Chapter 512 - 231: The 4 Saints of the East Sea - Guixu Divine Technique

Chapter 512: Chapter 231: The 4 Saints of the East Sea - Guixu Divine Technique

The ultimate technique Ji Changzui cultivated was called the[Drunken Dream Scripture].

Before cultivating this Martial Art, he was not fond of drinking.

However, this Martial Art required one to practice with the aid of alcohol. The more one drank, the deeper their cultivation became. But as fate would have it, Ji Changzui got drunk the moment alcohol touched his lips, so his path of cultivation had been anything but easy.

While this state was detrimental to cultivating the[Drunken Dream Scripture], it was extremely advantageous for unleashing it.

This was because when unleashing the Martial Art, one needed to be in a state between dreaming and waking.

For someone with a high tolerance for alcohol, achieving this state was rather difficult.

Imagine being in a hurry to fight someone, yet you just can’t get drunk. You’d be able to use less than half of your Martial Arts—how frustrating would that be?

Ji Changzui had cultivated the[Drunken Dream Scripture]for many years and had been tempered through long training, but his progress was minimal.

As a result, he would pass out after just a couple of sips.

The problem was, a person’s reactions are much slower after drinking. While the[Drunken Dream Scripture]could enhance his speed and reflexes, he had not yet activated the technique.

By the time Fang Shuwen had killed half of Nameless Island’s six great masters, Ji Changzui finally snapped out of it and tried to stop Fang Shuwen from kicking Gu Jinghong to death.

Since he began cultivating the[Drunken Dream Scripture], he had rarely met his match.

He grabbed Fang Shuwen’s ankle with one hand while simultaneously pulling a short dagger from behind his waist with the other, preparing to strike.

But the moment his blade moved, the ankle in his grasp felt like a dragon soaring from the abyss, its power so immense he couldn’t control it at all.

He hastily retracted the dagger, trying to use all his strength to control Fang Shuwen’s ankle.

At the same time, Su Changyu also made his move.

He was known as the Thousand-Faced Ghost Doctor. Whatever his medical skills, his Poison Technique was undeniable.

But while Fang Shuwen had been entangled with Tie Dingshan and Gu Jinghong, Su Changyu couldn’t find an opening. Now, with Gu Jinghong sprawled on the ground and Ji Changzui half-squatting to block Fang Shuwen, his chance had come.

Fang Shuwen was left wide open.

It played right into his hands. He immediately flung a cloud of his meticulously concocted poison directly at Fang Shuwen.

Fang Shuwen’s expression remained unchanged. He reached out his right hand, and streams of Inner Strength converged into a vortex. With a sudden grasp, he collected all the poison powder hanging in the air into his palm.

"What!?"

Su Changyu had never seen anything like it.

Fang Shuwen’s method held no special trick. It relied entirely on his tyrannical Inner Strength, which he used to create a vortex of air and then, with the help of the[North Nether Divine Technique], gather the poison in one spot.

To put it simply, there was no technique involved—it was all raw power.

For a moment, Su Changyu was utterly dumbfounded.

Fang Shuwen saw his mouth hanging open—a rare opportunity. With a flick of his wrist—SWISH—the pellet he had formed from the poison powder shot straight into Su Changyu’s mouth.

Su Changyu tried to close his mouth, but it was too late.

He swallowed instinctively... and his face immediately turned ashen.

He frantically grabbed his own throat, trying to spit the poison pellet out.

But how could he so easily spit out a condensed pellet that he had already swallowed?

By the time he had bent over, a dark aura was already spreading across his face. He instinctively reached for an antidote, only to remember with dawning horror... ’This is a poison I just recently concocted. I haven’t even named it yet, so how could I have an antidote?’

Just as Su Changyu was sinking into despair, he heard a sickening CRUNCH.

In the end, Ji Changzui had failed to stop Fang Shuwen’s kick. Gu Jinghong, unable to escape, had his head brutally crushed.

As the headless corpse rolled away, even Ji Changzui, lost in his dreamlike state, was stunned for an instant.

Fang Shuwen intended to take advantage of his opponent’s distraction to finish him off.

However, a sweep of his gaze revealed that Sikong Cheng was on the move.

With four and a half of his six great masters dead, Sikong Cheng finally made his move—but not toward Fang Shuwen.

He was a large, heavyset man, yet when he moved, he was as fast as lightning. With one hand clasped behind his back, he glided across the hall, his posture as carefree as a leisurely stroll.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed half the hall, heading straight for Luo Shuqing.

He deliberately gave Fang Shuwen a wide berth, passing him at a distance of well over twenty feet.

And that was only because the space was limited; it was just an inner hall, after all.

Otherwise, he would have kept a hundred feet between them. He wanted nothing to do with Fang Shuwen.

From the moment Fang Shuwen attacked to the present, a great deal had happened, but very little time had actually passed.

The span of a few breaths might sound too short, but in reality, it had only been a few dozen breaths.

His six great masters had fallen one after another as if they were made of paper.

Faced with such Martial Arts, Sikong Cheng had no desire to clash head-on with Fang Shuwen.

Besides, his true target tonight was not Fang Shuwen, but Luo Shuqing.

Capturing Luo Shuqing might not only allow him to obtain the ’Profound Celestial Iron Mirror’, but it would also give him leverage over Fang Shuwen.

Fang Shuwen was currently occupied with Ji Changzui. Although Sikong Cheng suspected Ji Changzui wouldn’t hold him for long, he was confident that in the span of one or two breaths, he could capture Luo Shuqing.

As the Island Master of Nameless Island, Sikong Cheng possessed such confidence.

But just as his confidence peaked, he suddenly felt as if his entire body had been plunged into a mire.

An immense pulling force enveloped him.

It caused his movements to stutter and halt.

"This is..."

Sikong Cheng’s heart lurched as he whipped his head around to look at Fang Shuwen.

He saw Ji Changzui, fighting as if possessed, swinging his short dagger so fast it became a blur of afterimages.

His blade followed an unorthodox path, his Techniques strange and unpredictable.

They often struck from extremely awkward angles—fast, vicious, and nearly impossible to parry.