Chapter Forty-Eight: The Contest of Truth and Falsehood

Chapter Forty-Eight: The Contest

The masked man declared himself to be Wu Hong with a single sentence, then tore off his mask in one swift motion.

“Ah! It really is the notorious Wu Hong!” The gathering of martial artists instantly recognized the false Wu Hong’s identity. Even Wu Hong himself was startled to see his own former face staring back at him. If this man were not standing before him now, he would scarcely believe it possible.

Chaos erupted below as all those who bore grudges against Wu Hong found their eyes bloodshot with hatred. Yet Wu Hong’s reputation was so fearsome—he had taken countless lives, and rumors abounded of his martial prowess. It was said the impostor Wu Hong had mastered the ancestral art of the King of Martial Might: the Celestial Silkworm Technique, a power supposedly reserved for the family’s true heir.

“I’ll ask you again—who are you? Why do you commit evil in my name?” Wu Hong questioned the impostor coldly, his face grim.

He dared not reveal his own true identity, fearing the other’s uncanny ability to disguise himself and commit further crimes in Wu Hong’s likeness.

“Brother, you must be joking! I am Wu Hong!” the false Wu Hong retorted, refusing to admit his real identity. Clearly, he only found the man before him vaguely familiar.

Wu Hong was deeply perplexed. If this man claimed to be Wu Hong, then who was he himself? Now, confronted with his double, the impostor still insisted on the lie.

Could it be that this man was the one who killed his father?

The mere suspicion sent a tidal wave of shock through Wu Hong’s heart, his face contorted in disbelief.

“Was it you who killed the King of Martial Might?” Wu Hong’s voice trembled as he spoke.

The impostor’s expression changed, but he sneered, “What if I did? What if I didn’t? What can you do about it?”

Seeing the other’s tacit admission, fury blazed within Wu Hong; energy surged through him. “If you killed him, then you’ll pay with your life!”

How could Wu Hong not be enraged? If the King of Martial Might truly fell at this man’s hand, then all the suffering and torment he had endured had at last found its target for vengeance.

For over a year, he had served as the scapegoat for this impostor, enduring countless hardships. Now, face to face with his true enemy, how could Wu Hong’s rage not erupt?

Wu Hong suddenly unleashed a palm strike, fueled by wrath. A massive hand of true energy swelled to a hundred meters wide, bearing down on the false Wu Hong with the force of heaven and earth.

“Hmph—do you think yourself invincible?” The impostor narrowed his eyes, his body radiating silvery energy that wrapped him like threads of silk. Countless strands of qi, as fine as silken threads, enveloped the enormous palm descending upon him.

“Heavens! That truly is the Celestial Silkworm Technique!” Some among the gathered martial artists shouted in recognition.

Wu Hong was equally astonished. How could this impostor wield his father’s Celestial Silkworm Technique—a skill even Wu Hong himself had never mastered? Was his father truly killed by this man? Then what was his real identity?

A strange calm settled over Wu Hong’s heart. If this man had truly murdered his father, he must have acted on someone else’s orders.

“Hmph—parlor tricks!” The giant hand of qi transformed into a claw, seizing the web of silken strands and yanking hard.

A grinding, creaking sound rang out, as if a giant were pulling on unbreakable cords.

At last, the silken strands of qi could not withstand the force and snapped one after another. Energy exploded in every direction. Some, unable to dodge in time, were sliced to pieces, their flesh scattering across the sky.

“Kill him! Kill the demon Wu Hong! All together now!” The impostor had incited the crowd’s wrath. Blinded by hatred, they charged at him, heedless of their own weakness.

“Hmph—courting death, you insects!” The impostor snorted coldly, unmoving. Silvery threads of qi shot from his body, weaving a net across the sky a hundred meters above. All who came near were instantly diced to pieces before they could even scream.

The impostor was now cocooned in resilient silken energy, wrapped like a great chrysalis.

With a swift motion, Wu Hong drew the dagger at his waist. This impostor was terrifyingly powerful, and after repeated use of the Great Sun Tathagata Secret, his own qi was running low. Only close combat offered hope of victory; he must seize him at all costs.

