STNS: Chapter 567 (Patreon)

Wu Jian could not get the image of Wu Meiying masturbating out of his mind even several days later. The way she had sat with her back to the wall, legs spread as she furiously rubbed herself to an orgasm had been a sight to behold but also made his face feel extremely flushed, like Shuchang had slammed a fire technique into it. Her moans had been a horrifyingly arousing nightmare in his ears, and the way she called his name? He thought he might have died. Sensual didn’t begin to cover it.

He hadn’t confronted her about it, instead quietly leaving her to what she was doing. In truth, he didn’t know what to say. She had told him that they couldn’t do anything together right now and had explained her reasons. They were logical. They made sense. But a part of him had always wondered and worried if maybe there was another reason she didn’t want to spend the night with him. Well, those worries had flown out the window now. It was obvious that the reason Wu Meiying was abstaining almost entirely was because she wouldn’t be able to control herself.

“Jian, are you okay?” Zhou Lihua poked him in the side.

He glanced at her and smiled. “I’m fine. Just… occupied with some stuff.”

Raising an eyebrow in question, Zhou Lihua left a silent invitation to talk, but there was no way he could tell her about what he saw.

“Well, you had better get your head back on straight. We’re about to address all the members of the Heavenly White Tiger Clan.”

“Right.”

Wu Jian slapped his cheeks in an effort to turn his concentration to something else.

They were at the colosseum, where the Duel of the Fang would have taken place had Wu Jian not decided to forgo all that and just kill the Khan.

The colosseum was large, of course, but it wasn’t so impressive a structure that it would leave Wu Jian breathless. He had seen many incredible buildings in his time. This edifice wasn’t particularly big or imposing. It looked like a plain cylinder without a roof. There were tertiary seats made entirely of stone. Really, the most incredible thing about this structure was the story of how the first Khan had carved this entire structure from a single stone block with nothing but his claws.

The seats were already filled. He looked at the numerous tiger clansmen, who were also looking at him. Men and women pointed and spoke as he stood there with his women, Shuchang, and Töri Qiang. The Khan’s honor guard was also there. They stood silently at attention. Wu Jian had spent the past several days thoroughly instilling a sense of loyalty into them, which equated to forcing them into submission. He had beaten all of them so badly they had bared their bellies to him.

Taking a deep breath, Wu Jian stepped forward as everyone else stepped back. He infused qi into his lungs and used it to help project his voice to the entire colosseum.

“The Khan is dead,” he boomed. “I killed him in single combat.”

The crowd stirred. He saw disbelief on the faces of many and shock on the faces of some. It was clear they didn’t believe him. Why should they? None of them knew him. To them, he was just some random cultivator, and a human at that.

He summoned something from his storage ring and tossed it on the ground. It rolled a couple of times before eventually coming to a stop, revealing the Khan’s slack-jawed face staring up at the crowd. Tigers had naturally sharp eyes. And all members of the Heavenly White Tiger Clan were cultivators. There was no way they couldn’t tell whose head that was.

An uproar followed. Tigers bellowed, some in rage, some in shock. Wu Jian was curious to note that not a single tear was shed, so it was true that Batu Khan was not well-liked by his own people.

“SILENCE!!!”

Before Wu Jian could stop them, a voice roared from above.

Everyone looked up.

Striding down the colosseum seats was a man covered in scars from countless duels. They littered his arm, neck, and legs, hundreds if not thousands of crisscrossing scars. His body was thick, each limb like a tree trunk, and he had a face made of marble. The simple outfit he wore made him look oddly intimidating.

The man locked gazes with Wu Jian. His eyes were an icy blue.

“No one can now deny that the Khan is dead… but I question whether you truly killed him in one-on-one combat.”

The man leapt down from the seats and onto the colosseum floor, where he quickly strode over to Wu Jian, who only now realized how much bigger this guy was than him. He must have been at least four or even five heads taller. What kind of food did a guy have to eat to get this big, Wu Jian wondered? Despite the massive height difference, Wu Jian did not back down.

“I agree with Baatar Tömör,” another person said.

Wu Jian did not turn around, but he sensed the presence behind him. He sidestepped as something came close to swiping at his head.

The person who had tried to gouge him from behind was lithe. It made him something of an outlier among the Baatar. While he was thin, his physique was still layered muscle. Instead of having the appearance of a steel brick, he looked like fibrous cords of meteorite ore.

“Baatar Borchu,” Wu Jian said.

“You know who I am?” asked the man with a fierce grin.

Wu Jian shrugged. “I’d be stupid not to. I’ve been told you’re the fastest hunter of your generation. Your speed was so great that even the Khan took notice and gave you the name Baatar.” In a louder voice, he said. “I know the names of all the Baatar. And I know all of you are here. Come out. I challenge you all to a duel.”

***

They came out of the woodworks. Ten members of the Heavenly White Tiger Clan stood up and began walking down toward the colosseum floor. Each one looked as different from the last, though they all had similarly strong physiques.

Töri Qiang pointed out each one.

“You see that man who looks like a mountain? The one with shoulders as broad as a warhorse? That’s Baatar Erden. He’s called Fangbreaker because he killed a Stonehide Behemoth with his bare hands. The one several paces from him is Baatar Kharuun. Don’t let his gaunt figure fool you. That man is crazy. He’s called Bloodfang for a reason.”

