Old Shou intended to delay the monks of the Qing Liang Temple here.
However, Master Mingguan's attack was extraordinary.
A Buddhist Martial King of the Twelfth Realm, in the entire Divine Land, could be considered as the second most powerful Buddhist master, second only to the Sick Maha, Reverend Mingjue. He was even more powerful than the abbot of the Huayan Temple and the Ksitigarbha Monastery.
If the Devil Monk Mingfa did not use the ultimate killing move of dying together with the enemy, he would not be a match for Master Mingguan.
At this moment, the abbot of the first Buddhist temple in the vast land of Shenzhou was displaying the Mahayana Bodhi Divine Fist of the Qingliang Temple. His heart was as clear as a mirror, untainted by dust, and his wisdom was perfect as if he had attained Bodhi.
It was difficult for the enemy to detect his thoughts, but at the same time, he could see the subtle changes of the opponent in his heart.
Old Shou had mastered the Red Moon Heavenly Broken Claw and the Taiyin Sun-Breaking Claw. His skills were profound, but he could not gain an advantage in front of Master Mingguan.
Master Mingguan did not go too far. He did not take the initiative to attack. He only displayed the essence of Buddhist martial arts. The glazed Buddha's light covered the world, forcing Old Shou to retreat.
The others of the Qing Liang Temple took the opportunity to retreat.
One of the old monks was holding a boy of about two or three years old.
The boy's eyes were closed, as if he was in a deep sleep.
They crossed the wide river downstream, and then rushed to the mountains on the other side, crossing over the mountains to get ready to leave.
At this moment, the mountain suddenly lit up with Buddha's light.
They were of the same origin as the monks who had evacuated. They were all direct disciples of the Qing Liang Temple's Buddhism and Martial Arts.
However, at this moment, they were fighting among themselves.
The Buddha's light manifested the image of an eight-armed Arhat, mighty and magnificent. Eight Buddhist staffs attacked the monks of the Qing Liang Temple from all directions.
The old monk who was holding the boy chanted softly, "Mingjing, you are really stubborn."
The person who blocked the monks of the Qing Liang Temple was naturally Elder Mingjing.
At this moment, facing his former fellow disciples, he was not anxious. "It's the same for everyone. Everyone has their own stubbornness."
Beside the old monk, a middle-aged monk who was almost more than two meters tall, wearing a kasaya, shouted angrily, "Evil creature, how dare you!"
The middle-aged monk also manifested the image of an Arhat and immediately fought with Elder Mingjing.
Elder Mingjing had been injured by the Sword Pavilion's Xie Xingmang in Shu Province.
On the way back to the headquarters of the Devil religion from Shu Province, they had fought many enemies and had no time to recuperate. As a result, Elder Mingjing's injuries had not fully healed.
Facing the number one expert of the Qingliang Temple's middle generation, the Head of the Arhat Hall, Zen Master Zhi Chen, Elder Mingjing could not gain the upper hand.
The two Arhats collided. The one who was forced to retreat was Elder Mingjing.
Zen Master Zhichen stepped forward.
His already tall body gave off an oppressive feeling, as if he was a mountain.
"This Penniless Monk will clean up the sect today!"
He waved his staff, and the huge Arhat image did the same.
Elder Mingjing, who was injured, did not dare to take the attack head-on. The Buddhist staff in her hand became gentle, deflecting the other party's attack to the side.
Amidst the deafening sound, a mountain peak on the banks of the river was crushed by Zen Master Zhichen's staff.
Zen Master Zhi Chen did not stop his attacks and struck out with his staff continuously.
Elder Mingjing could only back down.
"Martial Nephew Zhichen, don't get caught up in the battle. We have to leave this place as soon as possible according to the abbot's orders. If we delay any longer, I'm afraid more fiends will come looking for us," the old monk carrying the child said.
Although Zen Master Zhichen was indignant, he suppressed the anger in his heart. After forcing Elder Mingjing back again, he planned to leave with the others.
