Urban God of War: The Live-in Son-in-law

The Path of Divine Slaughter, also known as the Path of the God of Slaughter.

Fierce as a tiger everywhere, a devourer of men in all places.

At dusk, the canopy of the sky seemed to grow even darker, a black line approaching from afar, fragile beyond measure, swaying as if blown by the wind. In truth, wherever the black line passed, the chilly sea breeze became stiff and still.

The Lord of the God of Slaughter, with autumn winds dying down, people wilt away.

"I was careless."

Such a stunning, peerless Sure-Kill Blade Technique had already surpassed any Blade Draw Slash. The Lord of the Path of Divine Slaughter truly lived up to his reputation. One wonders just how formidable Musashi must be?

Ye Feng eventually crushed an object, the only thing that the old man had left him, and also the thing he had sworn never to use against his countrymen. All this time, Ye Feng had held it as a desire in his heart.

A massive claw stretched out.

Ye Feng's expression turned peculiar. Was this the thing that the old man swore would save his life, just a big claw?

The appearance was indeed impressive, black and white scales intermingling, giving off an unparalleled sense of vigor at first glance. The grey claws gradually turned a dark red, the red of slaughter.

What if I can't win and end up being roasted and eaten?

In fact, Ye Feng's worries were superfluous, as the sharp claw seemed to come to life, grasping towards the black line. In that instant, everything became clear again.

Sato Shinichi's figure spilled out from the gaps in the massive claw, lying on the ground, violently coughing up blood. His aggressive moves had been broken, resulting in an unclear backlash.

"An Object of the Divine Path!"

"Such an incredibly real and matchless Divine Path Object has reached the Great Accomplishment Level. Don't you think it's excessive for someone of your standing to make a move against me, and beneath your dignity?"

Sato Shinichi, standing with his sword planted, looked up at the massive claw with lingering dread.

"Excessive?"

"You, an Enlightenment Period old geezer, bully a man in his twenties. Why don't you say that you're the excessive one? Give him five more years, and don't you believe he could beat you until you can't find your way home?"

"Little fellow, you're not qualified to converse with me. Quickly use the Sword Spirit hidden on you, or I'll slaughter you right now."

The massive claw transformed into a golden shadow, standing aloof with hands behind, possessing the air of someone who looked down upon the world.

"Xin Yi, didn't I warn you not to use it unless it's a life or death situation?"

A deep blue light blade blossomed in Sato Shinichi's hand and then transformed into a white-robed figure.

"Master!"

Sato Shinichi lowered his head and didn't dare to speak; his master, Musashi, was known to the world as the Sword Saint, his Divine Path Object, a sword.

"No, who are you?"

The figure in the white robe turned solemn, realizing the existence matching his own above his head.

"Old geezer, seems like you're not up to par if you can't even recognize me."

"Come with me, a good beating and you'll remember everything."

Without concerning himself with whether Musashi agreed or not, the gold shadow turned back into the giant claw and, in an instant, snatched up Musashi's avatar, soaring into the clouds.

All went quiet!

Ye Feng's expression flickered in disbelief. Was the old man really that incredible? Chasing after Musashi as if herding him off. Who was the fool that spied on the old woman bathing and got chased with a broom for it?
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The Divine Path!

Ye Feng and Sato Shinichi both instinctively adopted offensive stances. However, Sato Shinichi's brow was now slightly furrowed, and his gaze, previously firm, was now hesitant.

"Sir, what's your master's name?"

After rendezvousing with Asano Forest, Sato Shinichi had finally regained some of his confidence. That undying old man was too ruthless; despite not looking as ragged as Ye Feng, he was actually injured more severely, an internal injury.

"You go ask him yourself."

Ye Feng made a comment that particularly annoyed both of them.

You ask me!

And who should I ask?

Because Ye Feng himself didn't know the name of the old man. You might not believe it, but suddenly someone pops up, says you have remarkable bones and a natural talent for martial arts, and then after abducting and sweet-talking you into becoming his disciple, he disappears as abruptly as he appeared, like someone who loves to do good deeds without leaving a name.

But this did happen to Ye Feng. The old man didn't even tell Ye Feng where he could find him, just saying that they would meet again if it was fated.

I believed in your evil ways!

I'm fated with your granddaughter, can I meet her?

"Sir, how about we just call it quits here?"

"I can let you go, and I can also let go of the fact that you killed a few of my men. But you must promise not to trouble us again in the future."

Sato Shinichi and Asano Forest exchanged glances, suddenly coming to a decision.

"Why does it sound like this is not a negotiation, but you bestowing mercy on me?"

Ye Feng laughed.

If he let the president of the Ronin Guild go, then what would be the point of his journey?

"What do you want?"

Sato Shinichi furrowed his brows deeply.

"Death!"

Ye Feng shrugged his shoulders slightly, actions speaking louder than words.

"Baka!"

"Refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit. Kill him—worst comes to worst, we can just stay hidden and cultivate in the Sword Saint Palace."

Draw the blade, unsheathe the sword.

Dark black Qi Force exuded from within Sato Shinichi, a black tiger roaring through the forest, charging forward, its wings slicing the hurricane, trailing a dark gleam, his twin blades.

"I'm gonna flatten you."

Ye Feng faced the tiger head on and threw the first punch.

