"What terrifying murderous aura this beast has."
The instant Lian Youming laid eyes on the fierce tiger, his heart skipped a beat. A foul, coppery wind blasted against his face; his scalp tingling, he threw himself sideways in an urgent dodge.
A tiger claw as large as a cattail-leaf fan grazed past his back by a hair's breadth. Several bloody gashes burst open soundlessly, tearing through his clothes as blood welled forth.
Lian Youming's mind shook violently, but after a fleeting flash of terror, cold fury surged in to take its place.
Li Da was attacked from both front and back. While Lian Youming couldn't go help him, there was no way in hell he could let this beast slip past.
Stabilizing his footing, Lian Youming expelled a sharp breath. A resonant toad-like croaking roared within his chest and abdomen. Instead of retreating, he lunged forward to meet it.
The fierce tiger leaped and landed with blinding speed. Missing with its first strike, it crouched against the stone wall like a cat, pushed off with its hind legs to borrow momentum, whipped its tail, and lunged once more, swinging its massive head.
Seeing this, Lian Youming dropped low, falling to his knees and sliding backward on his shins. As they crossed paths, one high and one low, he gripped his military dagger, preparing to disembowel the beast. Unexpectedly, the thick, terrifying tiger tail whipped around with a whoosh, lashing toward his chest like a steel whip.
Feeling the tremendous force behind it, Lian Youming's scalp went numb. Breaking off his attack, he scrambled and rolled out from beneath the Northeast tiger, then pushed off the ground to flip upward, seizing the tiger's fur and flattening himself onto its back.
With just these two lunges, Lian Youming had already danced on the edge of death. Not only was his back bleeding, but the tail had still caught half of his face, leaving it entirely numb and his mouth full of coppery sweetness, so swollen he couldn't even speak.
The taste of blood brought a vicious glint to Lian Youming's eyes. Without wasting a breath, he clung to the tiger's back and drove his military dagger downward in a frenzy, stabbing again and again.
Scalding blood splattered across his face, staining his vision crimson.
"Heh heh... die for meee..."
A slurred, bizarre hiss forced its way through Lian Youming's clenched teeth.
Yet the beast had thick hide, tough meat, and iron-like bones. Amid the frantic barrage of stabs, Lian Youming suddenly heard a sharp snap. The tip of the military dagger actually snapped off, as though wedged fast in bone.
Seeing this, Lian Youming released the hilt, gripped the scruff of the tiger's neck with all his might, and swung his fist down like a hammer.
For humans, the underground fortress's tunnels were fairly spacious, but for a beast of this size, they were undeniably cramped.
Spurred by agonizing pain, the fierce tiger tried to twist its waist to turn around, but with space so tight, it could only thrash and leap in madness, barreling forward on a rampage.
Lian Youming was dragged along, smashing against the stone walls on either side, shattering lightbulbs one after another in a shower of sparks and flashing arcs, the impacts battering him until he coughed up mouthfuls of blood.
Yet with agony racking his body and life on the line, Lian Youming's ferocity only spiked. Channeling silk-reeling force into his right fist, he hammered frantically at the tiger's head with suicidal abandon.
As the force penetrated, the Northeast tiger beneath him grew even more crazed. Ducking its head, it angled its body and scraped violently along the stone wall.
Lian Youming's expression changed drastically. He hastily shifted to the tiger's flank. Amid the chaos, man and beast hurtled dozens of meters until they sheared a stone stele clean in two. Then came a deafening boom—behind it lay another expanse of space, revealed to be a hidden door.
Withered bones were strewn across the secret chamber—those of Japanese soldiers, as well as the elderly and children. Some had not even decomposed into bare bones yet. There were also piles of firearms and ammunition, and faint gnaw marks remained on some of the remains.
Lian Youming had no time to examine the room. The tiger dragged him hurtling toward the other side until they crashed through another stone wall.
Amid the billowing dust and dirt, yet another secret chamber was revealed.
Inside, a forest of white bones stood once again, a chilling sight.
Lian Youming's eyes went wide. Lying on the ground were several living figures, men and women, their fates unknown—and among them was a frail figure: Xiao Li.
Yet he and the tiger were rolling together in a brawl; he could spare only a fleeting glance before throwing all his focus back into surviving the beast.
According to old folklore, a tiger was an embodiment of pure yang, its sinews tough, bones ironclad, its body heat capable of melting winter snow. Its weight alone had to be at least five or six hundred jin, pressing down on him with suffocating force.
Spotting the gear scattered on the floor, Lian Youming clamped his legs around the tiger's belly. Taking advantage of the moment when the tiger pushed itself up, he swayed his body sideways and grabbed a rifle fixed with a bayonet, preparing to stab it down.
Unexpectedly, as if sensing the danger, the Northeast tiger leaned and collapsed sideways, pinning Lian Youming's right leg. Its massive, grotesque head, caked in blood and filth, whipped around to snap at him.
Not good, Lian Youming thought, his scalp tingling with dread. He quickly held the rifle horizontal, wedging it across the tiger's jaws.
