For An Ziyang, the situation seemed to have reached a dead end.
Hidden weapons and poison could only achieve success when used covertly. In a direct confrontation, with the opponent already on guard, their effectiveness was largely negated.
The Ming Cult members, wary of An Ziyang's poison, did not rush forward but instead gradually compressed his space.
Once they were within range and attacked simultaneously, no matter how many tricks An Ziyang had, he would be unable to evade nearly ten attacks, each not weaker than his own, at the same time.
An Ziyang also seemed to be in a hurry, dashing left and right, but he was forced back every time.
His face grew increasingly anxious, as if he had lost his composure. After being forced back again and sustaining a wound, he suddenly threw the sword scabbard in his left hand at one of the men.
That man sneered, raising his weapon to block it.
"Don't move!"
A calm voice rang out, and a figure flew forward to stop him, but it was too late.
Although the man heard the warning and couldn't retract his move, he actively released most of his power, only gently intending to stop the scabbard on his weapon.
However, it was just a slight touch.
Bang!
Suddenly, the scabbard broke into two pieces, and thick white smoke spewed out from the fracture again!
"Damn it!"
"You mother! This trick again!"
The Ming Cult members were speechless!
How much lime powder and potent poison did this kid hide on him!? Are you trying to destroy opium like Humen!?
If he were caught in a rain shower, half the people in Quanzhou City would probably be poisoned!
Amidst the thick smoke, An Ziyang laughed heartily.
"Go on, be arrogant! Be arrogant again!"
"This young master just has a lot of money! This Tang Sect potent poison, this young master buys three thousand taels of it a year! It's enough to choke all you poor devils to death!"
"I have a few catties on me, guess how much!"
The calm voice couldn't remain calm anymore.
"Don't bother with him, just protect your front! He's surrounded, as long as we don't panic, he can't escape!"
He was a little anxious.
Second-rate, when had he ever put a second-rate person in his eyes? If it were a head-on fight, if An Ziyang could last three moves against him, he would consider himself unworthy of his master's teachings! The sounds from above had gradually ceased, clearly indicating that Li Miao had won, and he could come looking for them at any moment to chop them into fine pieces.
How could they really be held up by this kid!?
Just as he was fully unleashing his true qi to dispel the poisonous mist, a scream rang out in his ear.
"Ah!"
"What happened!?" he asked hurriedly.
"Caltrops! That kid scattered caltrops on the ground!" The injured person had just answered when his voice suddenly weakened.
Then there was a muffled thud, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Undoubtedly, those caltrops were also poisoned.
"Is this kid's surname An or Tang? Is there anything on him that isn't poisoned?"
"We can't drag this out anymore! Even if it means getting injured, we must kill this kid first!"
"Forget the lime! Cover your mouths and noses, and charge him together!"
"Good!"
Everyone responded in unison, forcing their eyes open in the lime powder, and clearly saw An Ziyang's position.
Bright Palm!
Carefree Blade Art!
Great Wind Cloud Flying Palm!
Five Elements Blazing Fire Slash!
Except for the leader, who remained still, guarding against An Ziyang's follow-up moves, eight Ming Cult ultimate techniques simultaneously attacked An Ziyang.
An Ziyang had no more room to retreat, all the space in front of him was completely filled.
He seemed to have fallen into a desperate situation.
"Alas—"
He sighed deeply.
"There's still one who didn't fall for it."
In an instant, he pulled out a black cylindrical object from behind him and aimed it forward.
This cylinder was only as thick as a forearm and about a foot long. It was made of cast iron, with a spring mechanism at one end and dense small holes at the other.
The few Ming Cult members, struggling to open their eyes in the lime powder, now had blurred vision. In a flash, they couldn't distinguish what that thing was.
Click.
With a crisp sound, An Ziyang pressed the spring mechanism.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh—
Rainstorm Pear Blossoms.
The eight Ming Cult experts felt as if they had been drenched in a rain shower, with dense, gentle touches all over their bodies.
Then, their moves lost their power.
An Ziyang tossed aside the cylinder and parried left and right with his sword.
Even though the Ming Cult experts had lost their strength, An Ziyang was still only a second-rate fighter.
At this moment, he was in precarious situations.
Finally, after four large gashes appeared on his body, An Ziyang, panting heavily, propped his sword on the ground to steady himself.
And the eight Ming Cult experts had all fallen, their chests no longer rising and falling.
The Ming Cult expert who hadn't moved had now dispelled the poisonous mist, and when he reopened his eyes, he saw this scene.
His gaze swept over the shattered cylinder on the ground, then he looked up and stared at An Ziyang.
"Rainstorm Pear Blossom Needle."
"The Tang Sect's ultimate treasure, how do you possess it?"
An Ziyang, breathing heavily, scoffed.
Please... collect... 6... books... now...!
"When did I ever say I wasn't from the Tang Sect?"
"But your surname isn't Tang."
"Heh heh… you poor devils really don't understand."
An Ziyang revealed a rampant smile, a smile that seemed to say, "Sorry, being rich is really great."
"This young master spends tens of thousands of taels of silver in the Tang Sect every year, does my surname still matter?"
"Is there a problem with me, a Tang Sect Elder, borrowing some items from the sect for self-defense? If there's a problem, this young master will bring another two catties of potent poison, and then the problem will be that I'm too naive, and I should borrow ten or eight more items and use them all up!"
The Ming Cult expert was speechless with emotion.
After a long moment, he slowly spoke.
"But, you still couldn't kill me."
"Then you still have to die."
If hidden weapons were that powerful, then the Jianghu would have changed its surname to Tang long ago.
These Tang Sect hidden weapons are dangerous because they are silent when launched and lethal upon drawing blood. However, their speed is not very fast, nor do they have the variations used by hidden weapon masters, and their range is not large. If released head-on, they pose little threat to first-rate experts.
If not for the confined terrain, with the Ming Cult members crowded together, having no space to maneuver, and their vision obscured, they would not have been hit at all.
Now, only An Ziyang and the calm Ming Cult leader remained, and the poisonous mist had also dissipated.
No matter what other hidden weapons An Ziyang had, they would be difficult to make effective.
The Ming Cult expert slowly raised his sword, brought it in front of him, and looked at An Ziyang.
"Don't you still have a sword? Let me see what other tricks you have besides these disgusting things!"
With that, he charged forward with his sword!
He thrust his sword at An Ziyang.
An Ziyang likewise pointed his sword distantly at his face.
As he raised his hand, the Ming Cult expert sneered.
"You are too cunning, it turns out you have no real ability!"
Because An Ziyang's sword move was scattered and unfocused, completely without threat.
With just one sword, only one sword, he could parry An Ziyang's sword and cut off his head!
In a flash, the distance between the two had closed.
He clearly saw the sword in An Ziyang's hand, its style peculiar, with a curved hilt, and two thin tubes extending from the quillons, clamping the blade in between.
"Heh, what nonsense!"
He sneered, about to parry An Ziyang's sword.
But then he heard An Ziyang let out a cold laugh.
And then.
Bang!
A loud bang, accompanied by a flash of fire, erupted from the thin tubes of the sword in An Ziyang's hand.
He felt as if something had grazed his neck, and he felt a slight pain.
In a daze, he heard An Ziyang's rampant laughter.
"What era is this, and you're still practicing traditional martial arts!"
"Times have changed!"
