The Dragon’s Shadow, the King’s Name

Looking at the slightly chubby Old Wang, Matt felt as though he were looking at a mountain.

Old Wang was actually a little shorter than him. Matt was still growing—men could shoot up again at twenty-three—and Old Wang was only eighteen, not particularly tall, half a head shorter than Matt.

Yet in Matt’s heart, Old Wang was as great as a mountain, as vast as the sea, as lofty as the sky, and as enduring as a river.

His physical abilities were lacking, but his senses were too strong—strong enough that he could barely track the path of a bullet.

Old Wang catching a bullet barehanded without suffering a scratch had naturally registered in his senses as well.

Unimaginable speed, unimaginable precision, and the ability to withstand bullet damage—every one of those was far beyond him. He even possessed sensory abilities no weaker than his own. Was this the power of a kung fu master?

Just relying on "Qi" to strengthen the body and mind could elevate the five senses to the level of a naturally gifted person like him, and then give him "super vision" on top of that?

The moment he heard Old Wang’s deliberately deep, hoarse voice, Matt did not hesitate. He helped Elektra and Stick up and headed for the gymnasium.

Worry about Old Wang?

Did the mighty Kunlun Iron Fist need the concern of an ordinary man like him?

Elektra and Stick were clearly even more shocked than Matt.

Seeing Old Wang roll over like a ball with her own eyes, Elektra found it both amusing and astonishing. Such an utterly bizarre move had unleashed speed far beyond her own. He was practically a cross between a giant panda and a cheetah!

And the way he caught that bullet with his bare hand had been unbelievably cool. With physical abilities this powerful, had Captain America come back to life?

Stick’s body, nearly riddled with holes, suddenly shuddered.

Of course, he knew Captain America could not have returned to life. But he also knew what kind of person could accomplish such a feat.

Madame Gao had the most abundant "Qi" among the Five Fingers. If prepared, she could even wrap her body in Qi to resist handgun bullets. But her greatest weakness was her age; she was far slower than Murakami and Bokuto.

Catching bullets barehanded?

Impossible!

Madame Gao might be able to catch hundreds of millions of bullets at once, but not this kind.

Only a kung fu master stronger than Madame Gao could do it.

Within Stick’s limited knowledge, only people from the Seven Heavenly Cities could possess such power.

And according to intelligence received recently, one of the Seven Heavenly Cities—K’un-Lun—really had sent someone. It was even the most powerful Immortal Iron Fist.

"Let go of me! I’m going to help Iron Fist!"

Stick was so excited that tears streamed down his face.

He had previously been somewhat worried that the Immortal Iron Fist of ancient legend might not be as powerful as imagined.

Every time an Iron Fist was born, Shenlong Shou Lao had to be reborn. The shorter its reborn lifespan, the weaker it would be, and the weaker the Iron Fist who received its power would become. What if this incarnation had only lived for a few years or decades, and the Immortal Iron Fist had no talent to speak of? Wouldn’t he be weak beyond measure?

But now, it seemed his worries had been unnecessary.

Though he was not a kung fu master and could not truly sense the strength of this generation’s Iron Fist, at least he was not as weak as Stick had imagined.

Then, as the current leader of the True Pure Ones Society,

I, Stick, will follow the Immortal Iron Fist unto death and fight The Hand to the bitter end!

Bang!

Seeing Stick struggle desperately, Matt lost patience and knocked him unconscious with a punch.

In a little while, you’ll have bled dry. Do you even have the strength to fight? Wouldn’t staying just make you a burden?

Matt suddenly felt sorry for Master Wang.

Master Wang was so powerful, the mighty Immortal Iron Fist, yet he only had a pitiful handful of followers. Master Stick, did you people even have any purpose? He did not need you to deal with The Hand at all, did he?

"Immortal… Iron Fist!"

Seeing this, Giyoka Shin, who was charging toward them, cried out in shock.

