Transmigration To Magus World-Chapter 141 - 142: A Soul-Stirring Strike

Chapter 142: A Soul-Stirring Strike

Retreat, yet a moment too late.

In that instant, the light gauze robe adorning Ken ken suddenly burst apart, as if struck by a fierce current of air. Countless silvery needles, resembling streams of mercury, shot out explosively in all directions.

Aizen had barely taken two steps back when he was engulfed in a dazzling shower of silver light.

At that moment, even drawing his blade would be futile.

Reacting swiftly and decisively, he struck out with both palms.

The powerful inner energy gathered within his palms, utilizing a special force-exerting technique to channel a terrifying surge of energy through his palm’s acupoints. The resulting force erupted outward in a devastating blast.

Heaven-Splitting Palm!

Two immense palm imprints, accompanied by a fierce wind, were unleashed.

In that instant, the flowers and trees surrounding the courtyard shattered into fragments, scattering like splinters. The silvery needles were swept away by the force, resembling a scene of countless pear blossoms blooming simultaneously.

A fleeting, bare silhouette—a graceful and alluring figure—flashed before him and vanished into the courtyard in the blink of an eye.

The beauty was gone, leaving only the echo of a charming laugh. The lingering fragrance gradually faded.

"Today, I disrobed for you; next time we meet, Ken Ken will be expecting some interest in return."

On the ground lay a tattered piece of gauze.

Aizen’s gaze flickered as he slowly withdrew his palms and frowned at his robes.

His brocade clothing was riddled with tiny, dense silver needles.

With a surge of inner energy, he expelled the needles from his body. Peeling back a corner of his robes, he examined his skin—now marked with countless small red welts. In some places, the skin was even punctured, with faint traces of blood seeping through.

Fortunately, the needles were not laced with poison.

If he hadn’t unleashed the Heaven-Splitting Palm in time, the needles would have done far more than graze his skin—they would have pierced his body and endangered his internal organs.

"The Little Demoness Ken ken is indeed formidable. Ranked 65th on the Human Rankings, she truly lives up to her reputation. Yet, I managed to gain a slight edge in our exchange. It seems I now possess the strength to contend with the top 60."

Aizen gazed at the cold moon hanging in the sky, his thoughts swirling.

Before mastering the Demonic Eye Art, he had already defeated Marques, ranked 96th on the Human Rankings.

After mastering the Demonic Eye Art, he even severed the arm of Nathan, wielder of the Polearm of Destruction.

When news of Aizen severing Nathan’s arm spread, the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion, the imperial agency responsible for maintaining the Heaven, Earth, and Human Rankings, updated the Human Rankings the very next day.

On that day, Demon Aizen ascended to rank 75 on the Human Rankings.

This meant that the Celestial Mechanism Pavilion assessed Aizen’s strength as far surpassing that of Nathan. His prowess now nearly rivaled that of Ryven in his prime.

Conversely, the one-armed Nathan had fallen drastically in strength and was removed from the rankings altogether, his place claimed by another.

The Magus world never lacked for fearsome warriors with overwhelming fame, but such figures often burned brightly like meteors before vanishing into obscurity, consumed by the waves of Magus World.

A high-level third-tier spiritual technique had elevated Jiang Aizen’s combat strength by more than double, propelling him to rapid growth.

This was understandable.

Few martial artists in the magus body refining stage could master techniques of the third tier, let alone a spiritual technique that was nearly impossible to defend against.

The Little Demoness Ken ken ranked 65th because of her unique Sorcery arts, which combined spiritual attacks, charm, and other vexing methods.

But she underestimated Aizen, assuming her strength exceeded his. Emboldened, she barged into his residence, only to nearly stumble.

If Aizen hadn’t recently broken through to the Refined Organs Stage, he might have struggled to gain the upper hand against this Little Demoness.

"Milord!"

A group of guards rushed over from all directions, their expressions a mix of alarm and severity.

It had been a long time since anyone had dared to storm the headquarters of the World Association.

If it were an ordinary branch in another city, such audacity might be overlooked. But this was the headquarters in Great Plain city, guarded by numerous disciples of the Heavenly Demon Clan. For someone to break in was an act of sheer boldness.

"Who is responsible for this area?" Aizen asked, picking up the tattered gauze from the ground with an indifferent expression.

"Reporting to Milord, this subordinate is responsible for this area. I await your punishment."

A guard stepped forward, his physique imposing with a broad chest that resembled a steel plate. His tiger-like gait and bristling beard exuded an aura of ferocity.

He cupped his fists and bowed deeply, his tone filled with respect.

"Hmm."

Aizen’s eyes flickered subtly. His ears caught the faint sound of flowing blood within the guard’s body—like liquid mercury.

A warrior of the Refined Blood Stage.

Suddenly, Aizen threw a punch—a straightforward strike from the Thunderbolt Fist technique’s basic move: Thunderclap.

This move emphasized building momentum. If unleashed hastily, its power was greatly diminished. Moreover, Aizen barely used any inner energy, so the signature lightning effect of the technique was absent.

He was testing the guard’s abilities.

Yet, even as the punch neared the guard’s forehead, the man remained motionless, head bowed.

Whoosh!

The fist stopped an inch from the guard’s forehead. The force of the punch blew his hair into disarray.

The surrounding guards looked on in astonishment.

"Why didn’t you dodge?" Aizen asked.

"This subordinate failed in his duty. If Milord wishes to punish me, I will accept it without resistance or evasion."

The burly man’s voice was deep and resonant, like the tolling of a bell, exuding a calm and unshakable dignity.

Aizen’s eyes flickered, and a trace of admiration arose in his heart.

Cowards were plentiful. Self-serving opportunists were even more common. Those who shirked responsibility and hoped for luck abounded. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

Yet, in the headquarters of the World Association, here was a man like this—it was rare, indeed.

"What is your name?" Aizen narrowed his eyes.

"This subordinate’s..... given name Christopher ," the burly man replied respectfully.

"Hmm. Christopher ."Aizen’s voice carried a sharp edge. "I will now use two moves against you. If you can withstand them, I will not hold you accountable for today’s events. But if you fail, I will kill you on the spot."

As soon as Aizen’s words fell, the onlookers’ expressions flickered with shock. Even the burly man was momentarily taken aback.

"Prepare yourself," Aizen commanded, his gaze locked on Christopher , leaving no room for doubt.

Christopher raised his head. Faced with life and death, humility was no longer an option. Yet his eyes remained steady, unwavering. He clasped his fists and slowly retreated, putting a distance about 3 meters between them.

"This subordinate is ready. Please, Lord Consul, proceed."

His demeanor remained calm, devoid of fear or anger.

Aizen wasted no words. In an instant, he stepped forward and launched a punch.

His steps thundered as if he intended to topple ancient trees with each stride. Every step struck the ground with an earth-shaking force, producing a booming resonance.

The sound was like rolling thunder.

It was none other than the Five Thunder Stance.

Boom!

Aizen’s fist descended like a bolt of lightning from the heavens. Though he did not exert his full strength, the punch encapsulated the essence and profound intricacies of the technique.

Everyone present felt their breath catch. It was as if an invisible thunderclap had erupted out of nowhere. To their eyes, Aizen’s punch seemed to magnify endlessly within their pupils, creating the illusion that it was about to strike them directly.

This was not a physical reality but a peculiar psychological phenomenon—a punch that seized their very spirits.

Aizen’s punch radiated an oppressive spiritual aura.

The fist’s intent was to dominate the mind.

For the weak, it harmed the body; for the strong, it wounded the soul.

Such was the terror of this punch!