However, at that moment, everyone's vision blurred.
Upon closer inspection, a young man with disheveled hair had appeared out of thin air in the crowd.
The young man smiled innocently and innocently. "Xiaoyuan and all of you have to stay. You can't leave."
The monks of Qingliang Temple were alarmed.
"Demon bastard?" Zen Master Zhichen waved his staff and struck down at the young man's head.
The moment he attacked, Abbot Mingguan's anxious shout came from afar, "Show mercy!"
Zen Master Zhichen was alarmed.
He felt that the abbot's words were not directed at him, but at the young man before him.
Then, he suddenly thought of someone.
However, just as he thought of that, the young man before him stretched out his hand.
His action was simple and unadorned.
It was a straight punch.
He did not even conjure his Martial Will.
It was an ordinary punch but it penetrated Zen Master Zhichen's Arhat Form.
Golden light flashed and the Arhat that was dozens of feet tall froze on the spot.
There was a hole in his abdomen that pierced through his front and back.
The young man's fist was like an indestructible spear. The terrifying sharpness was concentrated at the tip of the spear, piercing through the Arhat Form before stabbing towards Zen Master Zhichen.
Zen Master Zhichen turned pale with fright and almost instinctively blocked with his staff in front of his chest.
However, the heavy staff made of refined gold essence was as weak as a withered tree branch at that moment, breaking at a single touch.
The young man's fist effortlessly broke the staff and struck Zen Master Zhichen's chest.
Then, just like how he pierced through the Arhat Form, the spear-like fist pierced through Zen Master Zhichen's chest and back.
Before the surrounding monks of Qingliang Temple could even react, their Arhat Hall's first monk, King Wu Zhichen, who was at the tenth realm of Buddhism, had already lost his life to the enemy.
The only person who could react in time was the abbot, Venerable Du 'e, Master Ming Guan.
The moment the young man's fist broke the staff, the Buddha that was formed from the flood in the distance rushed over with a few huge steps, slapping down with its palm in an attempt to save Zen Master Zhichen.
The Buddha that was close to a hundred meters tall rushed over with an overwhelming aura that blotted out the sky.
However, the young man raised his other hand and a hole appeared in the Buddha's palm.
The majestic aura was instantly dissipated.
The hundred-meter-tall Buddha staggered in retreat, its body trembling with a Colored Glaze Treasure Light. The river water that condensed on its body could not be stabilized and poured down continuously, as though it was raining heavily.
The young man's right hand was still in Zen Master Zhichen's chest. Then, he brought his body and appeared in front of the old monk like a ghost.
With his left hand, the child in the old monk's arms was carried over.
The monks of Qingliang Temple could not keep up with his speed at all and were shocked.
However, the young man did not continue attacking. He merely smiled at the child in his arms.
Zen Master Zhichen gasped for his last breath as he stared at the young face before him.
"You are … 'Ghost Dragon' … Su Ye?"
Su Ye smiled at him amicably.
The right hand that was stabbed into the other party's chest trembled.
Then, Zen Master Zhichen's entire body split into pieces, exploding into a mist of blood.
The mist of blood splattered backward and landed on a mountain peak.
On the surface of the mountain peak, there was a painting formed from fresh blood.
Su Ye retracted her bloodless right hand and cupped her eyes. Looking at the painting on the mountain peak, she whistled, "Bro, come take a look! This is even better than my previous work!"
Su Wei, Zhang Tianheng, Jingang and the others appeared.
"Watch out for Xiaoyuan!" Su Wei shouted in exasperation.
Su Ye turned to look.
The Buddha formed from the river water had completely dissipated.
In its place was a Colored Glaze Buddha light that condensed on the river surface, forming a golden Buddha that was about a hundred feet tall.
Although it was smaller than the Buddha formed from the river water, its strength was more condensed and powerful.
Master Mingguan looked at the blood-stained mountain peak in the distance with a bitter expression.
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