Chapter Forty-One: Iron Fist

Seeing that there was no way to dodge, Luke took a deep breath, crossing his arms tightly to shield his head, hoping that Gu Chongyan’s defensive magic and his own tough skin could withstand the terrifying force of the oncoming blade and sword.

At that moment, two dazzling red beams shot down from above, striking the blade and sword with unerring precision.

“Disarm!”

The samurai Murakami and the gambler wielding the sword both felt a burning sensation in their palms, and an irresistible force jarred their weapons from their hands.

Though Gu Chongyan was mainly focused on disrupting the mass of ninjas, he had not neglected to keep an eye on the group of four. At this critical juncture, he cast Disarm, forcing the weapons from the hands of the two attackers.

However, centuries of battle experience allowed the pair to recover quickly. Even without weapons, their hand-to-hand combat abilities were still formidable.

One charged forward like a wild stallion, closing the distance to Luke in an instant, his left foot lunging ahead as his right fist thundered from his waist.

The other, ghostlike and nimble, floated forward, soaring like a bird, his palms striking out in rapid succession, creating a flurry of fierce shadows reminiscent of a scene from a martial arts film.

Fortunately, this brief delay gave Luke enough time to react. He drew a deep breath, and his fists—each the size of a cooking pot—lashed out in a flurry to meet the assault.

At the same time, two powerful gusts swept in from behind him: Matt and the Old Man with the Cane had arrived just in time, their white canes weaving heavy afterimages as they intercepted the gambler and Murakami before they could reach Luke.

In an instant, what had been a one-on-one duel between Luke and Alexandra erupted into a 3v3 skirmish, both sides evenly matched, neither able to gain the upper hand.

Yet this balance was fleeting.

With the arrival of the Five Fingers of the Hand, the collapse of the defensive line was inevitable; Luke could not withstand the endless tide of ninjas surging onto Liberty Island.

Nor was that all. With Matt—the human radar—lost, Jessica’s remarkable agility could not compensate for the length of the coastline, and the embattled perimeter at the base of the Statue of Liberty began shrinking at a pace visible to the naked eye.

As the defensive line crumbled, the pressure on Gu Chongyan mounted. His expression grew grave. After a moment’s hesitation, he suddenly drew four or five thumb-sized glass vials from his robes.

A series of sharp cracks split the air as the vials burst. Dark green gas billowed upward, swirling in midair.

Like a conductor at a symphony, Gu Chongyan flourished his wand, directing the thick poisonous mists to coil and twist, writhing like a newly awakened giant serpent, roaring as it swept toward the ninja horde.

Where the poison passed, the sounds of burning and agony echoed relentlessly. Wherever the ninjas’ skin met the toxic cloud, it instantly festered and reeked as if scorched by fire; crimson blood mingled with yellow pus, claiming life after life.

The spread of the toxic fog steadied the faltering defensive line once more.

However, while the poison could halt the ordinary ninjas, it was powerless against Madame Gao and Sowanda.

An invisible current of air shielded them, holding the green miasma at bay three feet from their bodies. Flanking from left and right, they charged up Liberty Island, making straight for Gu Chongyan at the summit.

Jessica tried to intercept them, but alone, she could only stall Sowanda. She could only watch as Madame Gao’s slight form leapt nimbly up the statue like a monkey, heading straight for Gu Chongyan.

Seeing Madame Gao closing in, Gu Chongyan frowned—not out of fear. Despite four centuries of cultivated chi making her a formidable foe, she was not necessarily a match for him now that his magic had returned.

Yet with at least half the ninja force still in the fight, if he became distracted by a duel, the ninjas massed outside Liberty Island would immediately surge forward. At that point, it was doubtful whether Matt and the others could hold the line.

But now, with Madame Gao already atop the statue, only a step from the torch, whether or not to divide his attention was no longer his decision to make.

He raised his wand and aimed at Madame Gao, preparing to cast a spell.

A thunderous roar split the air. From the thick fog, a golden dragon’s shadow burst forth, tearing through the poisonous mists, its maw wide in a furious charge at Madame Gao.

“Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms?!”

“Immortal Iron Fist?!”

Both Gu Chongyan and Madame Gao exclaimed in shock at the sight.

On the battlefield, a ragged, unkempt vagrant appeared, his beard wild, looking as though he hadn’t bathed in at least a month.

Yet his stride was steady and sure, his feet tracing the Seven Stars. With a series of heavy steps, he stormed up the Statue of Liberty, and with a mighty punch like a sledgehammer, he struck at Madame Gao.

Faced with this terrifying attack, Madame Gao’s expression changed. Forgetting Gu Chongyan, she raised her arms, crossing them before her and employing a technique reminiscent of Tai Chi to deflect the blow, summoning her inner energy to meet the assault.

In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged a flurry of blows, fists and feet crashing together in a storm of explosive force. The pounding detonations and gusting winds left deep marks on the solid bronze statue.

Now Gu Chongyan realized that the golden dragon shadow was no “Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms” but rather the power of the Immortal Dragon.

Compared to what he’d sensed at the Dragon Bones, or beneath the Midtown Financial Company’s seal, this power was pitifully weak. He hadn’t immediately made the connection.

Now it was clear: this vagrant must be Danny Rand, the “naive fool,” the “weakest Iron Fist in history,” and erstwhile member of the Defenders.

This heir to the Rand fortune, missing for more than a decade, evidently had yet to reclaim his company, explaining his current destitute state.

In terms of power, Danny was inferior to Madame Gao. Whether it was his mastery of chi, his combat technique, or experience, he was far outmatched.

Fortunately, the unique quality of the Immortal Dragon’s power enabled him to entangle Madame Gao for a time.

The sudden appearance of Iron Fist unintentionally eased Gu Chongyan’s predicament.

Looking to the ninja army stymied by the toxic fog, Gu Chongyan drew a deep breath, a keen light flashing in his eyes.

Since there was nothing more to worry about, it was time to deal with this rabble.

He raised his wand, aiming it at the ninja horde, and summoned the last of his magical power.

“Fiery Blaze!”

With a mighty shout, Gu Chongyan swung his wand. Scorching flames surged along its length, and, following its motion, a phoenix reborn in fire roared forth.