The guest tower was engraved with god-level runes. Sensing the threat of his punch, the surrounding walls and ceiling instantly lit up with countless obscure runes, going all out to resist the damage that might be caused by the repercussions.
Pu!
Ding Ning's punch landed solidly on the old monk's chest with all his might. However, it did not produce an earth-shattering sound as he had expected. Instead, it was as if he had struck leather, producing a muffled sound.
What made him even more terrified was that when this terrifying power, which even he was a little afraid of, landed on the old monk's body, it was like a clay ox entering the sea, not causing any ripples at all.
He, who had lost all his strength, fell limply to the ground, panting heavily. He looked at the old monk, who was standing there motionlessly, with a slightly pale face. His eyes were filled with dismay, as if he had seen a ghost.
He was an unprecedented peak demigod. Furthermore, he had used all his strength in his punch. Not only did he not injure the old monk, he could not even force him to take half a step back. This made him lose confidence in his own strength for the first time in his life.
As expected, there would always be someone stronger than him, and there would always be someone stronger than him.
However, people like the sweeping monk were too annoying. Every time the protagonist felt that he was invincible in the world, he would jump out and cause the protagonist to seriously doubt his life. He was simply a professional at pouring cold water on people.
"Pu!"
The old monk did not speak for a long time, nor did he move. However, after an unhealthy flush appeared on his pale face, he suddenly took three steps back and spat out a mouthful of blood.
Ding Ning was amused. He lay on the ground and laughed like an idiot. It seemed that the invincible sweeping monk was not completely unharmed. He was still slightly injured. This was enough for him to be proud of.
After the old monk spat out a mouthful of blood, his pale face quickly became rosy. In the blink of an eye, it returned to normal, causing Ding Ning's laughter to stop.
What the hell, was there any justice in this world? He had attacked with all his might, exhausted like a dog, but the other party only spat out a mouthful of blood and continued to jump around as if nothing had happened. This difference was really too big.
"Not bad, not bad. This punch is very strong. It's even stronger than when Bodhidharma pestered me to become his disciple. The younger generation will surpass us in time."
The old monk exclaimed in admiration.
Ding Ning's mood suddenly became cheerful again. Compared to before Dharma became his disciple, he was three times better. This was definitely a supreme glory, enough to make him proud.
"But …"
The old monk's tone suddenly changed, causing Ding Ning's expression to immediately fall.
Sure enough, these old fellows liked to change their words at the drop of a hat. First praising, then belittling, was their usual routine.
"Although the power of your punch surpasses that of Bodhidharma, your fist intent is far inferior to his. It only has the form, but not the spirit."
The old monk did not care about his changing expression and gave a very pertinent evaluation.
These words woke Ding Ning from his reverie. Hearing this, Ding Ning revealed a thoughtful expression. There seemed to be nothing wrong with these words.
He hadn't noticed this problem before, because the Barbarian Physical Exercise Nine Punches into One drew the power of every cell in the body. As the saying goes, one force can defeat ten. In the face of absolute power, anyone could be easily crushed, so there was no need to comprehend the fist intent.
But after seeing the old monk's methods, he finally understood that the so-called 'one force can defeat ten' required absolute power as the foundation.
And his power was far from being strong enough to crush all enemies, so how could there be the saying of 'one force can defeat ten'?
The reason why he didn't realize this in the past was not because he was arrogant or arrogant, but because the opponents he encountered were either too weak or too strong, so he was filled with blind confidence in his own power.
But today, the old monk used practical actions to teach him a vivid lesson, making him realize that there was still a huge flaw and insufficiency in his power.
Immediately, he struggled to stand up, dragging his weak body, cupped his fists and bowed, sincerely asking for guidance, "Senior, may I ask how I should comprehend the fist intent?"
He had already comprehended a little bit of the saber intent, but that was because he had laid a good foundation since he was young, and with his father's saber intent as a template, he could barely comprehend the saber intent.
But for the fist intent, although he usually used his fists, he relied on strength far beyond his opponent to crush them, there was no pattern to speak of.
The old monk looked at him deeply, sighed angrily, and said, "Alas! I really don't know where you obtained the inheritance of a body refiner. You're sitting on a mountain of treasures, yet you don't know it. It's simply a reckless waste of god's given gifts. You have to know that body refiners never use any weapons, because a true body refiner's tyrannical body is their sharpest weapon. Their fists, legs, shoulders, head, knees, elbows, and even every inch of their skin and hair can become invincible tools of battle. "
The old monk's words suddenly reminded Ding Ning of the Fire God who died in his hands. Even though he was not convinced, he had to admit that the Fire God was not as lucky as him. If he were in the Fire God's place, he would definitely not be able to achieve what the Fire God had.
It could be said that in terms of body cultivation, the Fire God had more talent and comprehension than him. It was obvious from the fact that he could use the vibration of his bones to turn every part of his body into a killing weapon.
This made Ding Ning feel a little ashamed. In reality, he was not a pure body cultivator, so even if he had the unique advantage of weapon cultivation, he had never taken it to heart. Instead, he put more energy and effort into researching medical skills … uh, and picking up girls.
To be honest, he was a person who did not engage in proper work and did not have any ambition. Even if the Sorcerer God Palace's final Battle of Inheritance was going to happen in a hundred years, he was still sloppy and muddling along.
