Chapter Twelve: Leaving with Grace

The so-called Eighteen Forms to Break the Enemy, passed down from the general spoken of by the Daoist, possess an unmistakable martial style rooted in military tradition. Bold, upright, and forceful, the forms emphasize momentum above all.

The first six forms are foundational—three punches and three kicks—designed for the chaos of battle. The middle six are derivatives of the basics, enriched by stories of generals who vanquished foes across thirteen dynasties, forging a battlefield spirit unconstrained by fear or hesitation. The final six forms are named after the six divine beasts, symbolizing the four dimensions, embodying a martial pursuit to shatter the void and break free from the cage, seeking liberation and ease.

Yet the general who crafted these forms was, after all, a disciple of military strategy; though accomplished in martial arts, he never truly reached the pinnacle, the shattering of the void. Thus, the last six forms are little more than empty names, lacking the true mystery of transcending limits.

For Liu Chen, such heights remain distant. He has only just mastered the first six forms, and is content if he can apply them in combat. He has no time for the martial intent of the middle forms, let alone the final transcendent ones.

Compared to orthodox martial arts, which focus on refining body and spirit, the Eighteen Forms to Break the Enemy, steeped in military pragmatism, require only courage and resolve. Once learned, there are no strict demands to deploy them in battle.

Moreover, Liu Chen is now a corpse, free from the usual fear of injury that plagues novices. His lack of hesitation aligns perfectly with the spirit of this martial art.

So when Liu Chen parried the blows from the three strongmen, he wasted no time and immediately countered with a straight punch.

Such a fighting style would be considered a grave error by most martial artists—a reckless opening, especially when surrounded, leaving his life at the mercy of his foes.

The Daoist atop the earthen fortress was overjoyed to see Liu Chen make such a mistake. He commanded one strongman to entangle Liu Chen, while the other two seized the opportunity, bringing their eight-sided hammers down from left and right.

A sharp crack resounded.

In terms of speed, Liu Chen's punch was faster than the hammers being swung. His straight punch struck solidly against the fist of the strongman confronting him, and immense force surged through the contact, shattering the strongman's body and turning him back into a talisman with a single sound.

“Where did such a martial expert come from? Remarkable! With a punch like that, he must have the cultivation of a blood furnace. No wonder Qingzong couldn't withstand even a single exchange!”

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Upon seeing his strongman dispersed by Liu Chen's fist, the Daoist gasped. For a Spirit Treasure Daoist specializing in talismans and summoning spirits, nothing is more terrifying than a formidable martial artist. No matter how powerful their spells, if one is caught up close, death is all but certain.

Still, seeing the other two strongmen's hammers already descending, and Liu Chen unable to dodge after his punch, the Daoist's heart eased.

“He must be a martial artist who has trained single-mindedly, inexperienced in the ways of the world. Truly fortunate!”

In this world where Daoist arts manifest miracles, anyone with experience knows how dangerous it is to let a Daoist freely cast spells. Normally, a martial expert would either use a powerful bow or sneak attack, always aiming to catch the spellcaster off guard.

If that were the case, a martial artist with the cultivation of a blood furnace would make any Daoist below the rank of immortal tremble in fear.

A heavy thud echoed.

Watching the two mighty hammers land squarely on Liu Chen, the Daoist atop the fortress finally relaxed. Just as Daoists dread being caught up close, martial artists fear being struck by spells.

When hit by such strongmen, even armor offers little protection. The blunt force of the eight-sided hammer can only be endured physically. Though martial experts are far tougher than ordinary folk, their bodies are still flesh and blood, not truly made of iron.

But Liu Chen is no ordinary man. Though he now feels joy and anger, his blood has grown cold—he is a zombie. Though he cannot escape unscathed, he will not suffer the fatal internal injuries a living martial artist would.

“Die!”

Feeling his shoulder shattered by the massive hammer's force, Liu Chen, though devoid of sharp pain, still sensed the injury. In his memory, the worst wound he'd ever suffered was cutting his finger while sharpening a pencil in school. Now, seeing his bone smashed before his eyes, he could not help but feel a surge of anger, even knowing it was not fatal.

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Driven by this fury, Liu Chen no longer hesitated or wondered where to strike. He unleashed every move he could muster, pouring out the Eighteen Forms to Break the Enemy.

Front kicks, back stomps, sweeping legs from either side—the three basic kicks of the six foundational forms, deployed in rapid succession. The two strongmen who had flanked Liu Chen, believing him doomed after their hammer strike, withdrew. In that brief opening, Liu Chen battered them relentlessly, giving them no time to react, and forcibly dispersed their forms.

Only when the two strongmen were fully reduced to talismans did the Daoist atop the fortress realize what had happened, hurriedly summoning two more strongmen—not to continue the fight, but to protect the three talismans Liu Chen had just reclaimed.

On the other side, recognizing the threat Liu Chen posed, the Daoist abandoned any pretense, ordering his men to sound drums and gongs. Soon, three or four dozen retainers in martial attire crowded the fortress walls, swords and spears in hand, surrounding the Daoist.

“Like turtles, every last one—ready to retreat into their shells at the slightest sign of trouble!”

Witnessing this, Liu Chen recalled the ambush outside the city the previous day, where a wall of men blocked his path. He had thought them mere cowardly local magnates, but now he saw that Daoists were little different.

“If only I'd thought to have the He family prepare some bows and arrows—what a miscalculation.”

Looking at the retainers surrounding him, the Daoist breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, seeing their weapons, he realized he hadn't planned thoroughly enough.

To counter a powerful martial artist, the best strategy is to block with a solid formation, denying the opponent space to fight. Supplementing with bows and crossbows makes the defense impregnable—even those who have reached the blood furnace and become human immortals would be forced to retreat.

Liu Chen, seeing this, understood he had no way to continue. He stepped forward, seized Lu Qingzong, and departed without further ado.

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