The Almighty Martial Arts System - Chapter 274
Someone once said that women who smile often have good luck. Jiang Fei believed the same applied to men.
That’s why people accused him of being pretentious—always wearing a grin, even in battle, with one hand casually tucked behind his back.
But in truth? He just wanted better luck.
Moments ago, after piercing Miyamoto Kazuma’s chest, he’d been scheming how to “reasonably” drain the man’s inner energy dry.
Killing him outright would be such a waste.
And just as he smiled, Miyamoto—defiant to the end—lunged again. With a three-sword style, no less.
Talk about a deathbed delivery of free energy!
Jiang Fei’s grin widened.
A torrent of inner force surged from Miyamoto’s body into his, morphing into Beiming True Qi that flooded his energy sea. Compared to the paltry absorption from muscle-bound Tian Fei, this was a feast—an endless, exhilarating rush.
Thankfully, Jiang Fei’s Beiming Divine Art had progressed since then. Had he tried absorbing such violent energy as a novice, his meridians might’ve ruptured.
“What… demonic art is this?!” Miyamoto trembled violently, his facial muscles rippling like disturbed water. His teeth, once clenched firmly around the third blade, now chattered helplessly.
When Jiang Fei dismantled his “Cycle Slash” earlier, he’d been shocked. But shock was nothing.
This was terror.
Sword techniques could be countered. Strength could be surpassed. But stolen cultivation? That belonged in nightmares.
Miyamoto knew Chinese culture well—but not Jin Yong’s Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils. Terms like Beiming Divine Art or Star-Devouring Skill meant nothing to him.
Has heaven sent ghosts to spare this boy?
His third blade wobbled, its tip frozen three centimeters from Jiang Fei’s throat.
“Shhh,” Jiang Fei whispered, eyes gleaming like a child eyeing candy. “Don’t speak. Just feel it. Almost done!”
Miyamoto’s decades of cultivation—even after conversion—would save Jiang Fei years of grinding.
Worth every drop.
Clang!
The third blade hit the ground, saliva glistening on its steel. Miyamoto’s famed Muramasa and Osafune swords hung limp, their pressure on Jiang Fei’s blade now harmless.
Both men stood locked in eerie stillness. Absorption paralyzed absorber and victim alike—though anyone interfering would join the energy buffet.
Jiang Fei’s meridians burned as foreign qi crammed into his dantian, but he welcomed the pain. More. Give me more.
…..
Outside the courtyard, the audience gaped.
Even Ye Yuanyuan, mid-sprint to intervene, skidded to a halt.
Why stop when the blade’s at his throat?
From their angle, all they saw was:
-
Jiang Fei’s hand resting on Miyamoto’s shoulder.
-
Both men shuddering like electrocuted.
“Is this… love at first fight?” someone muttered.
Did two sword saints just spark a forbidden romance?
Ye Yuanyuan’s eyes narrowed. This scene felt familiar. Back in Beijing, she’d seen Tian Fei convulsing similarly after Jiang Fei “subdued” him.
He’d joked about “Beiming Divine Art”—an obvious lie.
Must be some secret acupuncture technique, she reasoned. As the “Needle King” of Chinese medicine, Jiang Fei surely had tricks beyond swordsmanship.
But why wasn’t he finishing Miyamoto off?
…..
When the last wisp of energy left Miyamoto’s body, Jiang Fei withdrew his hand.
The swordsman stumbled back, barely propping himself up with his blades. Gone was the arrogance; his hollowed-out body could barely stand.
Fifteen years of cultivation—vanished.
Without inner strength, even his disciples could now best him.
Meanwhile, Jiang Fei cycled the stolen qi through his Ren Meridian and Lung Meridian, assimilating it seamlessly. His reserves had octupled.
Yosh! He almost thanked Miyamoto in Japanese.
But the fallen master’s terror had curdled into hatred.
Disgrace awaited him in Japan.
With a final, desperate lunge, Miyamoto swung his swords at Jiang Fei’s unguarded form—
“Die—!”
Schick!
The broken tip of Jiang Fei’s sword pierced Miyamoto’s heart before his blades descended.
“Losing your power hurts, doesn’t it?” Jiang Fei watched coldly as blood frothed at Miyamoto’s lips. “Did you ever consider karma when severing others’ tendons? When taking lives?”