Chapter 152: I'll Take Over
When did it all begin?
Whenever I see a defeated opponent lower their head and extend their hands, I naturally respond by shaking their hand.
But that's not what I want!
The ultimate martial path I pursue is...
To devote myself entirely to battle when facing a powerful enemy who might defeat me!
Netero hadn't felt this happy in a long time.
So he was grateful to the King of Ants.
The moment he clasped his hands in prayer, another massive hand emerged from an impossible angle, swatting the King of Ants away violently. He crashed into a giant stone pillar, snapping it, sending rubble tumbling and dust billowing.
"This is an underground tomb..."
"And your grave."
On one hand, the King of Ants relied on his consciousness compressed to the limit, desperately trying to catch the afterimages left by Netero's rapid movements. On the other hand, he was driven by a certain emotion...
It was a feeling of unreserved admiration for his enemy.
So, each time he was swatted away, he would rush out again immediately, feeling no pain, no fatigue.
Finally, during one attack, the King of Ants discovered the secret behind Netero's moves.
"This is it!"
"This technique, starting with him clasping his hands together, is faster than my movement speed."
Thoughts raced through the King of Ants' mind.
"In battle, unnecessary movements can easily cost you your life. Yet, paradoxically, right now, that is precisely the best weapon to defeat me."
"Pondering how he came to comprehend this technique now is utterly meaningless. Because it's a realm unreachable through purely rational paths. He must have immersed himself in near-maddening emotions, training this ultimate move for five years, ten years, or even longer."
The dust settled.
The King of Ants rose once more from the ruins, though this time he showed no urgency to attack.
He gazed at Netero and spoke: "I have sensed the results of your long, devoted training to enhance your abilities. This represents a level beyond perfected mastery—an exceedingly rare achievement worthy of admiration!"
What the King intended as praise only infuriated Netero completely.
You brat, don't you dare speak to me in that condescending tone!
Behind Netero, the 100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva began shedding twin trails of bloody tears as his aura intensified once more.
The second round of endless mutual assault commenced again.
The King of Ants maintained only one tactic from start to finish: relentless attacking.
Netero's 100-Type Guanyin remained the only technique capable of surpassing the King, but if it only inflicted minor wounds, then this move held no true terror.
From the King's perspective, the 100-Type Guanyin ultimately followed predetermined punching patterns. As long as he attacked from angles those palms couldn't defend against, logically Netero would be forced to deploy new palm strikes.
His task was to verify all possible combinations of Netero's 100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva.
Find the angles that compelled new palm techniques, then attack!
That said, while the 100-Type Guanyin had limited forms, its variable combinations were numerous—nearly infinite!
This was precisely why Netero had never been defeated.
However, every person has their unique rhythm,
unconsciously favoring or disliking certain patterns, naturally forming personal distinctive styles. If one could grasp the flow of his rhythm, finding Netero's preferred fighting style among these countless combinations wasn't impossible.
Provided you possessed a body as formidable as the King's, offering nearly unlimited room for error.
Because accomplishing this was as difficult as finding the single correct needle among countless upright needles in a needle mound.
Then precisely threading the line like an arrow through the needle's eye to strike the target ahead.
This was the only possibility found within impossibility.
The King was laughing.
From initially being forced to respond in battle, he now delighted in it as much as Netero.
"HA HA HA HA!"
"Please don't exhaust yourself to death before I complete this task!"
The King's intentions were completely transparent to Netero.
He knew what the King aimed to achieve.
Yet this was an open, honorable strategy.
Facing palm strikes assaulting from every angle, the King could reorganize his posture at maximum speed to counterattack. If Netero's palm techniques were poorly chosen, the King's incredible speed would inevitably shorten his own next move's timing.
Meaning, should Netero show the slightest negligence, the King would tear off his limbs before he could complete his worshipful palm-joining gesture, deciding the match.
Every palm strike Netero launched had to be his optimal choice.
This was a contest of endurance!
Hundreds upon thousands of heavy blows accumulated pain gradually within the King's body.
But...
The price for achieving this was Netero's right leg.
The King of Ants shook the blood from his hand and spoke calmly, "Stop your bleeding first. You promised earlier that if I defeated you, you would agree to my request."
"Your strength is quite remarkable among humans..."
"What's wrong? If you don't stop the bleeding quickly, you'll die from blood loss." The King of Ants noticed Netero staring blankly to the side.
Almost simultaneously with his words, he also turned to look in that direction, his gaze becoming extremely sharp.
Step.
"It seems I made it in time." Mord stopped walking, looked at Netero, and said, "Want to pass the baton? Let me take the second half?"
"One after another, what kind of joke are you all playing with me?!" Netero shouted, slapping his right hand hard against the base of his right thigh. The wound immediately began to contract at a visible rate, stopping the bleeding.
"I'm not ready to step down yet!"
Sweat beaded on Netero's forehead as he stared intently at the King of Ants and declared, "I was just careless earlier when you injured me. Don't get cocky—the real battle is just beginning!"
Mord, who had been prepared to take Netero's place, clearly found the old man unappreciative of his offer.
Mord still felt respect for him. Even with one leg severed, the aura around him showed no sign of weakening.
Meanwhile, the King of Ants pointed out the reason for Netero's defeat.
"In your subconscious, there are types of moves you reject. This tendency limits you within what should be infinite choices."
The King of Ants raised his right hand and pointed at Netero, issuing his declaration of victory.
"Next, I will take your left arm!"
Mord, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but marvel inwardly. Although Netero and the King of Ants had exchanged blows for less than a minute, Netero's palm techniques had already shifted through over a thousand variations.
Having fought Netero himself, Mord knew well how troublesome this move was.
But just as the King of Ants had said, he had found a way to break it.
Many things become much easier the second time around.