Martial God Asura Chapters 11-15: Chu Feng's Humiliation and the Wings Alliance's Surprising Invitation
The air in the Chu Alliance residence was thick with smug anticipation. All eyes were fixed on Chu Zhen, whose body blurred with the afterimages of countless fists—the mastered Rank 1 skill, Hundred-Armed Fists. To the gathered disciples, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. The "trash" who had languished in the outer court for five years was about to be taught a brutal, public lesson. Chu Yue, her heart clenched with worry, took a subtle step forward, only to be blocked by Chu Cheng's smug whisper about the rules of observers. She was trapped, forced to watch as her cousin walked into a trap of his own making.
Chu Zhen’s attack came with a sound like tearing cloth, his fists aimed with ruthless precision. Yet Chu Feng stood as still as an ancient pine, his expression unreadable. Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“Is he stupid? Why isn’t he dodging?” “He wants to dodge, but could he? He probably can’t even react.” The smiles of schadenfreude were already forming. But in the split second before impact, Chu Feng moved. It wasn’t a dodge. It was an eruption. A vast, intimidating aura exploded from his core, carrying with it a palpable killing intent that caused Chu Zhen’s confident assault to falter for a critical instant. In that opening, Chu Feng’s palm shot out, a blur too fast for most to follow.
Boom!
The sound was dull and final. Chu Zhen’s charge was utterly reversed. His chest caved under the force, a wave of agony robbing him of breath. Before he could even process the pain, several more precise, controlled palms struck him in rapid succession.
“Ahh!” Chu Zhen’s cry was one of pure shock as much as pain. His legs gave way, and he crumpled to his knees before collapsing onto the polished floor, utterly defeated.
Silence, profound and absolute, swallowed the hall. Jaws hung slack. The triumphant smirks had frozen and shattered. This was impossible.
“You… are at the 4th level of the Spirit realm?” The question came from Chu Wei, his voice strained, his eyes wide with an astonishment that mirrored the room’s collective disbelief.
The statement was a spark in dry tinder. Fourth level? The connection between that realm of power and the boy they had derided for years was a cognitive leap too great for many. Chu Yue herself stood transfixed, her beautiful eyes round with shock, a silent “oh” forming on her lips.
Chu Feng paid the stunned crowd no mind. His purpose here was complete. He walked calmly to the table, collected his three Saint Spirit Grasses, and turned toward the door, the very picture of casual victory.
“Stop right there!” The angry shout shattered the silence. Chu Cheng was helping his groaning brother up, his face a mask of fury. “This is an exchange between family, yet you attacked so heavily. Where is your heart?”
Chu Feng paused, a light, almost pitying smile touching his lips. “Family? When did you ever see me as family? I don’t recall you saying that before.” His tone was deceptively soft. “You were the one who said fists and kicks have no eyes, that injuries cannot be complained about. What are you doing now? Can’t take the loss?”
“I can’t take the loss? You intentionally heavily attacked!” Chu Zhen spat out through gritted teeth, the humiliation burning worse than his wounds. He knew Chu Feng’s first strike had already decided the fight; the subsequent blows were pure, deliberate degradation.
“I just entered the 4th level,” Chu Feng explained with mock innocence. “I don’t understand my strength that well. Your skill seemed so formidable, so naturally I didn’t dare hold back. I used my full strength to answer your attack.” He let his gaze sweep over Chu Zhen’s pathetic form. “But who would have thought you were just a paper tiger, so weak you couldn’t even take one hit. I overestimated you.”
Chu Zhen’s face turned from pale to ashen. He was puffing like a bellows, so enraged he seemed on the verge of vomiting blood. He had been defeated by the “garbage” and then rhetorically flayed in front of everyone. The rules he himself had championed now caged him in silence.
Another Chu family youth stepped forward, emboldened by collective indignation. “Chu Feng, don’t be too arrogant! If you have the guts, let’s go right now.”
“Oh? Another duel?” Chu Feng’s smile didn’t waver. He simply stretched out his hand. “Fine. Bet a Saint Spirit Grass. Do you dare?”
