Damon's Ascension-Chapter 102: War in Xiangyang 3

While Damon warmed up slightly, another soldier jumped into the ring after being given a look from the squad captain.

He was leaner than Jin Hu, with a shifty gait and a wiry, confident air. His eyes were sharp, and his hands were wrapped in thin iron bracers.

"I, Liang Fang, trained for seven years at the Golden Peak Hall and have reached small accomplishment in the Drifting Serpent Steps as well as the Seven Illusory Palms. Unlike the brute Jin Hu, I do not rely on force alone!" the man announced loudly, making sure the crowd could hear every syllable of his grand introduction.

There was a low murmur of recognition.

"Golden Peak Hall? That’s one of the top martial schools in the southern provinces!"

"Seven Illusory Palms? They say each strike overlaps with six shadows!"

"Drifting Serpent Steps is known to confuse even elite officers!"

Liang Fang took a stance, one foot behind the other, arms loose and fluid.

"You’re strong, foreigner," he acknowledged with a snort.

Then he broke out into a cold sneer. "But I don’t need strength. My movements are like water, and my strikes are like the wind. Let’s see you dodge like a ghost!"

After saying this, Liang Fang moved suddenly, his body weaving forward like smoke blown forward by the wind. His legs shifted with elegant unpredictability, while his palms lashed out at Damon from multiple angles synchronously; left, right, above, and somehow even behind.

The crowd’s eyes struggled to keep up as this kind of speed surpassed their cognition, but their mouths were somehow able to keep up as they gasped and commented.

"Truly! The Illusory Palms!"

"Even the afterimages look real!"

"Drifting Serpent Steps is known to confuse even elite officers!"

Damon took a glance at the movements and decided to take one step back, just one. The outcome of this was to make every shadowy strike pass within an inch of him much like before while he was completely unruffled.

’Hmm, a Power of 2 given the wind force, the Mobility is definitely 3 and almost reaching 4, I’d have to hit him at least once to check his Fortitude as for Mentality... maybe 1.5? He is slightly sharper than the other guy.’ Damon thought to himself in that short period of time, his brain at 5 points faster than a modern 16-core CPU.

After making these dodges, he waited for his enemy to expend all his effort, kindly allowing Liang Fang to complete his ’dance.’ ƒгeewebnovёl.com

Then, in the next moment, Damon’s left hand flicked forward with the kind of backhand typical in African households, a sharp, no-nonsense strike fathers used to straighten out unruly sons. The same kind you’d find in Latin homes, and even in some old-school Caucasian families.

It was the kind of backhanded slap meant to reset the thinking of a wayward youth, usually delivered with a firm "Are you sick in the head?"

PAK!

Liang Fang spun in place from the sheer force, his head snapping to the side as he collapsed with a full-body tremble, arms flailing in a comical way.

The entire square went dead silent for a moment.

Then, they roared in shock.

"...He slapped him!"

"With a backhand! Just a backhand!!"

"One move?! That was the Seven Illusory Palms!"

Damon exhaled calmly, rubbing his hand slightly. "I see. This is the perfect example of technique without foundation."

He turned toward the captain. "The third fighter?"

The captain’s face was now openly pale, realizing that no matter who he would send out the outcome was unlikely to change. They had encountered a hidden expert.

Still, he barked, "Li Chang! You’re next!"

This time, a mountain of a man stepped forward and unlike Jin Hu or Liang Fang, Li Chang didn’t posture or throw harsh words forward.

He simply strode forward with measured steps, each one landing like a drumbeat. His body was thick and plated with partial armor, his face square and unreadable.

A few in the crowd gasped softly.

"That’s Iron Wall Li! A top guard from the capital!"

"I heard he trained in the Iron Body Sutra for ten years! His skin can stop blades!"

"Not a flashy type, but he’s the real deal. Even the captain only won a spar with him by a hair."

Li Chang bowed slightly. "I do not believe in words. I only know the fist."

Damon gave a faint smile. "Then let your fists speak clearly."

The two faced each other in silence for five seconds.

Then Li Chang lunged, his entire body like a boulder rolling downhill as he didn’t bother with fancy moves, utilizing just sheer speed and power. His bear-like arms closed around Damon like twin battering rams aiming to crush a gate to pieces.

