Dashing forward, Tian Qingfeng threw a punch at one of the cultists holding a bat.
The cultist, with a serious expression, placed the bat between himself and Tian Qingfeng's fist to brace for the impending impact.
As a low tiger-like rumble resounded, the cultist didn't even budge.
Seeing that, the rest of the cultists laughed as they charged at Tian Qingfeng.
Dodging the swings, Tian Qingfeng released a breath as he stepped back and returned to the Eight Tigers Fist Arts Resting Tiger stance.
Feeling the microvibrations contained within his body, Tian Qingfeng realized something. Unless he was at the skin tempering layer, he wouldn't be able to reach the 5th form, let alone the 8th form of the Eight Tigers Fist Art.
Even attempting to perform the 4th form right now would put such an extreme strain on his body that he would need immediate medical attention, or he would die. At most, he could use the second form continuously at the moment. Using the 3rd form would put less of a strain on his body than the 4th form, as it would only need him to lie in bed for a month, but it should still only be used in extreme situations.
That said, he could feel the power coursing through him. Even just maintaining the first form had already increased his punching force from 4,536 kilograms to 4989.6 kilograms. That was almost 5,000 kilograms!
Punching out again, Tian Qingfeng performed the second stance. Punching out with nearly 5,000 kilograms of force, he slammed his fist into a metal pipe that was swinging at him.
As his knuckles connected with the pipe, both of them staggered backwards. The cultists were surprised at that outcome, especially the one holding the pipe, since that was almost their full power.
"They should be only at the initial stage of the fifth layer of muscle strengthening." Tian Qingfeng thought, "Blood Cult members could boost their strength by burning their own blood, but they would at most increase their strength to 5,500 kilograms."
As Tian Qingfeng was contemplating how strong the cultists were, he quickly reconsolidated his inner qi using the Resting Tiger stance. As the amount of inner qi doubled, he could feel his physical output increase to 5,443.2 kilograms.
The two cultists with baseball bats rushed forward, screaming as a red mist emerged from their bodies as their veins bulged out.
A heavy metallic smell of iron covered the surroundings as they slammed their baseball bats down on Tian Qingfeng.
Taking a step forward, while maintaining the 8 Tigers Fist Art's second form, Tian Qinfeng punched the first bat, sending the first cultist stumbling back. Using the rebound force, he sidestepped the second incoming bat.
As the second bat hit the ground, it made a sharp ringing noise. Tian Qingfeng dashed forward and drove a right hook into the cultist's gut.
Unfortunately, the other three cultists wielding pipes arrived at that moment. Tian Qingfeng, instead of retreating, deflected an incoming metal pipe with his left hand as he shifted his feet to dodge one pipe while taking a hit in the stomach.
Stumbling back, Tian Qingfeng regained his footing as he recovered from the blow to the stomach.
The cultist who took the right hook to the gut doubled over. The rest of the cultists looked on in shock as the doubled-over cultist started to cough up blood.
While the four other cultists were still in shock, Tian Qingfeng stepped up and slammed a fist into the chest of the cultist on the left, and then kicked the second cultist on the left, causing them to stumble back.
The cultist on the left dropped his metal pipe as he staggered back and dropped to the floor with blood seeping out from his lips. The cultist on the right, however, was only knocked back from the kick; he was not injured. Maybe bruised, but he didn't suffer any injury.
The third cultist with a metal pipe snapped out of his shock and slammed their metal pipe into Tian Qingfeng in retaliation.
"The 8 Tigers Fist Art is a fist art; of course, it wouldn't work with legs." Tian Qingfeng realized.
Crossing his arms, Tian Qingfeng blocked the strike while using the impulse of force to take a few steps back and retreat to reassess the situation.
Two of the 5 cultists were severely injured and incapacitated, while three cultists are left. Of the three left, one had a baseball bat while the other two held metal pipes.
While one of the cultists was recovering from being kicked backwards and the remaining cultist with the baseball bat still hadn't reconvened with his group yet, Tian Qingfeng rushed in and sent a barrage of punches at the remaining cultist with the metal pipe. Each punch slammed into him like heavy mallets.
As the cultist resisted the barrage, he occasionally managed to swing the pipe at Tian Qingfeng's head between the gaps, forcing Tian Qingfeng to redirect his prepared punch to block the strike. Some strikes Tian Qingfeng successfully dodged or blocked; others, he took to the face.
Eventually, Tian Qingfeng managed to land two good punches on the cultist before his comrades were able to regroup with him, sending him flying into the alley house's brick fence.
"Ptui"
Tian Qingfeng spat out a mouthful of blood as he returned to the Resting Tiger stance. Looking at the remaining two cultists running towards him, Tian Qingfeng prepared to re-engage when they suddenly staggered and dropped to their knees.
Clawing at their throats, their weapons dropped on the ground with a sharp clang. Blood-red mist flowed out of their body. Looking around, the three fallen cultists were twitching while blood-red mist flowed out of them.
Tian Qingfeng traced the cloud of blood red mist flowing from the cultists to where Wu Haoran was fighting the saber-wielding cultist in red robes.
Wu Haoran, battered and bruised, was backing up from a dense cloud of blood-red mist.
After all of the bloody fog merged with the dense blood cloud, it began to converge towards a muscular figure within. The fog thinned, revealing a saber-wielding man with a bare muscular torso, as it converged towards pulsating blood red markings on his torso.
The pulsating markings, after absorbing all of the blood-red mist, burrowed into his skin, causing his flesh to writhe. As the markings became pulsing veins, He cracked his neck as he focused his gaze towards Wu Haoran and Tian Qingfeng.