Crossover anime/manga, immediately transmigrated after death

"This thing is a bit troublesome."

Just then, a sharp sword cry came from behind.

Taking advantage of his retreat, a magic knight launched a surprise attack from the flank, his sword tip aimed straight for his back.

Zhang Yang turned around and threw a punch.

Inch of force, mountain collapse.

The core of this move is the phrase "powerful and heavy".

By lowering the center of gravity, rooting the legs firmly, and unifying the waist and stance, the weight and power of the whole body are concentrated together, and then unleashed with the force of an earthquake.

It was like a massive boulder weighing ten thousand pounds rolling down from the mountaintop, unstoppable by anything that stood in its way.

boom!

The longsword, enhanced by magic, broke apart inch by inch starting from the tip, sending fragments flying everywhere.

The punch continued, striking the knight squarely in the chest.

The knight was sent flying into the air, tumbling several times before crashing heavily to the ground, carving a furrow more than ten meters long, before disappearing into the rubble.

But the beast tamers also took the opportunity to complete the encirclement.

Seven giant tigers and a war elephant surrounded him again.

"Waaah—"

The sound of the bone flute rang out again, and the giant tigers began to slowly circle around him, looking for their next opportunity to attack.

Zhang Yang stood in the encirclement, his heart pounding.

The body yearns for battle.

The energy that had been dormant in the dantian seemed to have been awakened by the battle just now, and began to flow slowly, spreading along the meridians to the limbs and bones.

He felt that power.

It surged through his veins.

It surged through his muscles.

"First published on 705u.com - Book Club"

What he needs to do is not to control it, but to let it go.

A slight warmth emanated from his dantian, and a surge of energy rushed up his spine to the top of his head, then flowed down his arm and into his fist.

"Dududu-"

The beast tamer's bone flute suddenly became urgent, and the seven giant tigers pounced out at the same time.

Zhang Yang unleashed a punch.

Inch of Strength - Clouds and Mist.

This move was originally the gentlest of the Cunxin Fist techniques, using softness to overcome hardness, like clouds and mist, causing the opponent's force to hit empty air.

However, after being infused with magical power, Yunlan's "gentleness" turned into "dispersion," and she actually scattered her power into a vast expanse.

call!

The force of the punch transformed into a fan-shaped wave of air that spread outwards in a 360-degree arc. The seven giant tigers were struck by the wave, as if they had been hit by an invisible wall, and were sent flying backwards.

Bang bang bang!

They tumbled several times in the air, then glided for more than ten meters after landing, leaving seven long tracks on the ground.

"Damn it, where did this guy come from?" Mr. Morgan cursed, silently backing away.

Just kidding, mythical beasts are beings that require a team of great knights to defeat.

The entire city of London could not withstand the three punches of the divine beast.

These people are no match for them at all.

Zhang Yang looked down at his fist.

"Master probably scolds people, right? But that doesn't seem so bad..."

The fist technique is just the starting point; what truly drives it is the internal energy in the dantian.

That is, energy.

The martial arts of the Taixu lineage do not store Honkai energy in the body, but only mobilize Honkai energy. However, Zhang Yang's dantian at this moment does have a huge amount of energy, and... it is not replenished from the outside.

It was as if a spring was automatically gushing out from the ground.

From this perspective, Zhang Yang has actually deviated from the concept of "Inch Heart Boxing" of using the heart of a small space to influence the heart of heaven and earth, because the energy of his punch is the traditional mobilization of energy within the body.

"It's time to end this."

Zhang Yang pushed off with both legs, the ground beneath his feet exploded, and he soared into the sky.

The Yellow Dragon is in the sky.

This strike is an advancement of the Inch Heart Fist technique. The Six Forms of Inch Power are merely methods of generating force. Once all of them are mastered, one can naturally unleash their own moves.

This move imitates a move from a game, and it's quite simple: concentrate all your energy, jump three meters off the ground, and then slam all your strength into the ground!

He flipped his body in mid-air, head down and feet up, his right fist tucked into his waist. He drew out all the magical power from his dantian and channeled it into his right fist through his meridians.

Wow!

A crimson-gold light gathered on his fist, growing brighter and brighter, like a shooting star falling from the sky.

Before they could react, the magicians below looked up and saw a burning golden ball of light hurtling toward the ground at an alarming speed.

Rumble rumble rumble—

The fist slammed into the ground.

Centered on the point of impact, the ground within a radius of 100 meters seemed to be shattered by an invisible giant hand, with dirt and stones flying in all directions, forming a towering column of dust.

Those modified beasts were shaken to death by the shockwave, their bodies crashing heavily to the ground.

Some weak magicians, without even uttering a sound, were struck by the shockwave, bleeding from all seven orifices and collapsing to the ground.

Only a few of the stronger magic knights managed to steady themselves, but their faces were as pale as paper.

The smoke and dust slowly dissipated.

