Chapter 73: Do You Yield or Not?

Yang Jun unleashed his full power, charging forward like a ferocious tiger descending the mountain, his momentum awe-inspiring. Lu Ming was taken aback as well—he hadn’t expected Yang Jun’s strength to reach such a terrifying level, with a fiery aura of power blazing around him.

Even that force alone was enough to keep ordinary martial artists at bay; anyone who came too close would be scorched by it, and the weak would be reduced to ashes. Yet, ever since Lu Ming had consumed a dragon and cultivated for a year, not only had his physique become formidable, but he also possessed the might of a dragon. In terms of pure strength, he had yet to meet his match.

Seeing Yang Jun’s overwhelming power, Lu Ming’s interest was piqued. With a dragon’s roar, clear and resounding, a golden flame ignited around him as well. This was the manifestation of him fully unleashing the power of the dragon, his strength overflowing—like Yang Jun, his body could no longer contain such force.

By now, Yang Jun’s fists were already at Lu Ming’s chest. Lu Ming did not flinch, meeting the attack head-on. What followed was a barrage of heavy blows, each strike ringing out with the sound of fist meeting flesh. The terrifying force behind every kick and punch made the onlookers’ hearts pound with fear—they could sense that, under such an onslaught, they could not withstand even a single blow without being gravely injured.

One by one, their faces turned pale. Only now did they realize that Yang Jun’s usual display of strength was but a fraction of the truth. And only now did they see that this unremarkable young man was truly monstrous, able to stand toe-to-toe in raw strength with Yang Jun, whose power seemed to reach the heavens.

As the duel intensified, the two exchanged ever more violent blows. Yang Jun’s attacks were simple and direct—he relied on overwhelming force to crush and shatter anything that dared oppose him. Lu Ming, on the other hand, merged divine combat techniques into his attacks. With the aid of these mystical arts, Yang Jun had already taken more than a dozen heavy blows in an instant, while Lu Ming himself withstood several of Yang Jun’s tempestuous strikes.

All who witnessed this scene were shocked anew. Yang Jun was already so powerful, his strength rivaling that of a grandmaster, and yet he was being pushed back. Just how strong was Lu Ming?

At that moment, Yang Jun, who had been on the defensive, suddenly let out a furious roar, and the flames of power around him surged. He took a hard kick from Lu Ming, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, but seized the opportunity to land a full-force punch on Lu Ming’s chest.

Lu Ming was sent flying, crashing through a row of barracks on the east side. Yang Jun followed close behind, leaping after him into the collapsed buildings—he had just expended more than half of the energy in his core to create this chance, and he couldn’t let it slip away.

The crowd watched in tense silence. Suddenly, amid the swirling dust of the ruined barracks, a loud crash sounded as a figure was thrown backward, slamming into the barracks on the west side and bringing down several rooms. Then, with a clear, dragon-like cry, Lu Ming leapt from the rubble and hurled himself toward the western barracks.

Again, the sound of fists meeting flesh rang out. Yang Jun and Lu Ming, emerging from the fallen buildings, flashed onto the training ground and resumed their fierce battle, neither yielding an inch. But now, Yang Jun’s fiery aura was clearly fading; after his explosive burst of power, he was beginning to weaken. Meanwhile, the golden flames around Lu Ming only grew stronger.

With his dragon-forged body, even Yang Jun’s extraordinary talent was no match for him. Yet Yang Jun, though aware he was losing, had no intention of giving up—he attacked relentlessly, abandoning all defense.

Watching this, Sun Zhengde was beside himself with anxiety. He couldn’t have imagined that Lu Ming would prove so formidable, actually overpowering the military’s little tyrant. Now that the fight had become a struggle for life and death, Sun Zhengde’s heart was in his throat. Yang Jun was the grandson of the God of War—if anything happened to him, who in all of China could bear the old general’s wrath? Least of all Sun Zhengde himself, the base commander, who would surely be obliterated in the storm of the God of War’s fury.

