Chapter 27: The Weasel Seeking a Grant of Title

Such a strange and terrifying scene shocked everyone present.

Everyone had heard of such things. Could it be a weasel seeking a seal of enlightenment?

Xiang Peng gasped in disbelief, "How is this possible? Master Li dealt with so many spirits earlier, why is there still one left?"

Seeing the bizarre creature, Lin Xuan shrank back in terror. Peering past the gaps, she looked at the old weasel. "Uncle Pan, what is that thing?" Had it not been for the people around her, she might have fainted from fear.

Pan Yang, however, was dismissive. "Just a furry beast. I’ll take care of it!"

With the appearance of the old weasel, Pan Yang turned his attention toward it.

"Is that so..." Lin Xuan looked at the old weasel, a flicker of curiosity appearing in her eyes. Perhaps sensing her gaze, the old weasel’s eerie green eyes settled on her.

"Little girl, tell me, am I a human or an immortal?"

Lin Xuan’s face turned pale instantly, and she retreated. "I... I don't know!"

"You wicked beast, you're courting death!" Pan Yang didn't waste another word. His body tensed, and he lunged toward the old weasel.

"Heh heh heh heh..." The old weasel let out a sinister, human-like chuckle. Standing on its hind legs with its hands behind its back, it tilted its body and dodged Pan Yang’s strike with effortless ease.

The attack missed. Pan Yang frowned, his eyes filled with surging murderous intent. "Rumors say that animals become spirits if they live long enough; it’s actually true. But a beast is still a beast. If you dare to court death, I shall grant your wish!"

Pan Yang’s body cracked and popped as he threw a punch that ignited the air with a terrifying sonic boom. His every move was heavy with killing intent.

*Boom...*

Pan Yang unleashed a punch, but the old weasel nimbly avoided it. The fist slammed into the ground, shattering solid stone into powder. Seeing such terrifying strength, Xiang Peng and the others were aghast. What horrifying power! To shatter stone with a bare fist—if that hit a person, they would be pulverized.

Liu Hua said with lingering fear, "President Xiang, Pan Yang must be a martial artist, right?"

Xiang Peng’s face was ashen. "Indeed. He is a member of the Lin family, and since Miss Lin calls him uncle, he is clearly no simple man." Xiang Peng subconsciously looked at Li Moxuan. Li Moxuan’s skills surely marked him as a martial artist as well, though it was unclear which of the two was superior.

Li Moxuan, however, remained calm and detached; perhaps his strength surpassed Pan Yang’s.

Pan Yang and the old weasel were locked in an intense battle. *Boom, boom, boom!* Pan Yang swung his fists with heavy, powerful force, unleashing a fierce assault. The surrounding area was filled with flying sand and gravel. The old weasel didn't show anything flashy, but it was agile, cackling as it easily dodged Pan Yang’s attacks.

Xiang Peng leaned toward Li Moxuan and asked curiously, "Master Li, can that Pan Yang take down the weasel?"

Li Moxuan offered only a cold smirk. "The weasel is just toying with him; that man is too weak."

Hearing Li Moxuan look down on Pan Yang, Lin Xuan pouted and retorted, "Uncle Pan is incredibly powerful! He is a Houtian expert, a genuine martial artist, and one of the Lin family's top fighters. How could he possibly fail to handle a single weasel?"

"A Houtian martial artist?" Xiang Peng exclaimed in surprise.

Li Moxuan had heard of martial artists. When he was cultivating, his beautiful master had once told him that martial artist ranks were divided into: Third-rate, Second-rate, First-rate, Houtian, Xiantian, Grandmaster, Great Grandmaster, Martial Saint, and Martial God. It was not easy to cultivate internal energy to become a martial artist, and few reached the Houtian realm.

Lin Xuan’s face was full of pride. "My Uncle Pan is not only a Houtian martial artist, but a master of the 'Mountain-Splitting Fist.' Sweeping through the national martial arts tournament is as easy as reaching into his pocket."

Xiang Peng and Liu Hua gasped upon hearing this. The national tournament was filled with experts. If he could sweep through it, he was indeed a top-tier fighter.

Li Moxuan merely said calmly, "No matter how strong they are, a martial artist is still just an ordinary human. That old weasel is a spirit-beast; it is not something an ordinary person can handle."

Lin Xuan scoffed in disagreement. "You don't understand what being a martial artist means!"

Li Moxuan smiled faintly and did not argue. One cannot speak of ice to a summer insect.

Everyone turned back to the battlefield. Pan Yang looked like a god descended to earth, driving the old weasel into a corner. Lin Xuan cheered him on excitedly, "Go Uncle Pan, kill it!"

Pan Yang laughed arrogantly, confident, "I'll crush it in a minute!"

Just then, the old weasel suddenly turned. A strange, eerie radiance bloomed in its green eyes, containing a sinister and soul-capturing power. Pan Yang caught it head-on. He shuddered and stood frozen in place.

The old weasel let out a strange laugh. Its large body whipped around, twisting strangely in the air as its sharp claws swiped toward Pan Yang’s heart. If it connected, he would be disemboweled.

"Watch out, it's dangerous!"

Three black-clad bodyguards changed expressions and rushed forward to protect Pan Yang. These bodyguards were skilled, moving with great speed. They appeared to be martial artists as well, though clearly not at the Houtian level. They coordinated perfectly, launching lethal strikes from three tricky angles, leaving the weasel no room to dodge.

However, the old weasel remained unhurried, casually waving its two claws. *Swish, swish...* Three cold flashes bloomed across the bodies of the guards.

*Splatter...*

In an instant, the three were disemboweled. Viscera and blood sprayed the ground as they let out miserable wails before dying tragically. Their lives had bought Pan Yang a split second.

Pan Yang regained his senses and saw the weasel lunging at him again. His face turned deathly pale, and he retreated frantically. But the weasel was too fast. Before Pan Yang could escape, it swiped again.

"Ah..." Pan Yang screamed. *Thud.* An object fell to the ground. Upon closer inspection, it was his right arm. The wound was as smooth as a mirror, and blood sprayed out instantly. The construction site was filled with the pungent smell of blood.

Pan Yang, a tough man, quickly used his left hand to press points on his shoulder to seal his blood vessels. The old weasel, unhurried, bared its sharp teeth and let out a bizarre laugh at Pan Yang.

Pan Yang’s face was deathly white, his heart in turmoil. He cried out in shock, "This... this monster’s eyes can bewitch people?" He had fallen for its trick just now and nearly lost his life.

Xiang Peng and Liu Hua had never seen such a terrifying creature. "What a horrifying monster!" "Master Li was right; even a martial artist can't handle it."

In the blink of an eye, four of the Lin family’s experts were either severely injured or dead. The old weasel’s cultivation was unknown, but its claws could cut through iron like mud. It had easily crippled Pan Yang, a Houtian expert.

Seeing her bodyguards dead and Pan Yang losing an arm, Lin Xuan rushed over, "Uncle Pan, are you alright?" Looking at the bloody wound, she burst into tears. Since she was a child, Pan Yang had protected her; in her eyes, he was an invincible guardian. She never imagined he would have his arm severed by an old weasel today.

Pan Yang trembled in pain, cold sweat streaming down his face.