The challenger’s bravado evaporated. He glared but said nothing, retreating a step. The Saint Spirit Grass was his lifeline for cultivation; he would not risk it.
Chu Feng’s gaze swept across the hall, meeting lowered eyes and averted glances. “What’s wrong? If there’s anyone else, come forward. Just don’t mind parting with your Saint Spirit Grass.” The silence was his answer. They feared not him, but the cost of the wager.
“Chu Feng, don’t be excessive,” Chu Wei finally intoned, his authority seeming hollow.
“What’s this, Chu Wei? You want to go as well?” Chu Feng tilted his head. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re five years older than me. If you don’t mind people saying you’re bullying the young, I don’t mind. After all, if I lose, I lose no face. If I win, I earn big. Right?”
Chu Wei’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white, but he said nothing more. The age difference was a chain he could not break. To attack would be to admit his own generation’s failure.
A laugh then echoed in the hall—clear, bright, and utterly devoid of warmth. It was Chu Feng’s laugh, a sound of pure, unadulterated catharsis. “I’ll give everyone here two phrases before I leave,” he announced, his voice carrying to every corner. “The first is ‘thinking that you are infallible.’ The second is ‘self-ridicule.’ As for the meanings, you can comprehend them yourselves.”
With that, he pushed the door open and stepped into the twilight, leaving behind a residence choked with awkward silence and shattered pride. The hunters had become the hunted, the mockers had been mocked. And at the center of it all was the terrifying, inexplicable fact: Chu Feng, the eternal trash, was at the 4th level of the Spirit realm.
The cool evening air felt like freedom. For the first time in his life, Chu Feng had not just endured their bullying but had turned it back on them with interest. The weight of years of humiliation seemed to lift from his shoulders with each step.
“Chu Feng!” The sweet, familiar call came from behind. He turned to see Chu Yue running toward him, her face alight with a mixture of excitement and relief.
She reached him and playfully punched his chest. “You’re quite good! I was wondering why you were so calm in the outer court. Now, after a day, you’ve already caught up to me!”
Chu Feng shook his head with a hint of genuine embarrassment. “Chu Yue, I’ve given you trouble today. It seems your Chu Alliance gathering has ended unhappily.”
“Don’t worry about that. Giving them a lesson is good, or else they’d bully you all day.” Her expression then turned earnest. “Chu Feng, let’s go together in the Spiritual Medicine Hunt tomorrow! Those things are very hard to catch alone.”
“You know my relationship with them. Even if I was willing, they wouldn’t be,” he replied pragmatically.
“Leave that to me.” Her persistence was unwavering. She pressed another bamboo slip into his hand, this one marking the next day’s gathering point. “Just come find us here tomorrow. Okay?”
Unable to refuse her sincere kindness, Chu Feng nodded. “Fine.”
Satisfied, Chu Yue bounced back toward the residence, her heart buoyant with hope. Perhaps Chu Feng’s display of strength would be the catalyst to finally unite the Chu family without prejudice. But her hope was short-lived. As she arrived, she found the members already dispersing in anger.
Chu Cheng and Chu Zhen shot her venomous glares before stomping away without a word. Chu Wei remained, his face stern.
“Chu Yue, it’s not that I want to say it, but today you sided too much with that Chu Feng,” he reprimanded. “Now look. He took two Saint Spirit Grasses and insulted us all. Everyone left in anger. Are you happy now?”
“Chu Wei, just view it as my fault. But Chu Feng is still part of our family,” she pleaded. “You saw his strength. He isn’t trash. Our alliance needs people. Why not let him join?”
Chu Wei’s expression shifted through several emotions. Finally, he sighed, a theatrical sound of reluctant concession. “Ah, I can’t do anything about you. Fine. I’ll give him another chance. Bring him tomorrow.”
Joy exploded in Chu Yue’s heart. “That’s great! You’re the best!” She watched him walk away, completely missing the sinister smile that curled his lips the moment his back was turned.
A new disciple from the alliance approached her then, his voice gossipy. “Senior Chu Yue, that Chu Feng concealed himself quite deeply. He must have been aiming for first in the disciple exam.”