Iron Fist’s strength had stunned him, but he did not seem as powerful as Master Murakami had described—the kind who could shatter mountains with a punch, split rivers with a palm, reverse waterfalls, and make Ashes of Al’ar cry out in grief.

The Immortal Iron Fist was terrifying indeed.

Not understanding K’un-Lun, he believed that legends were ultimately just legends. This Iron Fist might not be impossible to kill.

"Get him!"

Giyoka Shin fired.

Everyone else opened fire as well.

"Ha!"

Old Wang sighed, then smiled.

The sensation of standing amid this rain of bullets reminded him of the synchronized volleys of dwarven riflemen. He wondered whether Brann Bronzebeard was still roaming everywhere in search of Titans ruins, and whether Hemet Nesingwary was still hunting everywhere.

My followers, are you all well?

Rich True Qi spread through his entire body. At that moment, Old Wang was like an unparalleled master from a wuxia novel, a sweeping monk who could withstand the Dragon Subduing Palm head-on, unafraid even if the Central Plains’ Five Greats attacked together.

The green True Qi turned golden, forming a layer of light around his body.

This was the Monk skill, Golden Bell.

With Old Wang’s development, it could even withstand an orc blademaster’s Bladestorm. Mere handguns were nothing.

There was no need to use his strongest skill against fodder of this level. The Hand surely had people watching in secret; they might even be among Columbia University’s students. Old Wang did not want others to see through his abilities.

The phantom of an azure Eastern divine dragon coiled around him as Old Wang accelerated and leaped into the air.

Spiritual Dragon Stance!

The dragon’s might shook the heavens!

Rising Dragon Strike!

Three skills in succession. The burst of True Qi intimidated every enemy present, while the rapidly circling phantom azure dragon dealt real damage to them.

Against thick-skinned fellows like demon guards and dwarven warriors, even someone as strong as Old Wang could not instantly kill them with an area attack skill not known for its offensive power. But against ninjas who still possessed ordinary human bodies, it was absolutely lethal.

Bang!

Smack!

Bang bang smack!

Before they could even scream, most of the ninjas had their hearts destroyed and collapsed dead.

The ninjas farther away were fortunate enough to survive, but they were still severely injured. Moreover, the azure dragon’s might radiating from Old Wang had frightened them into terror.

This was the dragon’s might of Yu’lon, the azure dragon among the August Celestials.

How could ordinary people possibly compare?

Yes, ordinary people.

In Old Wang’s eyes, these so-called "world’s most elite ninjas" might indeed be masters of assassination and possess unwavering resolve, but compared to the battle-hardened veterans of World of Warcraft, who had fought year after year, they were far inferior. They also could not compare to the immortal veterans who had fought on the front lines during the War of Resistance against Japan.

"Dragon! It’s a dragon!"

"Amaterasu above, it’s China’s divine dragon!"

"Isn’t the dragon Korean?"

"No, it’s K’un-Lun’s divine dragon! It’s Shenlong Shou Lao!"

"Hey, wasn’t Shou-Lao supposed to be red? Why is it azure now?"

"We’re about to die, and you still care about that?"

The ninjas were terrified and afraid, yet none of them retreated.

Giyoka Shin’s voice rang out at just the right moment. "Don’t be afraid! Qi is limited, and Shou-Lao’s power is not so easy to control! He has used so much Qi that his body won’t be able to bear it. He’ll fall into weakness. Now is our best chance—kill him!"

He did not believe those words himself, but he had to raise morale. What if he happened to be right?

What if?

The ninjas were used to obeying orders. Upon hearing this, they immediately opened fire.

Their bullets were spent in the blink of an eye and blocked by the Golden Bell. Then they grabbed their Japanese swords and charged forward.

When it came to killing power, cold weapons were absolutely far stronger than handguns!

Old Wang nearly burst out laughing.

Run out of True Qi and fall into weakness?

Sorry.

Other than that weakest Iron Fist in history, he had never heard of an Iron Fist being so useless.

I’m not him!

What I excel at most is a war of endurance!