Chapter 52: The strength of a single ox is the limit of the postnatal physical body, not martial arts

In the Great Qin, martial arts are supreme.

You can say someone is unattractive, or criticize their temperament and personality.

But you cannot, to their face, say that their martial cultivation or their fist techniques are poorly trained.

That is the skill upon which one builds their life and livelihood.

"The Captain is straightforward!"

Li Changwei let out a long shout, his expression flashing with a hint of wild intensity.

He slowly cupped his fists, his gaze fixed intently on Zhang Yuan: "Li Changwei requests the Captain's guidance!"

Why did he call Zhang Yuan straightforward?

Because this was the Black Cavalry camp, a place of military discipline. Everyone present held a single identity: a martial soldier of Great Qin.

As martial soldiers, there was no room for pretension; strength spoke for itself.

Previously, when he told Zhang Yuan to mind his own business, it was because he felt Zhang Yuan was merely a Black Armor Captain from the Black Ice Platform of Luyang Prefecture—someone from a remote backwater with no real ability.

Coupled with the fact that they had been played by Wang Qinian, they were already feeling disgruntled.

Zhang Yuan had not used his official rank to suppress them, nor had he attempted to argue. He had simply offered a direct evaluation: that his fist technique was lacking.

What kind of person has the right to criticize another's fist techniques and martial skills?

Naturally, a powerhouse.

As long as you are strong enough, whatever you say is right.

Zhang Yuan's attitude was blunt.

*I have the strength, so you must listen to me.*

Because Zhang Yuan was so direct, Li Changwei and the others, who had been speaking in riddles, suddenly felt somewhat awkward.

Thus, Li Changwei called him straightforward and issued a direct challenge.

What did "guidance" mean?

It meant: *Beat me into submission, and then I will listen to you.*

"Ahem, Black Tiger, we must win people over with reason..." Wang Qinian spoke up hypocritically.

A Xiantian realm expert fighting a Houtian realm expert—wasn't that a bit unreasonable?

The fact that Zhang Yuan possessed Xiantian cultivation was something Wang Qinian had reported through a private channel; the Black Ice Platform of the Prefectural Government had specifically instructed that this matter be kept secret.

Wang Qinian knew that it was not easy for the Black Ice Platform to produce a powerhouse, and they had to keep such a person hidden so they wouldn't be poached.

Compared to the frontier armies seeking merit, or the prestigious Imperial Guards, the Black Ice Platform—hidden in the shadows—found it difficult to retain masters.

"Director Wang, the military values winning people over with fists."

Zhang Yuan lightly rotated his wrists, moved his shoulders and neck slightly, and strode toward the open space ahead.

Li Changwei followed quickly, and Chang Ning, along with other scattered soldiers, rushed over as well.

Zhang Yuan came to a halt, his arms relaxed and hanging low, his feet spread apart. He looked at Li Changwei, who had stopped ten feet away.

Li Changwei clenched his fists and gave a low shout: "Forgive my insolence!"

As the sound rose, he moved. Stepping forward, he threw a punch straight at Zhang Yuan's chest.

Iron Armor Fist, Advancing Thrust Punch.

This punch integrated the waist and the stance; by borrowing the momentum of a single step, the entire force of his body could be channeled through the tip of the fist.

Li Changwei was in the late stage of the Houtian realm, half a step away from the Xiantian realm. His strength reached 1,800 jin. As he threw the punch, his speed and power were fully unleashed, the air whistling around his fist with a roar like thunder.

The observing soldiers all clenched their fists, unable to help but cheer.

In the military, a leader must possess formidable combat strength to command respect and provide their subordinates with a sense of security and belonging, making them more willing to fight desperately in battle.

If the commander himself lacked strength, who would be willing to follow him into a suicidal charge?

Standing in the rear, Chang Ning's eyes flashed with brilliance.

Li Changwei's fist technique and cultivation were indeed slightly stronger than his own.

This single punch could demonstrate the peak level of the late Houtian stage.

How would Black Tiger deal with such a punch?

Zhang Yuan stood in place, having not thought about how to defend at all.

His Iron Armor Fist had not only reached Great Perfection, but he had also integrated it into the "Mountain and River Movement."

Facing the Iron Armor Fist, why would he need to defend?

As Li Changwei's punch reached him, Zhang Yuan stepped forward with his left foot, slightly arched his right, raised his arm, and clenched his fist. His left fist pressed against his waist, while his right fist retracted slightly before striking out.

Iron Armor Fist, Advancing Thrust Punch.

*Boom—*

Zhang Yuan's fist collided with Li Changwei's. Zhang Yuan's body remained motionless, while Li Changwei's footing faltered, causing him to stumble half a step.

The exact same technique, yet Li Changwei was utterly defeated!

"How can this be..." The Black Cavalry soldiers watching from the side showed expressions of shock.

"Could that Captain's cultivation be even higher than Lieutenant Li's?" someone whispered.

"Impossible. Lieutenant Li is at the peak of the late Houtian realm. The power of that punch had already reached the Houtian limit. To suppress him through cultivation, one would have to be in the Xiantian realm, but Captain Black Tiger's punch didn't have the support of True Essence..."