The vicious tiger didn't just bite down; its tail lashed out with a crack against his back, while a paw swiped toward him at the same time.
As the tail struck his back, Lian Youming's face went deathly pale. Fortunately, the claw couldn't quite reach him for the moment, frantically clawing at the stone floor instead.
Yet faced with the massive head shoved right against his face, Lian Youming could spare no attention for anything else. He gritted his teeth and shoved the rifle with all his might, bracing against the terrifying maw.
The tiger clamped sideways on the rifle barrel, saliva dripping from its jaws. Its breath washed over him like a sweltering heat wave, rank and foul. Its eyes burned with savage cruelty, the pupils contracted like two yellow beans, baring its fangs and twisting its face like a demon from hell, enough to make anyone tremble.
Perhaps sensing the rifle would not break, the tiger swiped a claw. Lian Youming felt a tremendous force rip through the stock, wrenching his arms aside. Seeing the jaws about to turn toward him, he had no choice but to let go of the rifle, using the opening to slide his left hand along the muzzle and unlatch the bayonet.
Now, there was not the slightest room for retreat, nor any chance of luck.
The tiger snapped toward his face. Lian Youming jerked his body back, and in the split second of breathing room, he narrowed his eyes and flicked his wrist, hurling the bayonet into the tiger's gaping mouth like a bolt of lightning.
The tiger clamped down, catching Lian Youming's left shoulder, but after only a flash of searing pain, the jaws popped back open.
The short blade was wedged between its upper and lower palate, gouging deep and sending blood pouring out.
Lian Youming bared his teeth in a grin, blood seeping through them. How could he let the beast spit the blade out? Decisive and ruthless, he gathered all his strength, propped up the tiger's lower jaw with his left hand, and drove his right fist directly into its skull.
The jaws, trying to open, slammed shut instantly.
Agonized by the pain, the fierce tiger scrambled up, howling and wailing as it tried to spit out the blade. Seizing the opening, Lian Youming pressed the offensive, leaping forward to wrap his arms around its neck, raising his elbow and swinging his fists, battering it until hot blood overflowed from its mouth.
Hot blood splattered beneath his punches, while blood bubbled from his own shoulder as well.
With that single bite, the bone in his left shoulder felt nearly crushed; had it bitten clean through, half his body would have been torn away.
A lingering chill of near death ignited fury rather than fear within him—he had come that close to dying in this beast's maw!
Yet before his fury could last three seconds, the tiger's tail struck like a steel whip, slamming into his back.
Caught off guard, blood and qi surged chaotically in his chest and belly. Drained of stamina, he flipped right off the tiger's back.
"Cough, cough... how the hell is this thing so durable?!"
The fierce tiger didn't pursue him. Instead, it shook its head, pawing frantically at its own muzzle until it was a bloody mess, finally managing to dislodge the bayonet.
"Ah!"
Perhaps the commotion of man and beast crashing through had been too great; within the pile of bones, several unconscious martial artists stirred awake. The moment they opened their eyes and witnessed the scene, screams tore from their throats.
"Look out!"
Lian Youming had time to shout only a single warning before the tiger's eyes snapped around. In a single pounce, it leaped into the crowd. A leap, a bite, a tail-sweep—flesh and blood flew. With a swipe of its claws, one person's abdomen was torn open, intestines spilling across the floor.
Of the four who had stood up, in the blink of an eye only one young man remained, his face pale as ash, retreating in sheer terror and fleeing toward the exit without looking back.
Seeing the tiger opening its jaws to pounce again, Lian Youming spat out a mouthful of blood and drew his pistol with his left hand.
Bang! Bang!
Firing the pistol, Lian Youming charged forward.
Yet when the bullets struck, the tiger merely swayed, showing no further reaction.
Xiao Li slowly regained consciousness on the ground at that moment. But seeing the fierce tiger inches away, she seemed paralyzed with fright, sitting motionless in a daze.
"Roar!"
The tiger opened its jaws to bite.
"Die!"
Lian Youming's eyes widened fiercely. Letting out a roar of his own, he leaped into the air, tilted his body, and slammed into it with all his might.
Even weighing hundreds of jin, the fierce tiger staggered under the impact, losing its balance.
At this moment, all extraneous thoughts in Lian Youming's mind were swept away; only a single conviction remained: butcher this beast.
Amid roaring fury and hatred, he stamped down on one foot, reestablishing his center of gravity. A meridian inside his body thrummed and surged, and the second barrier of the Golden Bell Shield broke through at this critical juncture.
As the tiger stumbled, Lian Youming sucked in a massive breath like a whale drinking in the sea. The fabric across his back rippled faintly; his entire right arm instantly swelled a full size, veins bulging. His fingers curled into a hammer-like fist, and as air compressed within his palm, it unleashed a shrill, piercing whistle of fist-wind.
"Down!"
Lian Youming's brows raised and eyes widened with boundless killing intent. Aiming at the massive head slowly lifting before him, he unleashed a punch with all his strength.