But now, the fight was so intense that no one else could intervene. Sun Zhengde was just an ordinary soldier; he would be torn to shreds by the shockwaves before he could even get close. All he could do was worry.

Seeing Yang Jun, now at a clear disadvantage, still attacking with reckless abandon, Lu Ming gave a cold smile. “Is that all you’ve got? Is this your full strength?”

Yang Jun said nothing, only attacking all the harder.

Lu Ming threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! So much for your little tyrant reputation. Today I’ll show you what real power is!”

With that, the dragon crystal within him spun rapidly, and the energy he had accumulated through cultivation surged forth like a spring. Golden flames erupted from his body, shooting more than ten meters high. Bathed in this seething fire, Lu Ming seemed like a god descended to earth, his might unparalleled.

Lu Ming possessed two sources of power: the pure, physical strength gained from consuming the dragon, and the magical energy cultivated through the Dragon Soaring Technique. Normally, this magic was meant for casting draconic spells, but relying on his formidable physique, Lu Ming forcibly converted it into raw strength. This conversion was highly inefficient, with more than half the magic lost in the process. But now, with the battle firmly in his favor, Lu Ming did it deliberately—to utterly crush Yang Jun in terms of strength.

Wasn’t Yang Jun supposed to be invincible in raw power? Then Lu Ming would defeat him with overwhelming force, leaving him completely convinced of his inferiority.

Now, as Yang Jun saw Lu Ming’s strength rise yet again, a look of terror finally appeared on his face. The elite Yanlong commandos were stunned speechless—Lu Ming’s power was now beyond belief. Their invincible little tyrant was being utterly suppressed before their eyes; it was almost too much to accept.

But the brutal truth was right before them.

Lu Ming, his power surging, gave a vicious grin at the stunned Yang Jun and threw a punch. It was like a meteor from the heavens, packed with unimaginable force, and in the blink of an eye it was upon Yang Jun. Blood streamed from all seven orifices of Yang Jun’s face, but as Lu Ming’s fist—enough to shatter mountains—closed in, Yang Jun gritted his teeth, roared, and met it head-on with a punch of his own.

With a deafening boom, Yang Jun unleashed all the power stored in his core, yet still could not withstand Lu Ming’s earth-shattering blow. His massive body was sent flying high into the air.

Lu Ming did not relent. Leaping after him, he delivered another punch to Yang Jun’s abdomen. With a thud, the now defenseless Yang Jun was smashed into the ground, leaving a human-shaped crater in the concrete.

The commandos cried out in shock. Sun Zhengde’s face went ashen with fear. Seeing Yang Jun lying motionless in the pit, his fate uncertain, Lu Ming still did not stop. Landing beside him, he stomped down hard on Yang Jun’s stomach, grinding his foot mercilessly.

Only then did Lu Ming say slowly, “Do you yield?”

At this point, Yang Jun was bleeding from every opening, his eyes unfocused. He stared at Lu Ming in silence.

The commandos’ hearts twisted in their chests. They knew Yang Jun’s character well—he had never admitted defeat in his life. But if he didn’t yield now, given Lu Ming’s ruthlessness, Yang Jun would be lucky to escape with his life.

They could all see it clearly now: Lu Ming showed no regard for Yang Jun’s status and fought with lethal intent. Even with absolute advantage, he would not let Yang Jun off—he meant to break him completely. If Yang Jun refused to yield, he was in for more suffering.

Seeing Yang Jun staring silently at him, Lu Ming sneered and pressed down harder with his right foot. A surge of immense power poured into Yang Jun’s body, rampaging through his insides. Yang Jun’s face twisted in pain.

But Lu Ming showed no sign of stopping. He kept pressing down with increasing force, each wave of power ravaging Yang Jun’s body and spirit.

“I’ll ask you again—do you yield?” Lu Ming said, his face expressionless.