The Young Master Storms the City
Chapter 895: Long Yun, Your Opponent is Me

Chapter 895: Chapter 895: Long Yun, Your Opponent is Me

"Puh!"

Huo Erba spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, and his massive body even began to tremble.

This was Long Yun, the strongest martial artist in Capital City.

Even those Transcendent Realm powerhouses weren’t his match.

How could these palm strikes be so easily endured?

The force from those palm strikes that had entered his body was now wildly rampaging through his meridians, causing various severe injuries.

If not for his incredibly robust body, he would’ve already collapsed.

"Not bad, not bad, this powerful body is just right for my cultivation technique," Long Yun said, nodding his head in satisfaction. His right palm, quick as lightning, reached out to seal Huo Erba’s pressure points.

Such a talent was too much of a waste in the hands of that degenerate Ning Fan—he intended to take this man as his disciple, properly guide him, and lead him onto the righteous path.

"You dare!"

Seeing this, Shuang’er sprang up from below the stage and dashed straight towards Long Yun.

"Miss Shuang’er, you’re stubbornly refusing to see reason. I have no choice but to employ some measures," Long Yun said with a face full of regret, shaking his head. "One day, you’ll understand the pains I’ve taken."

As he spoke, several more streams of vigor shot out, intending to seal Shuang’er’s vital points from the air.

In the face of Long Yun’s technique, neither Huo Erba nor Shuang’er had a way to prevent it, and could only let him make his move.

Just then, a calm voice suddenly came from the sky.

"I told you to wait for me, why did you insist on coming here early?"

Everyone looked reflexively in the direction of the voice, but it was just a blur before their eyes; they didn’t see anything clearly.

By the time they realized what was happening, a tall figure had already positioned himself between the three of them.

"Long Yun, you’re my opponent. Why bother making things difficult for my disciples?"

With an unflustered expression, Ning Fan raised his right palm and easily caught Long Yun’s bursts of vigor in his palm—crushingly pulverizing them with ease.

Ning Fan!

The family heads of the seven major families all rose to their feet, their gazes fixating on that silhouette.

"I didn’t expect you to actually have the courage to come!"

"We thought you were afraid to die and sent your two disciples here as a distraction!"

"Ning Fan, since you’ve come today, don’t even think about leaving!"

"This will be your burial ground!"

The crowd, upon hearing the voices of the seven family heads, also realized the identity of the young man.

An uproar of various discussions followed.

"So this is Ning Fan? He doesn’t seem very strong."

"Hmph, I told you, this guy is just someone fishing for fame. How could he have real strength?"

"But those two disciples of his..."

"They’ve definitely been deceived by this kid’s tricks! How could talents acknowledged by Master Long Yun acknowledge this kid as their master!"

Because of the public opinion shaped by the seven major families, most people firmly believed Ning Fan was an incompetent braggart.

Only Long Yun looked at Ning Fan with an unusual gleam in his eye.

"The ability to crumble my vigor with your bare hands indicates your strength is not so frail."

Just this alone didn’t fit with what the seven families had said.

According to them, Ning Fan was someone who relied on cunning schemes, violent and fierce in nature.

He had some strength, but was not placed as strong.

Yet Ning Fan standing before him was at odds with these descriptions.

Violent and fierce, yet he did not show such countenance when he saw his disciples hurt by Long Yun’s own hand.

Not strong, and yet he could crush his vigor with his bare hands.

Long Yun wasn’t a fool—he had believed the seven families before because of past favorable impressions.

But he trusted more in what he saw with his own eyes.

"Is that so? What exactly have the seven families told you about me?" Ning Fan asked calmly, his hands behind his back.

Long Yun watched him for a while, then slowly shook his head, "No matter what they have told me, your eyes show no reverence."

"Reverence?" Ning Fan narrowed his eyes, "Who do I need to revere?"

"The power, the heavens and the earth, life, everything in this world that human effort cannot achieve," Long Yun said, gazing deeply at him. "Yet I see none of this in your eyes."

"So what you’re saying is, I should revere these so-called great houses, their power, and do whatever they say, is that right?"

"That’s not what I mean, but you did kill members of the Li Family and He Family, and you show no reverence for human life."

"They died because they sought to kill me. The principle that killers are killed isn’t something you should fail to understand."

The two met not with blows, but with a clash of ideologies.

Words without swords, but even more thrilling.

The loser in this debate would be at a psychological disadvantage, and it would affect the heart of the martial artist.

"But you’re too cruel; while it’s just to kill a murder, why should you exterminate an entire family?"

"I only kill those who should be killed. If I killed them, it means they deserved to die."

"That’s twisted logic."

"And that’s unwarranted mercy."

Their paths of cultivation were vastly different, leading to divergent beliefs in this matter.

Ning Fan never felt there was anything wrong with killing those who sought his life.

Besides, he was not someone who took pleasure in killing—only when someone truly harbored the intent to kill him would he strike.

Long Yun, however, lived by the creed that one should not be too ruthless, even to mortal enemies, and that they might be spared.

"It seems our philosophies are irreconcilable," Long Yun remarked softly.

"This battle is inevitable," Ning Fan responded.

As their words fell, an invisible aura began to rise steadily.