The comment sparked a realization in Chu Yue. “That’s right… I wonder if he got it…”
“Oh, he didn’t,” the young man said with certainty. “A real fierce character appeared this year. One rank 4 Fierce Beast, nine rank 3s, thirty rank 2s—all slaughtered in a blink. By the time the other geniuses arrived, only corpses remained. That person took the reward and vanished without a trace. No one knows who it was.”
Chu Yue’s breath caught. At least the 5th level of the Spirit realm. The inner court had gained a monstrous new talent. Her curiosity about this mysterious “fierce character” was immediately overshadowed by a more urgent alarm. She suddenly remembered the direction Chu Cheng and Chu Zhen had taken. It was the same path as Chu Feng.
“Oh no.”
Chu Feng walked without haste, his senses extended. The inner court grounds grew quiet and desolate. When he reached a suitably isolated spot, he stopped.
“Don’t be so sneaky. Come out.” His voice was calm, directed at a pool of shadows.
“You are quite alert. It seems I’ve really underestimated you.” Chu Cheng stepped out, followed by a still-seething Chu Zhen. The older brother’s tone dripped with false confidence. “Chu Feng, I’ll give you a chance. Hand over the three Saint Spirit Grasses, kneel in front of my brother, kowtow and apologize. Then perhaps I’ll forgive you.”
“You two want to rob me?” “So what if we do?” “You need strength to rob.” “Strength?” Chu Cheng sneered. “I’ll show you right now what strength is.”
His body became a blur, propelled by the wind at his back. His hand formed a claw aimed to crush Chu Feng’s throat. His speed and power were indeed several tiers above Chu Zhen’s, a testament to his experience in the 4th level.
But his opponent was the true “fierce character” of the underground palace.
Whoosh! Chu Feng sidestepped with effortless grace. In the same motion, his leg swept out in a low, devastating arc. Chu Cheng’s eyes widened; he crossed his arms in a desperate block.
Bang! The impact echoed. Chu Cheng staggered back, arms numb, his confidence cracking. “You know your stuff,” he grunted, “but brute strength is useless. Experience the might of martial skills!”
Papapapa! He struck several acupuncture points on his own body. “Haa!” With a roar, his muscles bulged, his skin tinted purple with prominent veins—the Body of Steel, a strengthening skill.
“Now, Chu Feng, you can kneel and beg for forgiveness, or—” he began, but Chu Feng was already moving.
He didn’t finish. Chu Feng vanished and reappeared directly in front of him, a fist already enlarging in his vision. Scorning the transformation, Chu Cheng met it with his own steel-hardened fist.
Clang! The sound was metallic, a clash of iron. This time, Chu Cheng was the one forced back, his fist screaming with pain. Dread coiled in his gut. How is his body stronger than my strengthened skill?
Before he could recalibrate, Chu Feng struck again—a palm thrust to the chest. Chu Cheng went to grab the wrist, but his hand closed on empty air. The attacking palm had been an illusion.
Thump! “Ah!” The real palm, devastatingly powerful, landed squarely. Chu Cheng flew back over ten meters, crashing down and vomiting a mouthful of bright blood.
Chu Zhen stood paralyzed, his worldview crumbling. His invincible elder brother… defeated by the useless Chu Feng?
“Brother!” He scrambled to help Chu Cheng up, intent only on flight.
“No need to leave so quickly.” Chu Feng’s voice was suddenly behind them. He had moved without a sound, blocking their path.
“Chu Feng, what are you doing?” Chu Zhen tried to sound firm, but fear leaked through.
“I’m not planning much. Take out everything on you, kneel and beg for forgiveness. Then I’ll let you go.” Chu Feng’s smile was small and cold, chilling them to the bone.
“Chu Feng, don’t be excessive!” Chu Cheng rasped.
“Excessive?” Chu Feng’s smile vanished, replaced by a glacial coldness. “You call me garbage. You humiliate me in public. You stalk me to rob and beat me. And I’m excessive?” He took a step closer, his presence oppressive. “I know you don’t see me as family. That’s fine. I’ve never seen you as family either. Insult me, fine. But treating Chu Yue like you did is intolerable. She is family to me. One of the few people I want to protect.”