Zhang Yang stood at the bottom of the pit, upright, breathing steadily, his eyes clear.

He used his magical power to unleash a punch that transcended the realm of martial arts, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

Just then, a series of footsteps sounded.

Nine people stepped out from the crowd.

They were dressed in Hanfu, with their hair tied in buns, or with short hair like Zhang Yang; they were the Han Chinese martial arts instructors.

The leader was about fifty years old, with half-white hair and beard, and wearing a gray Taoist robe. Suddenly, he lifted his robe and knelt down.

"Zhang Tianyang, the divine martial arts master of the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, pays his respects to Your Majesty!"

The eight men behind him also knelt down, shouting in unison, "Greetings, Your Majesty!"

Chapter Thirty-Four: Jump down, you won't die.

An abandoned farmland on the outskirts of London.

Moonlight spilled onto the overgrown ground, and the occasional bark of a dog could be heard in the distance.

Zhang Yang stood in the center of the open space, shirtless, revealing well-defined muscles. His skin was unmarked, and his body, which had been burned to a crisp by the Crimson Emperor, was reborn without a single scar.

He took a deep breath and then began practicing his punches.

Inch-force, chaotic thunder.

The arm vibrated, and the air emitted a dense burst of sound, like dozens of firecrackers exploding at the same time.

The shadows of fists stretched out in the moonlight, so fast that their trajectories were impossible to discern.

This punch, if it landed on the battlefield, could knock a magic knight's longsword out of his hand.

But right now he's just practicing against thin air, without a target or an opponent.

He withdrew his fist and changed his stance.

Inch-force, thunderbolt.

A punch was thrown straight out, the air exploded, and a muffled thunderous sound was heard.

His aura was concentrated on his fist, as if an invisible thunderbolt was bursting out from it.

"First published on 705u.com - Book Club"

The grass in front was flattened by the force of the punch, leaving a shallow groove in the ground.

Inch-force, Rock-breaking...

He lowered his fist, stood still, and adjusted his breathing.

Blood and qi surged within my body, my heartbeat was steady and powerful, each beat like a drum resounding in my chest.

After practicing for a while, he hadn't even broken a sweat. With his improved physique, this level of practice was no longer enough to raise his body temperature significantly.

"Practicing martial arts is not as good as fighting."

Zhang Yang suddenly muttered to himself that even a random punch he threw on the battlefield was more useful than all the practice he had done that night.

It's not that martial arts training is useless, but in his current state, practicing the Inch Heart Fist technique using conventional methods would be too inefficient.

It's like holding a bomb but practicing how to peel an apple with a knife.

Thinking of this, Zhang Yang moved his body a little more, feeling the dormant power in his dantian, and began to try to communicate with it.

His spiritual power sank into his dantian, and the enormous energy seemed to sense his will, surging slightly.

Then he felt a scorching heat rising up his meridians.

Zhang Yang suddenly opened his eyes.

Just a moment ago, he vaguely saw a crimson flame.

Like a burning sun, suspended in chaos, radiating power enough to incinerate everything.

This is probably the power he usurped from the Red Emperor.

But he had no idea what it was, how to use it, or what the cost of using it was.

All he knew was that Kusanagi Godou in the original story had ten incarnations, and each incarnation could only be used once a day.

What about his?

"Forget it, there's no use in rushing." Zhang Yang shook his head, put down his fist, and put on his coat: "Hopefully it's an ability with a really awesome mechanism, like the golden sword in the original work, which can directly nullify effects and erase other people's abilities or something."

Just then, the sound of footsteps approached.

Zhang Tianyang walked over from a distance and stopped a few steps away from Zhang Yang, bowing respectfully: "Your Majesty, everything is ready."

Zhang Yang nodded and followed Zhang Tianyang back.

As they walked, Zhang Tianyang reported the situation to him.

This gathering of Han Chinese sorcerers and martial artists numbered approximately one hundred.

The group was a mixed bag; some were former members of the Five Prisons Sect, some were from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom, some were envoys of the Qing Dynasty, and a few were simply wandering martial arts heroes who were passing through London and got caught up in the chaos.

When Zhang Yang arrived at the meeting point, he saw a dense crowd of people.

Under the moonlight, they saw Zhang Yang walking over, and their expressions were all different.

Some people lowered their heads, some glanced sideways, some hesitated to speak, and some moved their lips slightly.

Their expressions were complex, a mixture of awe, unease, hesitation, and curiosity, but ultimately they all coalesced into the same sentence, squeezed from their throats:

"Greetings, Your Majesty."

Zhang Yang glanced at them and recognized a few faces.

Some of them were Qing Dynasty officials he had seen at the World's Fair, some were Luo Hao's subordinates whom he had met before in a Chinese bar, and some had short hair like those from the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom. Logically, he should know them... after all, he was a translator for the Taiping Heavenly Kingdom.

But now, when these people look at him, they all just lower their heads and respectfully call him "Your Majesty".