Chapter 64: Crushing the Bear Family (Part One)

The newcomers were Chen Xian and Little Mei. Chen Xian’s brows furrowed as he saw the cold bodies of the Ma family members lying before the Ma Tower, Ma Tian and Ma He kneeling in blood, and the arrogant faces of Xiong He, Xiong Ding, and their cohorts.

His eyes, bright as the stars, burst forth with a lethal intent.

The Ma family belonged to him, Chen Xian. The Xiong family dared to trample upon them, seeking to uproot and devour the Ma family—such an act was akin to defiling Chen Xian's dignity, a provocation intolerable beyond measure.

He was moved to kill.

“Today, the Xiong family dares to oppress us. If I do not respond with thunderous might, tomorrow the Zhao family, the He family, and every martial clan will come to bully us!”

“I must annihilate the Xiong family, to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked, and let them learn the fate that awaits those who cross Chen Xian!”

Resolute, he made his decision: to destroy the Xiong family and seize control of the martial world of M City in one fell swoop.

He advanced step by step, his gait measured as if surveying the earth, heading toward the entrance of the Ma Tower.

Ma Tian, kneeling in despair, raised his head and caught sight of a young man with a crew cut, cradling a jet-black cat. His eyes reddened, tears streaming down his face as he trembled and shouted, “It’s… it’s Grandmaster Chen! He’s here!”

The other core members of the Ma family, their heads bowed in defeat, heard his cry and lifted their gazes toward the plaza. Seeing that imposing figure, they too wept in excitement, shouting:

“Grandmaster Chen! Grandmaster Chen! Grandmaster Chen!”

The fighting spirit that had been lost was rekindled.

“Xiong He, Mr. Zhao, you’re finished!”

“Xiong family, await your destruction at Grandmaster Chen’s hands!”

The Ma family’s core members, tears streaming, cried out in exhilaration.

Instantly, the Xiong family and Mr. Zhao focused their attention on the crew-cut youth. The Xiong family martial artists, who were about to execute Ma Tian, Ma He, and the core Ma members, halted, curiosity piqued as they looked at the newcomer.

At that moment, aside from the lethal aura surrounding him, Chen Xian seemed no different from an ordinary man. Xiong He and Mr. Zhao felt no fear from him.

“Ha! Ma Tian, Ma He, this is your so-called ‘Grandmaster Chen’?” Xiong He laughed derisively. “How ridiculous—the dignified Ma family has found a student to prop up their cause!”

“The Ma family must be out of their minds!” Xiong Ding, his face sinister, sneered coldly.

The rest of the Xiong family joined in, mocking Chen Xian just as their patriarch and eldest son did.

Mr. Zhao’s lips curled upward, his sarcasm evident.

Xiong Ding’s eyes shifted, his face darkening with murderous intent as he smiled and said, “Father, leave this so-called Grandmaster Chen to me! When I kill him, I’ll be able to boast that I’ve slain the Ma family’s grandmaster!”

“Ha ha, good. Go and kill him!” Xiong He laughed heartily.

With his father’s approval, Xiong Ding’s cruel face brimmed with arrogance. He sprang forward like an arrow toward Chen Xian, swift as a tiger, fierce as the wind.

Chen Xian paid Xiong Ding no mind, continuing to advance step by step toward Mr. Zhao, Xiong He, and the others.

Within seconds, Xiong Ding was only a few meters from Chen Xian. He pushed off the ground, using its rebound to launch himself high, his iron fist clenched, aiming straight for Chen Xian’s head.

A fierce wind from his punch whipped through the air. Chen Xian spoke coldly: “Those who insult me, die.”

His words became reality. He raised his hand, sending a feather-light punch toward Xiong Ding’s chest.

Xiong Ding sneered: such a weak strike, what could it possibly do?

His iron fist slammed hard into Chen Xian’s head.

By his reckoning, Chen Xian’s skull should have been crushed, but the result was quite different—Chen Xian was unharmed, and Xiong Ding felt as if his punch had struck cotton.

Ah!

Suddenly, Xiong Ding felt an agonizing pain in his chest, as if struck by a mountain, his whole body on the verge of exploding.

Unable to contain his anguish, he let out a wretched scream, his body flung backward like a kite with a snapped string.

In his final moments, Xiong Ding looked down to see his chest caved in, crimson blood gushing forth.

With a heavy thud, he crashed to the ground, eyes wide, the spark of life extinguished, his expression forever frozen in disbelief and unwillingness.

Chen Xian, with a single punch, had killed a master of hidden force.

Everyone present was stunned: so powerful, unbelievably powerful!

The scene fell utterly silent, deathly still.

The mockery vanished from the faces of the Xiong family; their eyes widened, fixed on Chen Xian, filled with shock and disbelief.

Xiong He came back to himself, his face contorted in grief. With a heavy thud, he knelt and pleaded to the man in the black tunic, “Mr. Zhao, please kill Chen Xian and avenge my son!”

His voice was thick with hate and venom.

Xiong He, seeing how easily Chen Xian killed his son, knew he stood no chance against him.

Whoosh!

Mr. Zhao ignored Xiong He, his figure flickering forward toward Chen Xian, leaving a trail of afterimages, faster than lightning.

In a flash, he crossed dozens of meters.

“Hong!” As he charged, he uttered a mysterious syllable.

Waves of sound pulsed from Mr. Zhao’s mouth, targeting Chen Xian.

Then, Mr. Zhao’s hands formed claws, moving at blinding speed, raining blows upon Chen Xian.

Chen Xian did not move, standing rooted to the spot, his gaze fixed ahead, as if stunned by the spiritual power of the man in the black tunic, transformed into a lifeless statue.

A minute passed, and Mr. Zhao grew increasingly alarmed as he struck.

He found his attacks vanished, like a clay ox into the sea, having no effect whatsoever on Chen Xian.

Mr. Zhao gritted his teeth: refusing to believe the evidence.

His eyes suddenly gleamed with a ghostly light, as if he’d become a demon, his powerful spiritual force surging toward Chen Xian, seeking to shatter his mind and reduce him to a fool.

After several minutes, Mr. Zhao ceased his assault, his face pale as parchment. He had exhausted every method, yet still could not destroy Chen Xian.

“Those who kill my Ma clan, die.”

Chen Xian, previously inert, suddenly erupted with dazzling brilliance from his eyes, as if the light could pierce flesh, his voice icy.

Though not loud, his words thundered in Mr. Zhao’s ears, shaking his soul.

With that, Chen Xian moved, his iron fist smashing hard toward Mr. Zhao’s chest, its speed seemingly slow but in truth at the extreme.

Bang!

The iron fist struck Mr. Zhao’s left chest without suspense, sending him flying like a kite with a broken string, landing only after soaring over a hundred meters.

Blood gushed from Mr. Zhao’s mouth as he stared at Chen Xian in the distance, muttering, “You… you truly are… a grandmaster!”

With those words, his vision darkened and he died.

This scene stunned everyone present; the silence was so deep it seemed all had forgotten to breathe.

This was Mr. Zhao, adept in both magic and martial arts, yet he was no match for Chen Xian’s punch!

Crack!

Suddenly, the sound of something shattering broke the stillness.