To his surprise, Black Tiger was much more agile than he had anticipated, swiftly turning its body, and its tail whip lashed out instantly.

Clang!

The tiger whip struck Ye Feng's left hand, which he used to block, making a sound like steel clashing with steel. Without time to be shocked, Ye Feng quickly kicked towards Black Tiger's abdomen.

With one kick, Black Tiger was sent flying backward, but it quickly got up again.

"This is!"

With a thought, layers of golden light surged from Ye Feng's body, and the overwhelming Qi Force formed armor around him. The golden yellow armor was imposing from all angles, making Ye Feng look like a golden War God.

"Your Divine Path Object is armor?"

A voice full of surprise came from Black Tiger.

In this world, to think someone's Divine Path Object was armor was unheard of. How afraid of death does one have to be to have such a thing? Aren't Martial Artists' Divine Path Objects typically geared towards offense?

But looking at Ye Feng, he didn't seem like a man afraid of death!

"Armor my ass!"

Ye Feng's eyes burst with golden light as his one-hundred-and-ninth acupoint opened.

He didn't understand what a Divine Path Object was, but the armor outside his body was simply the result of his internal Qi Force, which couldn't be vented otherwise and solidified into a Battle Garment following his will.

If there was any difference between the Battle Garment and the usual Moves, it was that after the one-hundred-and-ninth acupoint was opened, a quantitative change triggered a qualitative change, making it seem more real.

Who said a Martial Artist has only one hundred and eight acupoints?

In an instant, Ye Feng moved. His left hand, hit by Black Tiger's tail whip, felt as if nothing had happened. His entire person, overflowing with a fighting spirit, turned into a streak of golden light and rushed forward with increased speed.

"God of Slaughter, Hurricane Blade!"

Within the hurricane, Black Tiger seemed to transform into another shape, but before he could get a closer look, he was engulfed by the black storm.

A black tornado roared through the wasteland, slicing everything in its path into powder.

"Stop for me."

From outside the storm, Ye Feng threw punch after punch, golden fist imprints striking the hurricane and emitting a series of metallic clangs.

Punch after punch, relentless in his assault.

Throughout it all, Ye Feng's body resisted the hurricane, retreating step by step, his feet now buried in the ground up to his waist as he was pushed further back.

Finally, the wind ceased, and the hurricane diminished.

"Old man, I'm sorry, but I won't leave your body intact."

The Golden Yellow Battle Suit was now stained a layer of crimson, a vivid red painted by blood. The hurricane finally tore open, and without any hesitation, Ye Feng charged directly towards the figure inside.

Bang!

Their heads collided straight on, and Sato Shinichi, in his wildest dreams, never imagined he would die from a head injury caused by a collision.

Which normal Martial King would practice such a shameless Iron Head Technique?

Ye Feng, of course, had never practiced the Iron Head Technique, but he had a suit of armor. After the fierce collision, although his head felt heavy, he was not the one with a cracked skull.

"You've won, but this won't be the end of it."

Sato Shinichi looked at Ye Feng with a bitter smile at his lips before finally collapsing.

Whoosh!

A flash of sword light, heading straight for Ye Feng, who was still swaying. Asano Forest once again wielded their prized Blade Draw Technique.

Clang! The silver steel sword was instantly broken in two. Ye Feng didn't even try to dodge. The blade that had previously managed to injure him now hit the armor and did nothing.

"You can go join him!"

Ye Feng grabbed Asano Forest's neck and then twisted it forcefully. Afterwards, he picked up the two pieces of Broken Blade and stabbed them towards Sato Shinichi's face and heart.

"This isn't over, ance—"

Shortly after Ye Feng finished the battle, up in the sky, the two fighting figures also determined a victor. Musashi, turned into a White Shadow, was utterly shattered by a massive claw.

The giant claw once again transformed into a golden figure, who silently watched Ye Feng, lying exhausted on the ground, for a long while before fading away.

"Old guy, who exactly are you?"

The armor receded, and his military uniform was soaked in fresh red—blood from his enemies, but more so, his own. In the end, Ye Feng laughed, as if he could see the old guy smiling at him again.

Meanwhile, atop a deserted peak in the Xuanyuan Nation, an old man roasting sweet potatoes said, "He really killed him!"

The old man glanced eastward, his gaze growing sharper by the moment.

"Grandpa Long, what's been killed?"

Next to the old man sat a girl with large eyes that shone like black gems, holding a book in her hands.

"Your Little Martial Uncle killed someone quite troublesome."

The old man pulled out the sweet potato, smelled its fragrance, and handed it to the little girl.

"Grandpa Long, you've mentioned it N times now, but who is Little Martial Uncle?"

"Also, will Little Martial Uncle be in danger?"

The little girl put down her book, knowing well that the sweet potato was most certainly "borrowed" from some kind old lady.

"Of course, there will be danger. In the world of men, it's not always smooth sailing. But your Little Martial Uncle killed someone beyond his own limits, he has my old flair."

"Little Jiu, eat here while Grandpa goes to share some insights with someone."

In the mountains, the sound of a dragon's chant carried on the wind as a massive figure flew eastward.

Better to take the initiative and trouble Musashi himself rather than wait for him to cause trouble—that was the reasoning.