"Haha, the Chinese are indeed sharp-tongued, but that can't be your winning strategy."
The warrior from the country said disdainfully to Wu Tian, and swung his katana forward, assuming an attack stance.
"Before you die, you can tell me your name, for my longsword does not kill nameless men."
The Russian warrior added coldly, his gaze fixed on Wu Tian as if he were looking at a corpse.
Wu Tian stood tall and spoke with a firm voice: "We all share a common name—Chinese."
The leading Chinese martial artist snorted coldly, clearly not taking Wu Tian seriously: "Well done, Chinese man. Today I'll show you the power of Chinese martial artists. If you kneel down and apologize, you might save your life."
Upon hearing this, Wu Tian's lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes flashing with an indomitable light: "We are Chinese, born and raised in China, with Chinese blood flowing in our veins. How could we possibly apologize to the martial artists of your tiny country? That's wishful thinking!"
The warrior from the land roared in fury, "Fine! Then die!"
Before he finished speaking, the Russian warrior moved like a cheetah, pouncing on Wu Tian with astonishing speed.
A whooshing sound echoed through the air as the gleaming samurai sword, its sharp edge aimed directly at Wu Tian's face.
Everyone was stunned by the extraordinary and astonishing skills of the Russian warriors. Their gazes froze, as if they were firmly locked in by an invisible charm, unable to move, and their hearts were stirred with waves of emotion.
Suddenly, a crisp "ding" sound pierced the air, like a heavenly melody, yet also like a tremor deep within the soul, penetrating everyone's heart.
The warrior from the country suddenly changed his posture, as if he had been violently pushed back by an invisible force. He staggered back several steps, each step filled with resentment and astonishment.
Once the dust had settled, everyone focused their attention and saw that the long sword in the hands of the Russian warrior had turned into a solitary hilt, while the sharp blade had been reduced to countless fragments scattered all over the ground.
His face was as white as a sheet, his eyes filled with disbelief, fixed on Wu Tian's seemingly ordinary yet infinitely powerful hands, his heart churning with turbulent emotions.
How is that possible?
He couldn't believe that there was a palm in this world that could withstand his blow, which was powerful enough to shake mountains and split rocks. Even more unbelievable was that the palm wind had shattered his peerless treasured sword!
"yeah!"
The Chinese people watching were suddenly jolted awake from their astonishment and erupted in thunderous cheers, their voices filled with indescribable excitement and pride.
The previous worries and fears were instantly swept away by Wu Tian's heroic act, replaced by a deep respect and pride for this compatriot.
Although they didn't know what was going on, as compatriots of Chinese descent, the sense of pride welling up from the bottom of their hearts surged like a tidal wave, tightly connecting the hearts of everyone present, allowing them to witness this glorious moment together.
Standing in the center, Wu Tian'ao's posture was as sturdy as a pine tree, his eyes shining brightly, as if they could penetrate the fog of the mortal world and perceive every minute detail.
His eyes were deep and bright, reflecting not only the world but also an indescribable majesty.
His gaze swept over the leading Russian warrior with lightning speed, his tone calm yet powerful: "Is this what you call strength? I haven't even had my fill yet, and you've already lost."
People say that killing someone is easy, but destroying their spirit is difficult. Wu Tian's goal is not only to defeat the warriors of the Weguo Kingdom, but also to make his opponents' hearts tremble.
Faced with this group of self-important Chinese martial artists, he wanted to make the light of China an indelible shadow in their hearts, inspiring their awe for the Chinese nation.
Upon hearing this, the Chinese warrior's face contorted with rage, and he roared through gritted teeth, "You Chinese scoundrels, so cunning and treacherous, you used trickery to destroy my divine weapon and took pleasure in it, disgracing the dignity of Chinese warriors! Today, I will make you witness firsthand what true Chinese power is!"
Although still shaken by the earlier shattering of the longsword, Wu Tian's contempt and challenge instantly ignited the anger in his heart, dispelling the shadow of fear.
He snatched the giant blade from the hand of a nearby martial artist, his gaze sharp as a sword, fixed on Wu Tian: "This time you will die!"
With a roar from the Russian warrior, the entire arena seemed to tremble with an invisible force, and the surrounding air froze in that instant.
Although the longsword wasn't his, it was still a Japanese samurai sword, and he could handle it with ease.
The gleam of the blade revealed a formidable power.
Wu Tian's lips curled up slightly. Faced with this sudden threat, there was no sign of retreat in his eyes. Instead, his expression became more composed and confident.
He slowly raised his right hand, and it seemed as if there was a surge of energy between his fingers. It was the unique internal energy of Chinese martial arts flowing through his body and gathering in his palm. He then slightly extended his fingers.
With that gentle probe, his tiny two fingers actually caught the astonishing blow from the Russian martial artist.
Just now, no one saw clearly how Wu Tian destroyed the German warrior's broadsword, but at this moment, they all saw clearly how Wu Tian caught the German warrior's broadsword with just two fingers.
"Chinese martial arts are profound and extensive; how could they be compared to those of a small country like ours?"
Wu Tian's voice was calm and steady, revealing a deep sense of pride and unwavering belief in his own culture.
He remained motionless, yet exuded composure, as if he were in an invincible position.
Upon seeing this, the warrior from the country was even more enraged. He roared and exerted all his strength, determined to avenge his previous humiliation and prove the glory of the warriors from the country.
However, he discovered that Wu Tian's two fingers seemed to radiate endless power, and his long sword was tightly clamped, making it impossible for him to pull it out.
At this moment, the eyes of the warriors from the Kingdom of Wales were no longer filled with simple shock and anger, but rather with a complex emotion—a mixture of awe, resentment, and helplessness.
He knew that he had been utterly defeated in today's battle, as both his martial arts skills and willpower had been surpassed by the young Chinese martial artist before him.
Seeing the unpredictable changes in the expression of the Russian warrior, Wu Tian simply smiled and flicked his finger, sending the Russian warrior flying with his sword.
With a muffled thud, the Russian warrior was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily in front of a group of Russian warriors. His long sword flew out of his hand, kicking up a cloud of dust.
He struggled to get up, but found himself powerless, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.
"The squad leader has been defeated!" The warriors from the country were shocked and retreated, their eyes filled with fear and unease.
Wu Tian stood still, his clothes fluttering even without wind, his eyes gleaming with the light of victory.
He looked at the German warrior lying on the ground and said calmly, "Your German warriors have a 'glorious tradition' of committing seppuku, so I'll give you that glorious opportunity."
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