BOOM!

His punch missed, but the sheer force caused a thunderous clap that made those closer to the stage cover their ears in pain, but they still noticed that Damon wasn’t there anymore.

Damon had already slipped past Li Chang’s stance, moved inside his guard, and placed two fingers against his neck.

With a flick of his finger, there was a crack of pressure like bone shattering that echoed in the square... then silence.

Li Chang’s eyes rolled up, and he collapsed with a dull thud, completely unconscious or likely dead.

Everyone watched, mouths agape as their brains were beginning to release smoke.

"Did he just... press a pressure point?"

"Too fast!! I didn’t even see it."

"What kind of scholar is this?! He makes sect disciples look like village thugs!"

Even the soldiers at the perimeter were shifting uncomfortably, unsure if they should draw weapons and avenge their comrades or bow to this obvious martial venerate and ask for guidance.

After retracting his fingers, Damon finally looked toward the captain and spoke lightly.

"Three matches. Three victories. I believe we had an agreement."

The captain’s mouth opened, but no words came. Eventually, he forced a nod. "...Release the prisoners."

The soldiers moved, subdued and hesitant, to cut the ropes of the bound trio, who stared at Damon with wide eyes.

As the men slumped forward in relief, the crowd began to cheer hesitantly, not in celebration, but more like shocked admiration at seeing something impossible.

Inside the hidden carriage, the Second Young Master of the Ji family leaned back slowly, exhaling with a gleam in his eye.

"He didn’t even activate Internal Force, not once."

The Third Elder’s face was hard as stone.

"...If this man is a mere scholar, then I am the Heavenly Emperor."

The wind blew gently across the square as Damon simply adjusted his robes and turned to the freed prisoners. "Gentlemen, walk with me. We have much to discuss."

"Stop right there!!!"

A loud, arrogant voice echoed across the town square, silencing the growing murmurs like a guillotine falling on soft necks.

"Who dares to injure men of the Sun family without permission? Have you grown tired of living, you black-skinned barbarian?!"

The crowd parted like a tide, locals bowing and pulling back with fear as a new group approached. They wore azure robes embroidered in gold and with tiger emblems sewn on their sleeves, each one radiating the signature confidence of the rich and untouchable.

At their center was a tall young man with handsome Asiatic features, a jade pendant dangling from his hip, and an ornate folding fan clutched in one hand. His expression was arrogant to the point of absurdity, chin tilted slightly upward as if smelling something foul.

Behind him was a dozen retainers, all visibly armed, and a few experts whose body language marked them as elites surpassing the mere soldiers here.

Inside the carriage still parked nearby, the Second Young Master narrowed his eyes and spoke with amusement.

"Oh look, it’s the illustrious Young Master Sun Jianhao... otherwise known as the ’Scourge of the Sun Family.’ I’ve always wondered if he was really born under the Heavenly Calamity star."

The Third Elder exhaled heavily. "Troublesome. He’ll throw oil into fire just to watch the flames. We should leave before his idiotic actions manage to somehow drag us in."

But Second Young Master Ji shook his head, eyes fixed on Damon. "No... this might be the perfect chance. If Sun Jianhao tries to recruit him with that mouth of his, and obviously fails, then we offer a softer hand."

On the square, Sun Jianhao waved his fan sharply and barked while pointing rudely at Damon. "You! Scholar! You’ve wounded our guards and meddled in family affairs! By all rights, I should have your legs broken and your corpse hung on the city wall!"

Damon’s expression did not even change as he glanced at this newcomer with hidden amusement. He had come across mentions of these ridiculous "young masters" while researching Chinese history and initially dismissed them as over-the-top caricatures.

Further digging revealed it was a common trope in web novels — a blend of arrogance, privilege, and blind confidence — and so he’d chalked it up to fiction. Damon never imagined he’d actually encounter one, let alone so early into the Instance. Yet here he was, facing the walking stereotype in the flesh.

Still, he did not lash out immediately but rather decided to see if reason would work.

To that end, Damon folded his arms behind his back and inquired with a slight smile at the edge of his lips. "I see. And are the guards I defeated part of your private army, or simply men who happened to share a name?"