Douluo Continent: My name is Yang Jian, and I achieved sainthood through my physical body

Someone took the lead and rushed forward.

He unleashed his martial spirit and punched Yang Jian in the face.

The fist whistled through the air, carrying fluctuations of soul power.

A Great Soul Master level—this level is no different from a three-year-old child in front of Yang Jian.

Then two more people rushed in from the side, one kicking and the other headbutting, their movements wide and chaotic, like street thugs fighting.

Yang Jian clicked his tongue.

With a flick of his right hand, a three-pointed, double-edged sword appeared in his palm.

The blade did not lengthen, maintaining its shape of about three meters.

He gripped the hilt of his sword and swept a burst of sword energy forward.

The blade energy was arc-shaped and silvery-white, sweeping from one end of the hall to the other at a speed so fast it was almost invisible to the naked eye.

The air was torn apart, emitting a sharp whistling sound.

Those who were rushing towards Yang Jian stopped in their tracks.

They looked down at their bodies and saw a thin red line emerge from their waists. Then the red line widened and blood gushed out from it.

The upper body and lower body are separated.

Most people died on the spot, without even having time to scream.

Only a small number of people with decent cultivation levels did not die immediately.

They fell to the ground, uttering various cries of pain; some called for their mothers, some cried for help, and some were unable to speak at all.

Blood flowed on the ground, staining the red carpet dark brown.

The air was thick with the pungent smell of blood, mixed with the stench of alcohol and sweat, making one want to vomit.

Those who didn't rush forward were so frightened that they collapsed to the ground, their legs went weak, and they lost control of their bladders.

Yang Jian sheathed his three-pointed double-edged sword, not even glancing at the corpse on the ground, and carried Miles out of the Gengxin City Martial Soul Branch Hall.

The two guards at the gate were dumbfounded.

They stared blankly at Miles, who lay in Yang Jian's hand like a dead dog.

Miles is a Contra, their boss, and the strongest in Gengxin City, but now he's been beaten unconscious and dragged away like a bag of trash.

The two guards dared not speak, dared not step forward, and dared not even breathe loudly.

If Miles can't handle it, what are they?

They were just level twenty-something Great Soul Masters, not even enough to fill someone's teeth.

Moreover, Yang Jian arrived with an Elder's Token, which is almost the highest-level token in the Spirit Hall.

Even if they could defeat Yang Jian.

It's impossible for them to offend someone who holds the Elder's Decree for Miles' sake.

And to be honest, they felt quite pleased to see Miles in such a miserable state.

Miles' reputation in Gengxin City is completely ruined. He oppresses ordinary people, withholds his subordinates' wages, embezzles and accepts bribes, and does all sorts of evil.

If he weren't a bishop of the Spirit Hall, and possessed the strength of a Soul Douluo, he would probably have been killed long ago.

……

Yang Jian dragged Miles along the streets of Gengxin City.

Miles' body rubbed against the ground, his clothes torn, his skin bleeding, dust and gravel embedded in his wounds. He would occasionally let out a low groan before passing out again.

This scene attracted the attention of many passersby.

The streets of Gengxin City were narrow to begin with, and there were many pedestrians. It was hard for Yang Jian to not attract attention when he was dragging someone along.

People stopped in their tracks; some stood by the roadside to watch, some followed behind, and some peered out of second-floor windows.

The crowd grew larger and larger, like a long tail following behind Yang Jian.

Miles's bishop's robes were too eye-catching.

The clothes he was wearing were the standard robes of the Spirit Hall bishops, deep red with gold trim, and the Spirit Hall emblem embroidered on the chest.

In Gengxin City, this outfit is a symbol of power; everyone recognizes it.

"That's Miles! Miles got beaten up!"

"My God, Miles is a bishop of the Spirit Hall, who would dare to hit him?"

"Who is that boy? How dare he do this?"

"Well done! That bastard deserved to be beaten a long time ago!"

The street erupted in excitement, with murmurs of shock, curiosity, schadenfreude, and applause filling the air.

Yang Jian ignored the onlookers and walked straight toward the Blacksmiths' Association.

The Blacksmiths' Association is located in the west of the city. It is a large courtyard with blue bricks and gray tiles, and its area is even larger than that of the Martial Soul Branch Hall.

