Chapter 726: Chapter 612: The Undying Rule_2 As the fist heavily landed on Baili An’s chest, the sneer in Hao Nong’s eyes finally dispersed. Regardless of whether this young man would die today or not, he had at least felt that Baili An was seriously abiding by the rules, not using a trace of Spiritual Power, taking the punch head on. To disregard one’s life like that, it may well be, but he, Hao Nong, liked people who honored their promises. The formidable Punching Power stirred up white waves of air in a fan shape, spreading outward and covering the majority of the space from view. Hao Nong had never cultivated the ability to see Divine Skills with his eyes. He could not observe the situation beyond the airwaves, yet he could distinctly hear the heavy explosions emanating from behind the young man, collapsing the entire mountain peak. Then the sound of rolling rocks followed. After a long while, the wind gradually calmed down. Within the scope of his punching force, demons lay strewn about, their bright red Demon Blood painting the entire mountain path. And at the peak of that bloody scene, one person stood tall, unyielding. Hao Nong’s pupils suddenly constricted, in disbelief. The wild winds had ceased, leaving only Baili An’s robe fluttering incessantly, as if filled with Chang Feng, rustling in the air. In the cold, clear moonlight, the light cast a pallor over his skin, making him appear even more ghostly pale. Amidst the moonlight, Hao Nong saw a pair of blood-red eyes and, beneath his punch, a deathly Netherworld Flower bloomed in eerie beauty. For a moment, Hao Nong seemed captivated by those bloody yet absurdly beautiful eyes, frozen for quite some time before realizing what exactly had happened. His fist, resting on Baili An’s chest, trembled slightly. Hao Nong withdrew his hand with shock and reluctance. The building clouds undulated heavily, filling his sleeves with wind. Baili An still stood straight on the spot, the blood-red red spider lily on his chest blooming slowly with the motion of Hao Nong’s retracted fist and just as slowly withering away. With a slight motion of his body, his outer garments began to flake away like burnt ash, revealing countless fine cracks oozing blood from his chest. Seeing this, Hao Nong finally took a long breath, his heart slightly relaxed. Although he did not know by what means this young man could still stand before him, without any Spiritual Power to protect his body, how could he withstand a punch from the Primordial Mansion Realm? Hao Nong scrutinized Baili An from head to toe for a long time, his expression grave as he said, “My punch is enough to shatter your internal organs. If you value your life, return immediately to Mo City in Royal City now, and summon the sacred healer Yun Zhongji from the Demon Clan to treat you. That might save your life.” Although he did not acknowledge Baili An’s strength, he could not hate the courage it took to take his punch. Baili An let out a wry chuckle and shook his head. Though the punch was strong, as a corpse demon, he was one of the most formidable beings in the Six Realms. Despite his organs being damaged, it was far from the state of complete shattering he mentioned. Hao Nong’s expression turned stern, and he said coldly, “Don’t be ungrateful!” Baili An spoke surprisingly, “I’ll take another punch from you.” Hao Nong took this attitude as an act of supreme defiance. His voice burst like thunder as he shouted, “You think I’m easy to play with…” Before he could finish, his angry eyes suddenly contracted in disbelief as he watched a Blood Pearl deep within the cracked wounds on Baili An’s chest get absorbed back into his body like ink into paper. And then, there was no more bleeding. The bright red wounds also began to fade away gradually during their conversation. Baili An repeated, “I’ll take another punch from you.” Hao Nong finally became serious, confirming that he had underestimated the young man before him. He looked at him very earnestly and said, “Last time I only used thirty percent of my strength.” Baili An felt a secret admiration in his heart. Just thirty percent of his strength had damaged his innards; a full force punch might be quite intolerable. Without waiting for Baili An to speak, a crackling sound like thunder and lightning resounded between the devastated peaks, and Hao Nong straightly threw another punch. This time, he did not skimp on his strength, easily coercing the invisible Spiritual Power between heaven and earth into physical form, instantly tearing it into countless flurries of cotton thistles. The martial body, harboring a Primordial Mansion, encapsulates an entire world. Though Martial Artists cannot harbor Spiritual Power in their bodies, the energy from the world stored within the Primordial Mansion is, in essence, one and the same as the natural aura of the world. The cultivation of Martial Artists is difficult to advance, but once they cross that threshold between man and heaven, this body is no