Blood-Stained Love Chapter 139

The old man spat again, this time his spittle was a wide spray of water, yet every droplet flew toward Bok Liong’s vital points with enough force to kill an opponent. Bok Liong spun his sword, forming a scroll of sword light—a round umbrella in front of his body that deflected all the splashing spittle. However, It-gan Kai-ong attacked again with thick spittle that shot out like steel bullets. Bok Liong parried with his sword and was shocked to feel his hand tremble violently and nearly go numb every time his weapon blocked a glob of spittle. The sheer power of the sin-kang contained within those spitting attacks was incredible.

"Heh-heh-heh-hah-hah-hah, dance. Cuh-cuh-cuh"

The old man continued to attack while spitting.

Bok Liong was extremely busy, exerting the sin-kang in his body and moving his sword rapidly. He no longer dared to parry the spittle head-on, because if he continued to clash forces, he would be in danger. Now he parried from the side, merely diverting the spittle away. *Let him spit until he runs dry, I refuse to accept this humiliation,* Bok Liong thought, parrying or dodging with great agility. Nevertheless, being attacked solely by this spittle was enough to keep Bok Liong busy saving himself and unable to counter-attack. However, Bok Liong's agility, which always allowed him to evade the spittle attacks, infuriated It-gan Kai-ong immensely. He felt frustrated because usually, his spitting attack was enough to kill a young opponent.

"Eh, you're not bad. Worthy enough to meet my staff."

Suddenly, his body lunged forward, and the staff in his hand, to Bok Liong's eyes, transformed into dozens of shafts simultaneously thrusting toward him. The young man was startled and tried to spin his sword to block all the staff shadows while retreating with agile leaps. But he was finally forced to stop because behind him lay a steep, wide-open ravine, ready to swallow him.

"Heh-heh-heh, where are you going to run now?"

It-gan Kai-ong mocked, chuckling, and his battered staff pressed the attack even more ferociously.

No matter how fierce and powerful It-gan Kai-ong's staff technique was, driven by his formidable energy, Bok Liong was no ordinary youth. He was the beloved student of Gan-lopek, who had passed down his skills to this disciple, and recently, Bok Liong had received even more intense training. Thus, facing the deadly pressure in front and the threat of death behind, Bok Liong acted desperately, and his sword moved quickly, emitting a whistling sound. He exerted all his energy and unleashed his best moves, no longer just defending himself, but now counter-attacking recklessly to gamble his life. A life-and-death struggle ensued on the edge of the ravine.

It-gan Kai-ong was no longer chuckling now. After all, he could not carelessly face the desperate counter-attack of this young man if he did not want to be humiliated. The old man wielded his staff even more powerfully, pressing hard so that every time the two weapons met, Bok Liong felt as if his arm would break. Yet, he fought on tenaciously. When he found an opening, he flashed forward like lightning, thrusting his sword toward It-gan Kai-ong's abdomen. He no longer cared that in this desperate attack, he left himself "open"

And unprotected. The Goat-kong-kiam (Moonbeam Sword) in his hand turned into a faint yellowish light containing cold energy because it was thrust with the exertion of Im energy. However, the sword suddenly stopped moving because it had stuck to the battered staff in It-gan Kai-ong's hand.

Bok Liong was shocked and tried to pull his sword back, but it was too late. The Im-kang contained in his sword turned out to be his undoing, because this energy allowed his powerful opponent to stick and "suck"

So that he felt his body become weak. In his desperation, Bok Liong refused to surrender easily. He gathered his remaining strength, and suddenly his left hand delivered a punch simultaneously with a change in his foot position, stepping forward. This punch aimed at the opponent's forehead, which, if it connected accurately, would endanger his life. However, because Bok Liong was already in a losing position and dominated, It-gan Kai-ong easily faced this punch. His left hand parried, and simultaneously his staff pushed, sending Bok Liong tumbling backward, falling supine.

"Heh-heh-heh, die, student of the man surnamed Gan."