Two stone pillars stood at the entrance, each topped with an iron hammer, and a red ribbon was tied to the hammer.

The gate was black, and a plaque hung above the gate with four large characters written on it.

Blacksmiths' Association.

Yang Jian walked to the door, where a burly man stood, shirtless, muscular, with a hammer tattooed on his chest.

He saw the person Yang Jian was dragging in his arms, and his eyes widened like copper bells.

"I want to see the building taller," Yang Jian said.

The burly man glanced at Yang Jian, then at the half-dead, blood-covered man in his hand, and swallowed hard.

He recognized the clothes; they were the clothes of the bishop of the Spirit Hall.

He nodded subconsciously, then turned and ran into the yard.

"President! President! Someone is looking for you!"

His voice was loud and urgent, as if someone was chasing him.

Soon, a group of people came out of the courtyard.

The leader was an old man, short and stout, with a round face, a big nose, and eyes that were narrowed into slits. He had a kind and honest smile on his lips, a result of years of forging iron.

He was wearing a gray short-sleeved shirt with a leather apron hanging around his neck. His hands were covered in calluses, and black iron filings were embedded in his fingernails.

Lou Gao, president of the Blacksmiths' Association, a master craftsman, and the most prestigious person in Gengxin City.

Behind him followed a dozen burly men, some shirtless, some wearing leather aprons, and some carrying iron hammers. Each of them was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with bulging muscles, and they stood there like a human wall.

Lou Gao immediately saw Miles being dragged by Yang Jian, his face filled with disbelief.

His small eyes widened slightly, his mouth opened a little, and the smile on his face froze.

Miles, the bishop who had oppressed their blacksmiths' association for over a decade, withheld metal prices, and constantly picked fights, was now being dragged on the ground like a dead dog, covered in blood and unconscious.

Lou Gao looked up at Yang Jian.

He sized up the young man, looking at his youthful face, his calm eyes, and his composed demeanor. He was very young, looking to be under twenty, but he had a strong presence. He stood there calmly and composedly, neither arrogant nor humble.

A large crowd of onlookers followed behind him, a dense mass that blocked the entire street.

Lou Gao turned to the side and gestured for him to enter.

"Young master, please come in."

Yang Jian didn't stand on ceremony and dragged Miles into the Blacksmiths' Guild.

Lou Gao followed behind and closed the gate.

Chapter 111 Long Live the Spirit Hall!

Once the door was closed, the noise outside was shut out.

The courtyard was quiet, with only the slight rustling of the wind through the iron frame.

Lou Gao walked up to Yang Jian, looked him over again, and then asked, "Young master, what brings you here? And what's going on with Miles?"

His tone was polite, but tinged with wariness.

He looked at Miles, who was half-dead in Yang Jian's hands, and had many questions in his mind.

Who is this boy?

Why fight Miles?

Why did you come to find him?

Yang Jian casually tossed Miles to the ground, clapped his hands, and spoke in a flat tone.

“I come from the Spirit Hall. I heard about what Miles did in Gengxin City, so I came to deal with it.”

Lou Gao's pupils contracted slightly.

From the Spirit Hall, deal with Miles.

He drew a conclusion from Yang Jian's words.

This young man likely holds a very high position within the Spirit Hall.

An ordinary person couldn't possibly deal with a branch bishop, nor was they qualified to do so; it had to be someone close to the Pope, or at least a confidant of some elder.

Lou Gao pondered for a moment, then his gaze fell on Miles's miserable appearance.

The bishop's deep red robes were so faded they were unrecognizable, covered in dust and bloodstains. Miles's face was swollen like a pig's head, blood flowing from his mouth and nose, and he occasionally let out a weak groan.

Lou Gao swallowed hard, thinking that since Miles had been beaten like this, the strength of the boy in front of him was probably not to be underestimated.

He didn't understand why a boy who looked to be under twenty could have done this to Miles, who was at the Contra level, but he didn't ask.

Some things are better left unasked.

"Since you came to Gengxin City to deal with Miles, why have you brought him here to me? What is the meaning of this?" Lou Gao asked.

Yang Jian got straight to the point.