The fierce tiger had also risen, a sharp claw sweeping up to latch onto his chest, tearing through his clothes and leaving several grotesque, bloody gashes.
Pop!
The dull, strange sound was not thunderous, but like a fleshy palm striking water.
In an instant, all murderous intent came to a screeching halt.
The swaying tiger head, lifted halfway, fell heavily back to the ground, blood spilling from its seven orifices—already dead.
With that punch landed, Lian Youming's body went limp. Completely spent, he collapsed onto his rear, gasping desperately for breath, his right hand soaked crimson.
Looking at the blood-drenched Lian Youming before her, Xiao Li asked in a trembling voice, "Are you all right?"
Though Lian Youming grimaced in agony, he still gave a raspy chuckle. "Minor injury. Once I get out, I'll drag this beast along and eat it—that'll make up for it all."
It had cost him half his life.
Lian Youming looked at the grotesque claw marks lacerating his chest. He hurriedly calmed his breathing and used the internal binding technique of the Golden Bell Shield, slowly drawing the torn flesh back together bit by bit.
It was not healing, merely closing the wounds to stem the bleeding.
Yet after catching his breath for only a few moments, Lian Youming got up and walked over to the scattered firearms. Picking through them, he scavenged a pile of hand grenades and a light machine gun. But he didn't notice Xiao Li wiping the blood splattered across her cheek; the crimson hue reflected in her eyes, seemingly staining her pupils red—a look of struggle, of eerie malice, yet mingled with cowardice, as if an inner war raged within her.
"What's your name?"
Inspecting the weapons, Lian Youming answered without looking back, "Lian Youming... Don't panic. I'll take you down the mountain in a bit. Don't ever come back up to this wretched place."
Talking to himself, he glanced again at the bones covering the ground, his expression complicated.
It seemed Li Da had been right: this place truly was the burial ground of those Kwantung Army soldiers, as well as the abducted villagers.
Yet by the looks of it, most had died inside secret chambers, unknown to the world, never seeing the light of day.
Lian Youming cast a quick look around and spotted several piles of scattered paper ash in the corner, as though someone had come specifically to make sacrificial offerings—and to the women and children among the villagers, no less.
The remains of the Japanese soldiers were all piled to one side, while those of the women and children were arranged with meticulous neatness.
Looking at the countless bones, large and small, laid out so neatly, Lian Youming felt a heavy weight settle on his heart.
But remembering that Li Da was still fighting, he strapped on the grenades, hoisted the light machine gun, and said, "Let's go. We're fighting our way out."
The girl uttered a quiet "Mm" and hurried after him.
In the tunnel.
Li Da strode forward, not even looking as his fists struck left and right. Though several figures pursued him relentlessly, unleashing an endless barrage of techniques, none could breach within two feet of him.
Seeing Lian Youming unharmed, Li Da suddenly chuckled. "Don't shoot. Opportunities like this are rare. Consider it compensation for acting as bait—I'll let you see how they fight to broaden your horizons, lest you roam the jianghu in the future blind to everything."
Lian Youming had rushed back eagerly, just about to raise the light machine gun to help. Hearing this, he realized Li Da was handling things with ease, and let out a sigh of relief.
Li Da smiled gently. His gaze swept over the young girl behind Lian Youming, then turned back to the crowd besieging him. Shifting and parrying, he spoke at a leisurely pace.
"What I'm using is Dai-style Xinyi boxing. Watch closely."
"And this old gentleman uses Chuojiao, combined with Tantui and Ditang styles. One look tells you he's an expert who specializes in lower-body techniques."
"And this young lady is using Fanziquan, mixed with a few moves of Huaquan and military saber techniques. Not bad."
"He is an adept of Shaanxi Hongquan, skilled in the Eighteen Clothes-Catching Falls. He opens with throws and grapples, backed by the finger strength of the Eagle Claw martial art and the hooking hands of Praying Mantis boxing—first blinding the eyes, then engaging in close-quarters combat."
"This one is using Sanhuang Paochui. His foundation is a bit unsolid."
"The one behind me strikes for the flank and turns to reach for the groin—a lethal move from Baguazhang. Keep an eye out for that in the future. Oh? Mixed with Chen-style boxing techniques, too. Not bad. Chen-style Taiji has deep roots with the Taiji School; you might have to deal with them down the line."
"The fellow to my right has methods rarely seen. If I remember correctly, that must be Southern-style Pak Mei boxing. Vicious and swift, strikes fast as lightning, truly formidable... There's also the parting, settling, and inch-force of Hung Gar, Choy Gar, and hey, under-the-skirt kicks and hands-in-the-sleeves. Interesting."
"And this one—she's the Vice Sect Master of the White Lotus Sect. She's mastered Baji, Xingyi, Wudang swordplay, Shaolin fist techniques, and has even cultivated the Five Thunder Palm. Hardness and softness complementing each other, truly extraordinary—perhaps even more formidable than my younger sister. Such deep foundations... Splendid! The next generation has arrived; heroes under heaven truly are as numerous as carp crossing the river..."
Chapter 47