Seizing the moment as the crowd surged forward, Wu Hong leapt high. The great ceremonial platform of Monkey Valley shook violently from his leap, the force threatening to break even the tallest trees.

He sprang like a divine dragon leaping a ravine, a tiger descending the mountain.

Other experts, daunted by the impostor’s ferocity, kept their distance, launching attacks from ten meters away. Blades of sword energy crisscrossed, stirring up wild currents of qi. Everything within Monkey Valley—stones, grass, trees—was shredded to dust by the intangible force.

In midair, Wu Hong brought his blade down, but this time there was no slicing arc of energy—the reason being that, though powerful, he was still only at the Bone-Refining stage. It was only by consuming two Supreme Yin-Yang Fruits that his power had become so domineering.

As he struck, he felt overwhelming resistance, as if his blade were cleaving mud rather than air—an almost insurmountable difficulty.

“Not good!” At some point, both Wu Hong and his weapon had become entangled, thousands of bright, silken threads of qi wrapping around him.

Even with all his strength, Wu Hong felt powerless, as if mired in a swamp. He could not move.

He crashed heavily to the ground from above, pounding and kicking, but the elastic threads gave him no purchase.

Wu Hong was shocked—despite all his fortuitous encounters, he was still no match for the impostor. He had underestimated the heroes of the world.

He slashed desperately at the threads with his dagger, but they had no substance.

Outside, the screams of martial artists rose and fell in waves, victims of the impostor’s slaughter.

In the midst of chaos, Wu Hong’s eyes fell upon his spatial ring. His eyes lit up as he shouted, “Absorb!”

With a thought, the energy cocoons wrapping him surged into the ring like rivers into the sea. Wu Hong was overjoyed.

“Impressive—you do have quite a few tricks! Then let’s see how you like your own weapon!” The impostor suddenly hurled a hammer at Wu Hong. By now, the hammer had lost its original appearance—its head gleamed with golden energy, radiating a sacred aura, devoid of its former murderous edge.

Wu Hong was not alarmed but delighted, laughing heartily, “Thank you for returning my weapon!”

He caught the hammer easily with one hand.

The impostor, unaware of Wu Hong’s superhuman strength, believed the force of his throw would do serious harm.

But the hammer, now deeply attuned to Wu Hong’s spirit, could not be so easily turned against him.

The martial artists, frenzied, continued to charge at the impostor, but no one could get within ten meters of him, all hearts filled with dread.

They all recalled that Wu Hong, upon entering this small world, was but a mid-tier Marrow-Refining expert. How had he suddenly become so fierce? Even those at the peak of the Postnatal stage would be helpless against him.

Determined not to fall into the same predicament as before, Wu Hong channeled the Great Sun Tathagata’s qi into his right hand. Instead of his palm growing larger, something unexpected occurred.

The hammer in Wu Hong’s hand began to swell, growing rapidly until it became a colossal weapon over a hundred meters long, its presence awe-inspiring.

“My god! What kind of divine weapon is that? Could such a thing truly exist in this world?” The crowd was stunned. Everything in this small world had already shattered their perceptions, and now Wu Hong’s hammer, transformed into a super-sized weapon, struck terror into their hearts.

Everyone attributed the marvel to the hammer itself, never suspecting it was Wu Hong’s cultivation that was truly extraordinary.

The gigantic hammer drew in the chaotic energies around it, wrapping itself in dazzling light.

Many onlookers nearly had their eyes pop from their heads in shock.

The impostor’s face changed as he watched the titanic hammer descend upon him with the force of heaven and earth. He was terrified. Before this hammer, he felt as insignificant as an ant. No matter how mystical his qi, there were limits.

Water might extinguish fire, but if a stream of molten lava met a cup of water, the water would vanish before it could even touch the flames.

Utterly shaken yet burning with rage, the impostor roared inwardly: How am I inferior to you? Why can’t I be the true heir of the King of Martial Might, instead of you, you useless wretch!

Ordinarily, he would have been able to dodge such a blow with his agility, but perhaps pride would not let him yield. He gathered all his protective qi, raising his arms to meet the descending hammer head-on.

Instantly, his entire body shone with silvery light as countless threads of qi wove together into a massive silken net, spanning over a hundred meters, shielding him from above.