Bang! Bang! Two sharp cracks rang out as his palms struck their faces, sending them sprawling. He kicked Chu Cheng in the chest. “How’s your mouth now? Weren’t you full of logic? Weren’t you so threatening? Talk! Say… ‘please forgive me.’” He punctuated his words with two more stinging slaps.
Chu Cheng’s cheeks flushed crimson, blood trickling from his mouth. “For me to beg trash like you? You wish!” he snarled, unyielding.
Chu Feng’s response was a storm of slaps, a relentless barrage that turned Chu Cheng’s head into a swollen, pulpy mess. “Chu Feng!” Chu Zhen finally lunged in a futile burst of fury. Chu Feng didn’t even look at him; a casual wave of his sleeve sent the younger brother crashing down, utterly powerless.
“Chu Feng, kill me if you dare!” Chu Cheng bellowed, a last ditch of defiance.
“You think I don’t?” Chu Feng’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper. He plucked a dagger from Chu Cheng’s waist, pressing the tip against his dantian—the source of his cultivation. “I will count to one. If you don’t beg for forgiveness, I’ll destroy this. You’ll never cultivate again.”
The color drained from Chu Cheng’s face. All defiance evaporated, replaced by primal, gut-wrenching terror. This wasn’t the Chu Feng he knew. This was someone capable of anything.
“One.” Chu Feng said it faintly. The dagger began its descent.
“I WAS WRONG!!” The scream tore from Chu Cheng’s throat, hysterical and broken. “I was wrong, Chu Feng, I was wrong! Please forgive me! Please… don’t destroy my cultivation! Please don’t!” He sobbed openly, his body trembling violently. A dark, foul-smelling puddle spread beneath him.
Chu Feng stopped the dagger, a flicker of cold satisfaction in his eyes. He tossed the blade aside, efficiently searched both brothers, and retrieved five low-quality Ground Spirit Grasses. He leaned down, patting Chu Cheng’s swollen cheek. “Look at yourself. Who is the actual garbage? You should know that clearly in your heart now.”
His laughter, light and free, trailed behind him as he walked away, leaving the broken brothers in the dark.
From another shadow, Chu Yue emerged, her face a canvas of utter astonishment. The scene she had witnessed rewrote every memory she had of her gentle, smiling cousin. The relentless precision, the controlled fury, the absolute dominance. “Chu Feng,” she whispered to the night, “what kind of person are you? What kind of strength do you have?”
She closed her eyes, seeing the boy who bore mockery with a smile, who never fought back. “Perhaps we were wrong,” she murmured, a new understanding dawning. “Perhaps this is the real you. You don’t need the protection of others… because you are strong enough to protect others.”
Back in his residence, Chu Feng laid out his spoils: three Saint Spirit Grasses and five Ground Spirit Grasses. The lesson was delivered, and the price was paid. He felt a profound refreshment. ‘Against an evil person, you need a grindstone for an evil person,’ he mused. Sometimes, reason was only heard through the language of fists.
He then took out the letter from his elder brother, Chu Guyu. The familiar handwriting spoke of the upcoming family gathering, the retirement of the family head, and their father Chu Yuan’s candidacy for the position. “I hope you can return… and cheer for father along with me.”
Chu Feng understood the subtext. The family competition was a showcase of the younger generation’s potential, directly influencing the elders’ standing. His brother’ stellar achievements had lifted their father this far. Now, it was his turn. He took up a brush and wrote his reply: he would attend. The time to prove himself, to show that both of Chu Yuan’s sons were exceptional, had arrived.
After refining all eight spiritual herbs, he felt his dantian grow fuller, but the road to the next breakthrough was long—perhaps twenty more Saint Spirit Grasses. All his hopes were pinned on the Spiritual Medicine Hunt.
Dawn found a massive plaza north of the Azure Dragon School teeming with over ten thousand disciples. Chu Feng, with one bag of food and one empty bag for hoped-for spoils, searched the crowd for Chu Yue.
