huff resounded. "Humph, remember this is the pro-disciples' arena. I suggest you keep clear. This is the first warning. Next time, don't fault me for striking you down!" The retort originated from the blood Buddha Temple. Though not boomed, it hit the ears of various sects' disciples like rolling thunderclaps. It rattled their souls, leaving some queasy and unsteady.

Fu Ling realized a sect elder had intervened on his behalf. Joy swelled within him. Such open support from a senior at this juncture proved rare indeed. Just as he prepared to resume, another voice interjected: "Senior brother Fu, return and recover. We'll clash again soon." It was Zhao Hai speaking. Fu Ling blinked in surprise, yet he nodded and soared back to their lines.

He obeyed Zhao Hai for two key reasons. First, Zhao Hai served as their commander, demanding compliance. Second, his victory over Xiong Baoshan stemmed directly from Zhao Hai's timely cue. During the bout, he'd lagged because he avoided direct clashes with Xiong Baoshan. Plus, his saber style emphasized forceful assaults. Switching to a nimble blade approach against Xiong Baoshan meant forsaking his strengths for weaknesses, naturally putting him on the back foot.

But then, Zhao Hai urged him not to fear the foe and to meet him squarely. Though baffled by the advice, Fu Ling followed through. The result proved startlingly effective. Engaging Xiong Baoshan directly revealed the man's power wasn't as formidable as assumed.

Puzzlement lingered, but he pushed it aside and secured the win swiftly. When Zhao Hai now called him back, Fu Ling voiced no protest and complied at once. Thus, he wheeled around and rejoined his group. He understood this wasn't the moment for questions, so he held his tongue and positioned himself silently amid the ranks.

Observing Fu Ling's demeanor, Zhao Hai inwardly rejoiced. Good thing Fu Ling hadn't probed further. An explanation would have dragged on endlessly. Besides, settling it now wouldn't suit. Earlier, he'd directed Fu Ling to clash head-on upon noticing Xiong Baoshan's power lacked true depth. The initial punch that repelled Fu Ling, appearing vastly superior, tied to the man's odd movement arts. His evasion style was unique. By adjusting flight angle and velocity mid-motion, he amplified force. This boosted not just speed but also collision impact. That extra push made his might seem far beyond Fu Ling's. Afterward, he feigned direct brawls to mask his true limits. In reality, his fist work favored agility over brute force. Though dubbed the Yin Yang mountain river fist, Zhao Hai knew the foe hadn't mastered it fully. At best, he'd grasped the river aspect of the mountain river fist. The mountain part eluded him. The river phase emphasized fluid shifts, while the mountain stressed overwhelming presence and might. Hence, despite the fist's intimidating flair, its raw power fell short.

Fu Ling had fallen for Xiong Baoshan's early ruse, leading to his shaky showing. Had Fu Ling tested strength outright from the start, Xiong Baoshan would have crumbled much sooner. Still, exploiting advantages while dodging flaws counts as standard strategy. Without Zhao Hai's hint, a loss to the mountain river fist would mark Fu Ling's own shortfall, not Xiong Baoshan's cunning.

Under normal circumstances, meddling in such a duel from afar proves nearly impossible. Even attempting voice transmission to alert Fu Ling would fail, as the voices couldn't penetrate. The battlefield's spiritual Qi swirled in wild chaos, crippling techniques reliant on fine Qi control like transmission. In truth, it rendered them unusable. Thus, no one employs voice transmission mid-fight. Zhao Hai stood apart. His command over spiritual Qi outmatched all others'. That's how he pulled it off.