The staff was raised and ready to deliver the fatal blow.

Seeing this, Bok Liong was unwilling to die at the hands of that devilish old man. His body rolled backward, and he tumbled quickly, escaping the staff's strike, but in the next instant, his body plunged into the wide-open ravine. At that moment, a shadow flashed by, and this shadow was none other than a short old man, Empek Gan, Lie Bok Liong's master.

"He, one-eyed devil beggar!"

What did you do to my student? Where is he now?"

"Heh-heh-heh, old man surnamed Gan, do you intend to follow your student to the bottom of the ravine?"

It-gan Kai-ong pointed toward the ravine with his staff. Empek Gan's face changed. Usually, he was jovial and cheerful, but upon hearing that his beloved student had fallen into the ravine, his anger flared.

"Stinking tramp with a devil's heart. You have no shame, only daring to fight the young. If you are a man, I am your opponent, old against old."

"Bah, shut your foul mouth. You yourself insulted my student in Nan-cao. Now I beat your student, isn't that fair?"

"No need for much talk, It-gan Kai-ong, you have killed my student, you must kill me too, or you will pay with your life."

"Come on, who fears you?"

The two old men adopted their stances. Knowing that the opponent they faced was extremely formidable, neither of them played around anymore. It-gan Kai-ong held his battered staff horizontally above his head, his right knee bent and raised, his left foot standing on its toes,

His left hand was thrust forward, and his single eye stared straight ahead intensely. As for Gan-lopek, he also drew his pair of weapons, called the Hek-pek-mou-pit (Black-White Hair Pens), the black one in his right hand and the white-haired one in his left. He stood with both knees slightly bent downward, his rear protruding and swaying, his arms crossed. For five minutes they merely stood facing each other like this, not launching an attack. Like two fighting cocks sizing each other up before clashing. Then the Beggar King's strange chuckle was heard, and his body lunged forward, preceded by his battered staff. The staff contained tremendous energy, and the wind of its strike shook the leaves of the surrounding trees.

"Wesssss"

The battered staff flew past near Gan-lopek's head, and the formidable painter executed his weapons in two deadly strikes (totokan maut) as the opponent's attack passed. However, with precise body movement, the Beggar King managed to evade. Due to their movements, they now switched places and again stood motionless, staring at each other with every nerve in their bodies taut. For someone whose martial arts skill was not yet high, they might prefer to attack first in a fight, because they would certainly assume that in combat, whoever is faster or attacks first gains the advantage.

However, for formidable individuals like Gan-lopek and It-gan Kai-ong, the opposite was true. The one who attacks first is actually in a weaker position, because every attack means weakening one's own defense, and sometimes if the opponent sees the weak spot, an "opening" (lubang) is revealed,

And this is dangerous. This is why both of them were now sizing each other up and seemed reluctant to start attacking first. However, since It-gan Kai-ong had already attacked as the opening of the match, Gan-lopek, who did not want to be considered afraid, now retaliated with his own attack. He shouted loudly and his body moved forward, the pair of mou-pit in his hands transforming into two small but bright black and white scrolls of light that flashed forward, threatening It-gan Kai-ong's upper and lower body.

Although the pair of hair pens struck repeatedly toward seventeen vital points (jalan darah), It-gan Kai-ong managed to evade with the movement of his staff, which became a circular coil of light, like a snake protecting his entire body. Then suddenly his staff retaliated with a downward sweep, threatening Gan-lopek's legs. The old man's body, with his rear still wiggling (megal-megol) like a swimming goldfish, suddenly sprang upward so that the staff's sweep only passed beneath his feet. From above, Gan-lopek glided down, the black hair pen preceding him to strike the neck; when the opponent parried, the white hair pen thrust, and its target was now the navel (pusar)."

The fighting prowess of this painter old man was incredible, forcing It-gan Kai-ong to use all his skill to evade. Empek Gan's movements were swift and strange, especially with the peculiar wiggling motion of his rear, which confused his opponent.