The Great Oni
Volume (1) Benoni Chapter (39)
"Shiiiing"
The tiger-man moved at incredible speed, far beyond what ordinary eyes could track.
Yet Li Fan was even faster, clashing fiercely with the tiger-man blow for blow.
As they fought, the tiger-man avoided damaging the massive building, pulling Li Fan toward open ground.
Li Fan, intrigued by the building's contents, allowed himself to be drawn away.
The tiger-man slashed at him with his enormous claws.
Li Fan tilted slightly, dodging with minimal effort, then launched a lightning-fast kick.
"Phwoom."
The tiger-man's neck jerked back, forcing him two steps backward.
Li Fan pressed forward, striking again.
"Phwooom."
The tiger-man was truly shaken now.
Despite using Black-Rose medicine to increase his strength threefold over a normal Martial Emperor, he was barely holding his ground.
Again and again, he was knocked back without even approaching that young man.
"Grrraaaah!" The tiger-man roared, attacking with sound waves.
Suddenly, Li Fan's spirit was struck—he froze momentarily.
The tiger-man grinned in triumph, closing in to claw his throat.
Yet the instant he saw Li Fan's slight smirk, his instincts screamed danger.
In a flash, Li Fan dashed forward and drove his fist deep into the tiger-man's ribs.
"Boom!"
The strike carried **50% of Li Fan's full power**—the tiger-man coughed blood violently, his internal organs shattered under the impact.
It was so devastating that his martial-spirit form collapsed instantly, reverting him to his original stout, bald scientist shape.
"If I really wanted to kill you, I could have done it easily. So just surrender," Li Fan said with a wide grin.
"Cough… Cough… Cough…" The old scientist coughed violently, spewing blood along with fragments of his internal organs.
"What do you want?" he asked, wiping the blood off his chin with his sleeve, his gaze locked onto Li Fan.
"You've been absorbing the essence of the Black Storm Rose for something, haven't you?"
"I want to know exactly what you're doing here."
Li Fan stopped talking for a moment, his eyes shifting toward the shadows before he continued.
"And what do you think? Do you agree with me, Emperor Artha?"
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"<<<< >>>>"
"And what do you think? Do you agree with me, Emperor Artha?" Li Fan asked, his gaze fixed on a dense shadow.
Suddenly, from within the darkness, Artha emerged, holding a stack of documents.
He glanced at the papers, then at Li Fan, his expression betraying a flicker of surprise.
After a moment of silence, Emperor Artha finally spoke.
"Li Fan, sole heir to Li Enterprises, an international jade conglomerate."
"Age: fifteen."
"Interesting…"
"What are you exactly?" Artha studied Li Fan with keen curiosity.
At that moment, Li Fan's emotions were slightly turbulent, and his heartbeat had spiked.
Since learning about martial spirits, he had harbored a vague premonition that Artha might still be alive.
Now, after **over seven hundred years**, Artha remained unchanged—his chiseled features, thick golden hair, well-groomed mustache, regal aura, and piercing blue eyes still exuded their captivating presence.
Li Fan exhaled softly and replied.
"The information you've got is accurate. I am Li Fan, nothing more."
"But regardless—do you agree with what I said?"
Emperor Artha disintegrated the documents into dust using his spiritual energy, then looked down at Li Fan and responded.
"What if I don't agree?"
Li Fan chuckled quietly, stepping forward until he stood face to face with Artha, meeting his gaze from above.
"In that case, I'll simply force it."
Li Fan carried an aura of a **descended deity**, standing at **six-foot-four**, regal and commanding as an **emperor in his own right**. Artha, towering at **six-foot-five**, locked eyes with him.
"Whoooom."
Though neither had struck yet, their mere presence was enough to **split the ground beneath them**, whipping up raging winds as if a storm had descended.
In unison, both transformed into their **martial-spirit forms**.
Li Fan was instantly clad in **a violet warplate**, while the **ancient Xian Tian sword** materialized in his grasp.
Across from him, Artha summoned his **Dragon King sword**, as **golden imperial armor** enveloped his frame.
A breath later, both vanished—only to **reappear one thousand kilometers away**, their blades clashing in a direct confrontation.
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