Chapter 32: Even Zilong Had to Fall Ill

I have seen those born with divine strength; men like Guan Yu, who can effortlessly wield an eighty-pound Green Dragon Crescent Blade without the aid of internal energy, could be considered naturally gifted.

Men like Wu Anguo, who rely on internal energy to swing a multi-hundred-pound hammer, also possess such innate power. But there must be a limit to even divine strength!

Lu Bu himself is naturally powerful; otherwise, he could never handle his halberd, forged from meteorite iron. Yet, the strength Zhang Fei is displaying now leaves him stunned. Is this truly the power of a man?

Lu Bu finds his curiosity piqued. He intends to capture this fellow, feed him well, and study him thoroughly to discover what he was raised on to possess such overwhelming force.

Zhang Fei’s strength continues to climb. Like Lu Bu’s internal energy, once the floodgates were opened, there was no stopping it. His power grows ever greater, to the point where the muscles on his exposed skin can be seen trembling and swelling. Zhang Fei, already built like a mountain of muscle, now finds his arm muscles straining to burst through his armor.

Zhao Yun watches Zhang Fei with curiosity. He previously thought this man was merely quite strong, but based on what he sees now, this is far beyond ordinary. The surging muscles on Zhang Fei’s upper arm are approaching the thickness of his own thigh.

"Zichuan, you need not worry. If General Zhang maintains this level of strength, even Lu Bu will find it difficult to subdue him in the short term. This kind of power is enough to ignore most techniques. If Lu Bu dared to use his amateurish light-sword style now, his halberd would surely be sent flying," Zhao Yun says with a smile, explaining the situation to the nervous Chen Xi.

"That is unlikely. I think I understand what is happening with the Third Brother. Brother Yun, be prepared," Chen Xi replies with a bitter smile. He recalls Zhang Fei mentioning that both he and the Second Master possessed trump-card techniques. This abnormal increase in strength is almost certainly Zhang Fei’s ultimate move.

Zhang Fei has become numb to everything else. He has discarded all pretenses of technique, realizing that against Lu Bu, any technique he employs is worthless. There is only one thing he can compare to Lu Bu: raw strength. His strength is greater than Lu Bu’s.

Knowing this gives him confidence. His father once told him that in a fight, if your strength is inferior, use technique; if your technique is inferior, use speed. As long as you excel in one of these three, you can at least escape if you cannot win. Of course, if you are inferior in all three, you should stay far away. If you must fight, do not think of survival; only by embracing a resolve to die can you find a glimmer of hope.

Chen Xi’s guess is correct. Zhang Fei is indeed using his trump card. Well, it is a technique he developed after Guan Yu told him about his own secret move; Zhang Fei felt that if his Second Brother had one, he needed one too. Thus, he devised this method—a way to use his internal energy to stimulate his muscles to explode with greater force. Although, he had previously tested it on a pig.

While Zhang Fei hadn’t used it on a person, the pig he used for his research had almost matched his own strength during that period. Satisfied that his technique was a success, Zhang Fei killed the pig and ate it.

Later, when boasting to Guan Yu, he claimed to have developed a secret move, though Guan Yu had no idea what it actually entailed.

Zhang Fei has no idea how ruthless this technique is. It completely exploits his muscular potential, restricts neural transmission, and disables the body’s innate protective systems. This is why his strength is increasing without limit. Once the body's protective systems are fully suppressed, even an ordinary man without internal energy could strike with tons of force.

"Boom!" Lu Bu is forced back. Lu Bu, wielding his heavy sword and mounted on Red Hare, has been pushed back. Though it is only a small step, Zhang Fei sees a glimmer of victory. He can feel his strength constantly rising; if this continues, crushing Lu Bu to death is certainly not out of the question.

Lu Bu’s expression darkens. He has been pushed back. He is the one who forces others back; no one has ever forced him back. Encountering this for the first time, Lu Bu is momentarily stunned.

"You have angered me!" Lu Bu snaps out of it, his eyes burning with a blood-red hue. With a wild roar, his aura surges, and his halberd descends with the crushing weight of heaven and earth.

"Dong!" A massive sound erupts, followed by a violent shockwave that sends dust swirling into the air.

As the dust settles, Lu Bu sits atop Red Hare, having created distance. He glances at Guan Yu, who is shielding Zhang Fei, and at Zhang Fei himself, who is covered in blood and swaying in his saddle. Lu Bu sneers, "I thought you were truly growing in strength without limit, but it ends in such a pathetic display. Your body cannot withstand such immense power. Truly laughable."

The entire field is shocked. Guan and Zhang, who were evenly matched with Lu Bu, have been left with one of them severely wounded after Lu Bu’s outburst. Could it be that Lu Bu had been playing with them like a cat with a mouse all along?

"Let me finish you both!" Lu Bu laughs wildly, swinging his halberd toward Guan Yu. He sees that Zhang Fei is incapacitated, and now he only needs to reap the harvest. He has witnessed the strength of Guan Yu and Zhang Fei—they are strong, but only strong.

"Zhao Zilong of Changshan, I request your instruction!" Zhao Yun steps forward, his expression resigned. This is his first time participating in a gang-up.

Lu Bu licks his lips, abandoning Guan Yu and Zhang Fei to charge directly at Zhao Yun. Gang-ups and wheel-battles mean nothing to Lu Bu. From Bing Province to Luoyang, and from Luoyang to the current war against the world’s warlords, who dares to challenge him one-on-one? He has traversed the world without a rival; his principle has always been to hunt the masters.

Zhao Yun is a master; Lu Bu knows this clearly. But he knows even better that any master who faces him is nothing. He has the confidence to defeat every expert in the world, whether they are the self-proclaimed famous generals of Hebei or the Guan-Zhang duo he has essentially defeated. They are experts, but they are facing Lu Bu.

Zhao Yun’s spear is fast. Even with Lu Bu’s keen eyes, he can only see streaks of silver light. He never imagined a man’s spear could move so quickly. The thousands of spear-flowers dancing in the air fill him with a sense of shock—it is as breathtaking as the strength he witnessed from Zhang Fei earlier.

The silver-blue halo and the gold-red halo clash repeatedly. Neither side can overwhelm the other, and they remain locked in a deadly stalemate.

Lu Bu no longer dares to play with his half-baked sword techniques. That young man almost left a hole in him when he tried to use them. Lu Bu wants to curse; that old man told him this technique required a genius to master and ten years of practice to perfect, and that the only people in the world who could use it flawlessly were elderly men in their seventies or eighties!

Lu Bu abandons those unrefined techniques and begins to fight with steady, solid strikes. He refuses to believe this "pretty boy" can hold out forever!