The Sovereign Woodcutter (The Hidden Asura)

Executioner Fang’s eyes burned with humiliation and murderous rage. To be stopped in mid-air by a bare-handed peasant in front of thirty imperial guards and an entire village was an insult that could only be washed away in blood. "Insolent fool!" Fang roared, leaping backward off the raised platform. His hand slammed against the crimson hilt of his spiritual sword. *SCHWING!* A blinding, blood-red beam of qi erupted into the evening sky, turning the air scorching hot. The pressure was so intense that the wooden platform beneath him instantly disintegrated into sawdust. "Crimson Wave: Dragon's Decapitation!" Fang swung his blade downward. A thirty-foot arc of compressed blood-red sword qi tore through the stone cobbles of the square, hurtling directly toward Kaelen's head with enough force to cleave a mountain ridge in half. The villagers screamed, covering their eyes. Commander Aaron smirked, confident that no unarmored body could survive a direct hit from a high-tier spirit weapon. Kaelen didn't draw a magic shield, nor did he channel internal energy into a defensive barrier. He simply adjusted his grip on his dull iron axe, shifting his weight onto his back foot. *CHOP.* Kaelen brought the heavy wooden handle of his axe down in a basic, unadorned vertical motion—the exact same simple swing he used to split cedar logs every morning. *BOOM!* The sheer speed of Kaelen's physical swing broke the sound barrier, compressing the surrounding atmosphere into a violent, invisible vacuum shockwave. The air pressure alone slammed into the incoming crimson sword qi like a falling meteorite. *c***k-THUNDER!* The thirty-foot blade of energy didn't just stop—it shattered into harmless red sparks that evaporated into the wind. The residual atmospheric pressure from Kaelen's simple swing continued forward, ripping through the stone square and slamming directly into Executioner Fang's chest. *THUD!* Fang’s spiritual armor cracked down the center. He was lifted off his feet, hurled fifty paces through the air, and slammed violently against the iron gates of the town square, coughing up a mouthful of dark crimson blood. Silence—deafening, absolute silence—fell over the village square. Commander Aaron stood frozen, his sword trembling in his hand. The thirty silver-armored guards backed away in terror, their eyes wide as saucers as they looked at the simple woodcutter standing calmly in the dust. Kaelen hadn't used a single spark of magic. There was no dantians activation, no aura glow, no spell chanting. It was pure, unadulterated, god-like physical muscle power. Kaelen took three calm steps toward Fang, the dull head of his iron axe scraping lightly against the shattered cobbles. *SCREECH... SCREECH...* Fang struggled to his feet, clutching his fractured ribs, his face deathly pale. "You... your physical body... You have reached the legendary God-Grade Physical Cultivation?! You aren't using qi at all... You're breaking world laws with raw physical force!" "You came to Oakhaven seeking blood," Kaelen said softly, stopping five feet from the fallen executioner. "Take your men and leave. If any of you cross the forest boundary again, I won't just stop your blades." Fang didn't dare utter another word. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his broken sword, and barked a terrified order: "RETREAT! ALL UNITS, FALL BACK IMMEDIATELY!" Within seconds, the Iron Eagle Corps mounted their warhorses and fled down the southern trade road in a cloud of panicked dust, leaving behind their broken shields and weapon fragments.