Three monks walked out from inside the Golden Tent. They were not dressed like monks of the Central Plains, so they must have been monks of the Esoteric Buddhism. Not a shred of Buddhist mercy could be seen on those three; instead, an oppressive aura of slaughter hung about them.
All three monks wielded a golden shield. Just moments before, when Wang Ming had forced his way in, those three had raised their shields and shoved him and his horse back out together.
"What people are you? This is the first time I've ever seen anyone whose strength could match mine." Wang Ming stood up, saw the monks who had emerged, and asked.
"This old monk and my two brothers cultivate the supreme art of the Vajra Sect of Mongolian Esoteric Buddhism, the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, so our strength is naturally formidable. On the other hand, Benefactor, you do not look as though you have cultivated the Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill, yet you possess such divine might. Truly impressive," the elder monk said.
"The Dragon Elephant Prajna Skill? No wonder! What level have you guys cultivated to?" Wang Ming asked casually.
"Humbled as we are, this old monk, thanks to the Great Khan's full support, have only reached the ninth tier." The monk's words were extremely modest, but his expression was plainly one of pride. Although this martial art had thirteen tiers, historically only the ninth tier had ever been attained, and the ninth tier alone was enough to let them look down upon all heroes.
Hearing this, Wang Ming was also taken aback, and he thought to himself: Are these ancient people really this honest? I only asked casually, and he spilled all his secrets.
Hearing this news, Wang Ming's heart finally settled.
Do not underestimate the ninth