longer just a common fleshly vessel. At the pinnacle of Martial Arts, one can peek and stand parallel to heaven. Like a fist of weathered iron filings, Hao Nong’s punch collided with Baili An’s chest, but the expected image of the young man’s upper body being blown apart did not happen. Baili An’s body shook, the ground beneath his feet cracked abruptly, with fissures snaking a hundred miles without stopping. That familiar red Netherworld Flower bloomed in pairs. And Baili An still did not fall. Hao Nong’s expression grew more solemn as he stared fixedly at the two Netherworld Flowers, his brows knotted tightly, seemingly unable to comprehend what kind of existence they were. The Netherworld Flowers contained no Spiritual Power, which meant Baili An had not broken the rules. And Hao Nong knew that even their kind, those who cultivated the body to a certain degree, would undergo extraordinary changes while being resistant to damage. Interest kindled within him as he looked at Baili An, his voice carrying a deep curiosity, “I’m very curious whether, after taking my three punches, you will still be able to stand as calmly as you do now.” Baili An’s bare skin exposed to the mountain winds was slowly becoming eerily suffused with a faint red, as if his body was silently enduring an extremely terrible weight and damage. Yet, he smiled and said, “You may throw another punch, but after three punches, it will be my turn to punch you.” Hao Nong, startled, looked into Baili An’s eyes, as if understanding the true intention behind his actions that night. In the world of Martial Artists, there is an ironclad rule. A formal duel between Martial Artists does not involve competing in cultivation levels, Spiritual Power, Daoist Skill, Divine Skills, and Magic Artifacts like Qi Refiners do. Their method is very simple and very solemn. That is, each of the two dueling Martial Artists will throw three punches in turn, and after three punches, whoever falls is the defeated. Martial Artists disdain disorderly behavior through martial prowess, and except for truly necessary special circumstances, they would never easily initiate a duel. They see duels as a very solemn and sacred event; once victory and defeat are decided, the loser will offer a lifelong loyalty and life to the winner, never to betray. Such duels were too heavy for the ancient secrets to bear. Shu Ci, who once held the ancient secrets, came to Hundred Hills Mountain, took his punch without death or injury, and swore to be part of Yihe’s dark force, Shu Ci. However, this sworn pledge had a time limit; as long as Shu Ci was Shouhe of the Demon World, he was one of her dark forces. But today, since Shu Ci is no longer Shouhe of the Demon World, he no longer had to be constrained by the oath. But Baili An was not talking about the rules of ancient secrets with him; he was talking about the rules set between Martial Artists. “In this continent, many people remember the rules between Martial Artists, but you are the first in a thousand years who is willing to abide by and execute these rules,” Hao Nong withdrew his punch, his weathered eyes looking at the young man before him, and an uncontrollable touch of emotion stirred in his heart. People of the world are divided into hierarchies, and among the schools of cultivation, Qi Refiners always look down upon Martial Artists, not to mention abandoning their strengths and meeting the enemy’s strong points. “So, do you accept this challenge or not?” Baili An’s words were simple and straightforward, striking at the very heart of Hao Nong. He let out a hearty laugh, his laughter inexplicably exuberant and free-spirited, as if lifting the many years of gloom and fierceness from the depths of his eyes, “Why not accept? If you truly have the power to defeat me, my body and heart are both yours to receive.” Without further ado, Hao Nong eagerly threw another punch. And this punch, he was utterly serious, serious enough for one to clearly feel the deep respect within his Fist Intent. As the punch was thrown, no longer could one see the ordinary punch that reflected a Martial Artist’s simple essence. Hao Nong’s fist carried an aura of metal and stone, and as it shot forward, the moist night mist seemed to ignite; the decrepit walls of the mountain lit up with countless fine, crackling sparks, as if flecks from a shower of falling stars had been scattered down from the sky. The stark stones on the steep mountain were illuminated clearly, and the view between the two became transparent. Hao Nong’s punch was extremely fast, the red spider lily on Baili An’s chest noticeably paused for a moment, his chest visibly caving in even before the fist landed, as if a bowl had been pressed down upon the surface of the water. The sound of snapping breastbones followed, and at that moment, Hao Nong’s fist struck his chest squarely. Several red spider lilies bloomed at once, their stamens like flames from Hell, enveloping Hao Nong’s fist completely, before wilt.