The old monk's words were like a bucket of wisdom, giving him a heart of enlightenment. There was nothing wrong with his insistence on the path of medicine.
But the problem was, since he already had the advantage of a solid body through weapon cultivation, why did he not continue to work hard on this advantage and maximize it?
"Fist intent is just a general term. It is not something that can be called fist intent just because a martial artist has a superficial understanding of it. The fist intent that the ancient body cultivators speak of refers to the precise control of every part of the body's strength and the precise and rational use of it. With a strong body as the foundation and various fighting techniques, the strength can be instantly released when needed to achieve the greatest power."
The old monk's eyes were like torches as he looked at Ding Ning and said with assurance, "Judging from your previous punch, you must have used up all the strength in your body in an instant to release the greatest power in an instant. It seems very good, but I am sure that this is not because your control of strength has reached the peak. Instead, it originates from some kind of life-risking secret skill that is similar to perishing together with the enemy. When this move is used, it is fine if it can kill the enemy, but if it can't, then you can only be at the mercy of others."
Ding Ning nodded his head in great admiration. Indeed, the old monk had hit the nail on the head. At the end of the day, the Nine Fists as One was a life-risking method that had to be used. If the enemy died, then he would live. If the enemy did not die, then he could only wait for death.
Seeing that he had listened, the old monk nodded his head in satisfaction. His eyes shone with wisdom. "Although the path of martial arts is ever-changing, at the end of the day, it is impossible to break away from the scope of mechanics. No matter if it is' speed is unbeatable in the world of martial arts' or 'strength can defeat ten', they are all wise sayings that point directly to the core of martial arts. They are also the most basic essence and core of martial arts. However, with the passing of time and the loss of ancient martial arts, many modern martial artists have already neglected the essentials and only cared about pursuing the illusory Heaven's Way. They have forgotten that the most basic thing is actually the foundation that determines a martial artist's future achievements."
The old monk's speech was neither fast nor slow, but it was like the evening drum and morning bell. It made Ding Ning's entire body tremble. He suddenly felt enlightened and a look of understanding flashed in his eyes.
Yes, it was originally a very simple matter, but it was complicated by martial artists who pursued a higher realm.
What was martial arts?
From the word 'martial', it was composed of a 'stop' and a 'dagger'. Some people understood it as' using violence to control violence ', but in fact, it was not. In ancient times,' stop 'meant' toe ', while' dagger 'referred to weapons.
The original meaning of the word 'martial' referred to the main point of fighting: stand firm. It was also said that the lower body should be stable. Once the lower body was stable, then one could hold a weapon. In this way, one would be able to exert more power in battle and defeat the opponent.
To put it bluntly, martial arts was to fight, to fight, and to kill. The so-called strengthening of the body was just a cover in a peaceful society.
Throughout the ages, there were countless easy-to-understand sayings that in fact repeatedly stated the same truth.
For example, a towering building was built from the ground; water could carry a boat or overturn it; sand could form a tower; a journey of a thousand miles began with a single step; a journey of a thousand miles could not be accomplished without accumulating steps; a river could not be formed without accumulating small streams …
These familiar sayings were all telling everyone that the cornerstone that determined the upper building was always the foundation at the bottom.
If the foundation was not stable, even the tallest building would collapse in an instant.
A rootless tree would rot sooner or later.
A water without a source would dry up sooner or later.
There were thousands of ways to achieve the same goal, but they could never go against the most primitive law given by nature.
In the martial arts world, this principle was no exception.
In addition to those so-called lucky chances and illusory adventures, a solid basic skill was the decisive factor that determined how high a martial artist could go in the future.
Wasn't it the same for the inheritance of runes? Only by mastering the basic runes could one rearrange and combine the runes on this basis, and finally optimize a higher-level rune sequence.
The earth was round, and everything was connected.
Speed and power were the core essence of martial arts. No matter when, they were the key to victory or defeat.
Therefore, what the old monk said about the essence of martial arts was not wrong at all. Whether it was the most basic martial artist, the high-level cultivator, or even the gods, they could never go against the laws of nature set by the Creator.
Ding Ning seemed to be enlightened. With a peaceful smile on his face, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep level of comprehension.
Wu Xiang was the most intelligent young disciple of Tianyin Temple. The old monk's deliberate guidance made him feel like he was dispelling the clouds and seeing the moon. Just like Ding Ning, he sat cross-legged with his eyes closed and listened to the old monk's preaching. There was a hint of zen, like a dignified senior monk.
The old monk nodded slightly and smiled, like a Buddha picking up flowers. He glanced at Ding Ning's arm, seemingly unintentionally. Suddenly, a golden light burst out from his body and pierced through the sky. As if he had ascended to immortality, he instantly turned into a rain of light and disappeared without a trace.
Only an antique "Muscle-bone Strengthening Scripture" was placed neatly on Ding Ning's knees.
But strangely, no one noticed Ding Ning's full strength punch or the old monk's golden light that turned into a rain of light.
Only the tattoo on Ding Ning's arm wriggled. The nightmare floated out and stared at the direction where the old monk disappeared, murmuring softly, "What kind of terrifying existence is this? It can actually seal my perception? It makes me tremble from the bottom of my soul? "
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