“Chu Feng, here!” She waved, her equipment simple—just a waist purse. She explained the alliance’s system: carriers, blockers, and hunters like her, with spoils divided by contribution. It was the power of the group. She led him to the Chu Alliance gathering point.
The atmosphere curdled the moment they arrived. Chu Cheng was absent, his face too damaged to show. Chu Zhen was there, a shell of his former self, head bowed in depression. The other non-family members nodded respectfully at Chu Feng, acknowledging the strength he’d shown.
Chu Yue, putting on a brave face, clapped. “Everyone, welcome Chu Feng!”
The response was a wall of icy silence from the Chu family disciples. Then Chu Wei spoke, his voice loud and dripping with contempt, meant for the entire plaza to hear. “Chu Yue, what are you doing? You brought an outsider like him to our Chu Alliance? Hurry up and get him lost!”
“That’s right! The Chu Alliance does not welcome him! Get lost!” others chimed in, creating a spectacle.
Chu Feng’s eyes narrowed. This was no rejection; this was a public execution of his dignity, a trap Chu Yue had unwittingly led him into.
“Chu Wei, what are you doing? Didn’t you say yesterday—” Chu Yue protested, panic rising.
“Chu Yue, shut up!” Chu Wei cut her off. “What I say goes. I can accept anyone, but absolutely not Chu Feng.”
The betrayal was complete. Chu Yue, her face pale with anger and shame, turned to Chu Feng. “I… I’ll back out too.”
“You have no say,” Chu Wei coldly smiled. “Unless you want to leave the Chu family itself, you cannot leave the Chu Alliance.”
Chu Yue was trapped, her kindness used as a weapon. She looked at Chu Feng, tears of frustration welling. “Chu Feng, I…”
“No need to explain,” Chu Feng said, his voice unnervingly calm. He looked at Chu Wei and the others, his gaze imprinting each of their faces into his memory. “Your Chu Alliance isn’t accepting me? Fine. That’s fine. Remember what you said today. I guarantee that one day, I will make you regret everything you’ve done.”
His declaration was met with scornful laughter. “Hahaha! What a joke! You think you’re some big shot?” “Shameless!”
Their derision was cut short by a new, drawling voice. “This place is quite lively.”
All heads turned. Two young men, identical twins, ambled over. Their purple robes were stained and shiny with grime. They chewed noisily on sugar cane, a picture of slovenly disregard. But the badge on their chests silenced all mockery: a pair of wings. The symbol of the Wings Alliance, the strongest power in the inner court.
A ripple of awe passed through the crowd. “The Dragon and Tiger brothers! Bai Long and Bai Hu!” Whispers spread. Sixteen years old, in the 6th level of the Spirit realm for a year already. Legendary geniuses. Chu Yue whispered their credentials to Chu Feng, her expression solemn. Chu Feng reevaluated them; they were a year ahead of his own brother’s legendary pace.
The brothers sauntered directly toward the Chu Alliance group. Panic seized Chu Wei and the others. Had they offended these monsters? But the brothers’ eyes slid past them, landing squarely on Chu Feng.
The Chu family disciples almost cheered internally. He offended the Dragon and Tiger brothers! He’s finished!
Bai Long looked Chu Feng up and down. “You are Chu Feng?” “Problem?” Chu Feng replied, his calm unbroken. Bai Hu raised an eyebrow at the tone, also scrutinizing him.
Chu Wei barely contained his glee. This was the moment. The public comeuppance.
Then Bai Long spoke again, his voice casual, as if offering a stick of sugar cane. “Chu Feng. Interested in joining the Wings Alliance?”
The words hung in the air. The scornful smiles on the Chu family faces froze, then shattered into fragments of pure, undiluted shock. The plaza around them seemed to fall away. The legendary Wings Alliance, the pinnacle that every inner court disciple dreamed of, was extending an invitation… to the boy they had just publicly denounced and exiled. In that moment, the first seeds of the regret Chu Feng had promised were sown, deep in the stunned, disbelieving silence.