According to the story he had been told, Baatar Kharuun was born in a Qi Storm and his fangs were blessed by heaven. He was infamous for tearing out the throats of his victim. Whether that was true or not, the man had a fierce and crazed aura. His eyes were completely bloodshot and he looked seconds away from attacking.

On the other side of the colosseum were two people, descending toward the floor. One of them was a man with a thick-skinned, stone-like complexion, with his arms and torso covered in jagged burn scars. His skin reminded Wu Jian of cracked stone. That man was Baatar Temür, also known as Ironhide. Next to him was a barrel-chested man with long, braided hair tied with bone charms that rattled as he walked. Baatar Altan. He was called Stormroar, and his nickname made it obvious what kind of power he possessed.

“The man coming from behind you is Baatar Batuul,” Töri Qiang continued, pointing out more people. “He crushed an Earth Dragon’s skull with his bare foot and took its bones as a trophy. He’s good at close-range fighting. On his left his Baatar Chuluun. They call him Stormfang because he channels lightning through his claws. He once slayed a hundred men in battle with his lightning-infused strikes.”

The one called Baatar Batuul was broad but compact, like a coiled beast waiting to strike. His thick arms and legs looked like iron clubs, while his hands were scarred and gnarled. He kept his head shaved, which was odd for a member of the Heavenly White Tiger Clan. Baatar Chuluun was his opposite. The one nicknamed Stormfang was lean like a whipcord, with veins that pulsed faintly like sparks of lightning were gathered inside of him.

As all ten of the remaining Twelve Fangs of Khan leapt down onto the colosseum floor, Wu Jian turned to look at the one called Baatar Ganbaatar. He was tall and rangy, with legs so long they looked like the trunk of a great tree. There was a scar running down the left side of his face. It gave him a permanent sneer.

Next to him was Baatar Orghun, who was lithe of frame and had wiry muscles that made it clear his skill lay in climbing and diving. Baatar Khasar, who walked with an unsteady gait, looked kinda like a corpse with the pale ash streaks painted into his skin and sunken eyes.

Last among them was Baatar Toghrul. Töri Qiang had said this man was the closest to the Khan in strength, and the one who many thought a sure-win for the Duel of the Fangs. He was old but unbent, and his frame was broad and imposing. Long white hair worn long and braided with beads of bone gave him a wild look that, when combined with the lattice of scars across his face, made him more imposing than the others. Also, unlike everyone else, he alone remained objective and calm. He eyed Wu Jian with wariness.

“So, you wish to challenge us, do you?” Baatar Chuluun said with a snort. He crossed his arms. “Do you think you have the right to challenge us, little man?”

“I don’t know what foul tricks you pulled to kill the Khan, but I doubt you could have killed him in single combat,” added Baatar Ganbaatar.

Baatar Altan roared. “I say we just kill him and be done with it! Now that the Khan is dead, we must decide for ourselves who will be the next Khan!”

The others quickly agreed and Wu Jian almost sighed.

“You cannot,” he stated. His voice was calm, but it carried across the entire colosseum. “I have witnesses who will state that I have defeated Batu Khan in single combat.” He gestured to the elite guards and Töri Qiang, who all stepped forward. “As the one who has defeated your leader, I invoke my right to the Law of Khan.”

He who felled the Khan in open single combat before living witnesses may claim the Khan’s right. Wu Jian was the “Khan-Claiment” and could hold the Khan’s seat for three days and three nights once the Law of Khan was invoked. During that time, the Twelve Fangs of Khan could issue formal challenges, and if the claimant survived all lawful challenges, then he would be accepted as the Khan.

The Twelve Fangs of Khan were silent. A few glanced at each other, but most glared at him.

Baatar Toghrul crossed his arms and finally spoke. “So you wish us to challenge you?”

“No. That would take too long. I am challenging all of you here and now,” Wu Jian declared.

Another pause, but this time, one of anger.

“Careful, whelp. You may be strong, but the Law of Khan does not give you the right to challenge us,” Baatar Toghrul said.

“You’re going to challenge me anyway. I defeated your Khan and stole his position. Are you going to let me walk away free?” asked Wu Jian in challenge.

“…No, I am not,” Baatar Toghrul stated. “But we must challenge you on our own time. Your right is the right to be the Khan for three days and nights. Our right is the right to challenge you. We will do so on our own time--”

The man had no time to finish his sentence. Wu Jian appeared before him, but he looked different now. His body was bigger, his hair long and wild like an untamed mane. It had turned from black to white with ice blue lightning patterns streaking across the surface. More importantly, the aura blasting from him was such that almost every tiger in the stands instantly froze and several even turned on their backs to show their bellies in submission.

Wu Jian grabbed Baatar Toghrul with his now massive clawed hand. The tiger magical beast reached out the grasp the hand grabbing his face, but Wu Jian didn’t give him time to do much more. He lifted the man and slammed him into the ground with so much force that the area around his head dented. Then he did it again, and again, and again. The man tried to fight him off, but the initial attack had left Baatar Toghrul too disoriented to do anything. It wasn’t long before his body went limp.

Removing his hand from the unconscious man, he eyed the other Twelve Fangs of Khan, who all looked at him with a mixture of awe and murderous intent, like they couldn’t decide whether they wanted to worship him or kill him.

“I am Wu Jian! I have the blood of Baihu flowing through my veins, and I make the rules here! You eleven will challenge me now! Come at me all at once! I’ll beat you all to a pulp at the same time and make you submit to me!”