Mi Yong had never imagined that the combat arts he was so proud of couldn’t even last a brief moment against the Zhao clan’s warriors, that the opponents’ simple but powerful attacks would beat him down in just a couple of moves. Up until his collapse, he still couldn’t believe he had suffered a crushing defeat, just like that.

As one of the military’s closely-observed rising elites, Mi Yong had the right to learn the imperial family’s secret arts. Despite having learned only the abridged version, it still lent him considerable power. Mi Yong held multiple records of defeating opponents of the same level during internal military drills, and his potential was well-recognized by the higher-ups.

He simply couldn’t figure out how he had lost to such crude and boorish techniques. The Zhao clan’s arts were simple, violent, and barbaric, with neither beauty nor complexity to speak of. It consisted of little more than punches and kicks, but with sufficient power, speed, and ruthlessness.

At first, Mi Yong had planned to defeat all the Zhao clan generals in his anger, and then move on to challenging...