The Houtian middle-stage soldier who spoke clenched his fists, looking completely incredulous.

The Iron Armor Fist was a basic military technique practiced by ninety-nine percent of the military.

It was precisely because they had practiced the Iron Armor Fist that Zhang Yuan's easy defeat of Li Changwei left them so confused.

"Timing," Chang Ning's voice rang out.

"The Captain caught the optimal moment to strike."

His eyes were bright, and his face flushed slightly: "Lieutenant Li's advancing punch should have reached its peak power at a distance of seven feet, where his cultivation and technique align, producing a force comparable to a bull. But once the punch passes seven feet, the power begins to wane..."

Li Changwei's eyes flashed as he stared at Zhang Yuan, remaining silent.

His punch had been a calculated move; striking from ten feet away provided the most momentum and, beyond mere power, a psychological intimidation.

Chang Ning was right. His punch was passing the eight-foot mark, where the power was declining, when Zhang Yuan intercepted it.

Not only was Zhang Yuan undeterred by the momentum of the punch, but he used the exact same amount of force to block it, causing Li Changwei to lose his balance.

The mastery of this timing was truly exquisite!

The Black Tiger Captain before him was not only at the peak of the Houtian realm, but his refinement of fist techniques was even superior to his own!

No wonder he dared to say he would win people over with fists!

"Be careful!" Li Changwei shouted. He moved his left foot forward and suddenly lunged with his right, drawing power from his feet, driving it through his waist, and releasing it from his right shoulder.

Iron Armor Fist, Iron Mountain Shoulder!

As his shoulder lunged forward, the blood and qi within Li Changwei's body surged, and a shadow resembling a wild bull seemed to emerge as he dove forward.

The strength of a bull!

A strength of one bull was something typically reserved for the Xiantian realm. Although Li Changwei, at the peak of Houtian, lacked Xiantian True Essence, the enhancement from his combat technique allowed his strike to exceed his natural limit, reaching 2,000 jin.

This was why he was proud and dared to challenge Zhang Yuan.

Though he was in the Houtian realm, he could manifest the power of a Xiantian expert!

This strike was short and direct, with a distance of barely three feet. Zhang Yuan had no choice but to retreat.

The observing soldiers held their breath; even Chang Ning's arms were taut.

He worried that Zhang Yuan would be unable to withstand the blow and, out of shame and anger from being injured, would use his official authority to punish Li Changwei.

The strength of a bull was formidable.

Zhang Yuan's expression did not change in the slightest. His feet remained planted, his right shoulder dropped slightly to meet the charging Li Changwei.

Iron Armor Fist, Iron Mountain Shoulder.

*Thud.*

A dull sound echoed. Zhang Yuan's feet did not budge an inch, while Li Changwei's footing failed, causing him to stumble back several steps before collapsing onto the ground, looking utterly bewildered.

Around them, the mountain wind howled, but not a single person spoke.

Just like the previous punch, it was the same Iron Mountain Shoulder. Li Changwei had charged with momentum, yet he was defeated by Zhang Yuan using the exact same technique.

Most crucially, the power Zhang Yuan used was no different from Li Changwei's.

How was this possible?

Earlier, Zhang Yuan had said Li Changwei's fist technique lacked refinement.

Looking at it now, it wasn't that Li Changwei's technique was lacking; it was that Zhang Yuan's technique was perfected to the extreme!

"Impossible, this is impossible..."

Slowly rising to his feet, Li Changwei looked at Zhang Yuan, his facial muscles twitching, his eyes filled with a hint of madness.

"With the same technique, how can your strength surpass mine?"

"The strength of a bull is the physical limit of the Houtian realm..."

This question was not only asked by Li Changwei; Chang Ning and the other Black Cavalry soldiers wanted to ask it as well.

Zhang Yuan had defeated Li Changwei twice using the same techniques and the same level of strength.

The first punch could be attributed to timing, but in this second move, Li Changwei's Iron Mountain Shoulder had a longer distance to build momentum and more power.

Yet, he still lost.

"The strength of a bull is the physical limit of the Houtian realm, but it is not the limit of the martial Dao." Zhang Yuan took a slow step forward, and the dormant blood and qi in his body roared into motion.

"Your punch... lacks refinement!"

As the words fell, Zhang Yuan threw a punch.

Iron Armor Fist, Advancing Thrust Punch!

What kind of punch was this!

With a single step, the mud and grass beneath his feet exploded. His figure moved as fast as a galloping horse, like a warhorse charging through an enemy formation.

The power of that single step exceeded 1,000 jin!

In a single stride to five feet away, the striking punch descended toward Li Changwei's chest with a whistle.

Borrowing the momentum of the charge, the force turned through his waist and channeled through the tip of his fist. The power of the strike was that of a bull!

This punch was more fluid in its power circulation than Li Changwei's previous strike, and most importantly, its momentum was more than ten times stronger than Li Changwei's.

In the eyes of all the Black Cavalry soldiers, this punch was like a warhorse charging through a formation—unstoppable!