Strongest Soldier King

Seeing the drunkard, Luo Zheng felt as if a mountain was pressing down upon him. Such a strong presence, and this was without even displaying any intent to fight or kill. Just peacefully approaching, the atmosphere was so dense and solid. It was no wonder he was of the elite level, truly a master. Under the stimulation of the strong liquor, Luo Zheng's blood began to boil, his fighting spirit surged up, and he couldn't help but laugh heartily, "Thanks." Saying this, he began to chug again.

At that moment, Luo Zheng felt a darkness before his eyes, as if a dark cloud was bearing down on him. He was startled when the bottle of liquor in his hands disappeared. Looking again, the drunkard was still in the same place, but now with a bottle in his hand, boldly guzzling it down exactly like Luo Zheng. His body also started to sway slowly.

Soon, the drunkard stumbled toward Luo Zheng. Those who didn't know better might think the drunkard couldn't handle his liquor. Only those familiar with him knew that this was the drunkard's signature technique, Drunk Fist. Going up against Luo Zheng with his strongest technique was a sign of how much he regarded him. Everyone took the confrontation seriously, even Captain Wu thought the drunkard was making a big deal out of a small matter.

"Stingy," Luo Zheng chuckled, his gaze intense as he watched the drunkard's step skill. It seemed chaotic, but no matter from which angle he attacked, his opponent would easily dissolve it. His complexion changed slightly, ready for battle. When the drunkard was only three meters away, Luo Zheng laughed heartily, "Leave some for me." He said, lunging forward to make a grab.

The fight had inadvertently begun, and everyone's eyes were wide open, even Captain Wu watched intently.

Luo Zheng knew he wasn't as strong as the drunkard, and he understood that once these abnormal masters took the initiative, he would have no chance to block. He could only strike first to retain the upper hand for a while longer. Attacking, Luo Zheng's hands transformed into claws, one reaching for the liquor bottle, the other hidden under his arm, ready to defend or sneak attack at any moment. His knee drove toward the drunkard's stomach, attempting to force the drunkard to focus on his center of gravity.

However, to Luo Zheng's surprise, the drunkard's body swayed backward as if rooted to the spot, tilting at nearly a ninety-degree angle, then spinning. Not only did he dodge Luo Zheng's grab, but he also made the knee coming at him miss. Luo Zheng's direct and hidden attacks went unchecked, hitting the air, producing a highly uncomfortable feeling.

Luo Zheng immediately became alert, his body twisting in mid-air to evade any sneak attacks from the drunkard. Once he steadied himself, he saw the drunkard still standing in the same place, fiercely guzzling strong liquor as if nothing had happened. Luo Zheng's face grew even more somber as his fighting will completely boiled over. With a twist of his body, he lunged like a cheetah at the drunkard once more, suddenly squatting and sweeping his leg out, attempting a broad sweep.

The drunkard easily neutralized the attack, igniting Luo Zheng's fighting will. An all-out strike, the fierce sweep of his leg brought the sound of rushing air as the attack focused on the drunkard's feet. The drunkard, who was tilting back to gulp down liquor, lifted a leg and kicked back at Luo Zheng. "Puh," the muffled sound of flesh hitting flesh exploded like summer thunder, deeply moving.

Luo Zheng had anticipated the drunkards counter, but didn't expect it to be so fast, so fierce and decisive that he couldn't implement his own counter. The violent collision between their legs caused muscles and bones to be compressed, the pain was unbearably intense as if his entire leg had gone numb, startling him greatly. This power was much greater than Snow Fox's; a true master indeed.

"Hmm?" The scene where Luo Zheng was expected to be kicked flying didn't happen; he only retreated two steps before stabilizing himself. Everyone around was enlightened, having a clear assessment of Luo Zheng's strength. Even Captain Wu showed a look of pleasant surprise. Anyone who could block a full-strength strike from the Drunkard could be considered an Ordinary Soldier King, at least in terms of close-quarters combat skills.

"Again." Luo Zheng's sneak attack was effortlessly neutralized by the Drunkard's simple but powerful method. In the face of absolute strength, all techniques are futile. Yet, Luo Zheng's fighting spirit flared even more. He took a deep breath and suddenly felt the burning sensation of the medicinal wine spreading throughout his body. The warm current surged, and the pain in his legs seemed to lessen. He paused, then realized, "This medicinal wine is really good stuff," and shouted, "Drunkard, let me have another drink, and then let's fight again after I've drunk it."

"Alright, come and take it, but hurry up, or there'll be none left," said the Drunkard lazily, his eyes blurry, looking utterly intoxicated. No one noticed the flash of admiration hidden in the Drunkard's hazy eyes. He passed the bottle forward a bit, then continued drinking with a sway of his body.

"Great." Luo Zheng replied excitedly, pushing off the ground forcefully with his foot, channeling his power through his steps, lunging forward like lightning to target the Drunkard's upper body. His moves were simple, direct, with no fancy tricks or contingency plans - pure aggression. His moves weren't exquisite, but they posed an even greater threat.

Amid his avid drinking, the Drunkard tilted slightly, drawing a circle with his hand to avoid Luo Zheng's grasp. His eyes narrowed sharply, and he was startled to see Luo Zheng's hands moving swiftly, like rain beating on banana leaves, creating a blur before him. His expression turned serious as he reached out with lightning speed and grasped Luo Zheng's wrist within the illusion.

At that moment, Luo Zheng's hand was only five inches from the Drunkard's eyes. A touch could have been an attack in the blink of an eye. And while he wouldn't have struck hard, a light tap would still have been painful enough, a risk the Drunkard wasn't willing to take. He inwardly exclaimed at the close call and tightened his grip, preparing to teach Luo Zheng a lesson.

Luo Zheng felt like his wrist was being clamped by a large pair of pliers, burning in pain, as if his bones were about to break. He clenched his teeth and persisted, but a hint of joy flickered in his eyes. The Drunkard realized suddenly that he might have fallen into Luo Zheng's trap. His eyes widened with fury like the blazing sun, as he radiated an overwhelming battle aura like a War God descending from above.

The torrential battle intent caused Luo Zheng's breathing to stall, but he still gritted his teeth and persevered, secretly preparing the short knife hidden in his palm to strike. The Drunkard, ever vigilant, was startled by a flicker of white light, like a nimble snake or a dragon gliding through the air, lightning-fast, aiming straight for his eyes -- the Finger Knife technique, impossible to defend against.

The Drunkard had not expected Luo Zheng to pull off such an eerie move while having his wrist caught and was greatly shocked. He knew he couldn't just let go, as it would only make Luo Zheng's attacks more lethal. In the intense moment, he leaned back to increase the distance from the attack, and his hand holding the bottle flashed toward Luo Zheng's neck like lightning.

Luo Zheng had been waiting for this moment. His short knife shot out like lightning, relentlessly pursuing the Drunkard as if it were a venomous snake hunting its prey. With just a few inches separating them, the lightning-fast knife unleashed a heart-pounding attack, tearing through the air with a hissing sound. The Drunkard, shocked, was nonetheless a combat expert and did not panic. Instead, he twisted his body in an eerie manner, dodging the knife's strike.