A Wagered Duel

"Hoo!"

An autumn breeze swept past, rustling the leaves of the great trees. A murderous aura rose unbidden, and the entire Treasure Pearl Temple fell abruptly silent, as if the next moment would see a great battle erupt.

But the next moment—

"Hahaha..."

A burst of laughter rang out, shattering the killing intent. General Wang, clad in golden armor, withdrew the murderous gleam from his eyes and said with a smile:

"I have long heard in the martial world that Great Yan's Treasure Pearl Temple is home to enlightened monks. Today, I see the reputation is well deserved. Since the Abbot considers himself a man beyond the mundane world and insists on not entering worldly strife, I naturally will not force the issue.

However, everyone in the jianghu says Treasure Pearl Temple is a sacred ground of martial arts, with countless masters and divine skills. Why don't we settle this with three bouts? No matter who wins or loses, after the matches, I will withdraw of my own accord. What do you say?"

General Wang's gaze was sharp as a hawk's as he fixed it on Ben Zhen.

"Alas! Since that is the case, this old monk will comply with the General's command!"

After a moment of deliberation, Abbot Ben Zhen sighed. He saw through General Wang's intentions like a fire illuminating the dark.

Treasure Pearl Temple sat atop a high mountain, with only one road leading to its gate—easy to defend, hard to attack.

Knowing this, General Wang surely understood that forcing an assault on the temple today would require thousands of soldiers to lay siege. Such a massive mobilization would be disadvantageous for King Tang, surrounded as he was by enemies. To do so merely to vent his anger would be unwise.

But this arranged duel with the temple brought many benefits. If he won, he could trample on the name of the sacred Treasure Pearl Temple to gain fame across the land, attracting martial artists to his cause. If he lost, the temple would hardly dare to spread the news. Truly, it was all gain and no loss.

Ben Zhen's heart was like a clear mirror, but when under another's roof, one must lower one's head. He had already refused General Wang once before. If he refused again, the man might fly into a rage out of humiliation.

Thus, even knowing this was a losing proposition, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept.

"Haha! Good! The Abbot is refreshingly straightforward! Then let these three bouts begin now! The participants will be limited by age.

Each side will send one martial artist aged thirty-one to thirty-five, one aged sixteen to thirty, and one aged fifteen or younger. They will fight one another, and the winner will be decided by two out of three victories. How does that sound?"

Seeing Ben Zhen agree, General Wang was overjoyed and spoke quickly, clearly having planned this long in advance.

"Very well, then let it be as the General says."

Ben Zhen saw no room to argue and nodded.

"Good! Since the Abbot has agreed, the duels begin now! First, please have your temple send out the opponent for the first match. As for my side..."

General Wang paused mid-sentence, then strode forward. He stamped his foot, and his profound Inner Qi exploded from his body in an instant.

The next moment, a thunderous boom rang through the air, as if the Heavenly Lord of Thunder himself were enraged. Beneath General Wang's stamp, the blue bricks within a two-meter radius shattered, cracks spreading in all directions, kicking up clouds of dust:

"This general is untalented, but I happen to be thirty-five this year. I volunteer to be the first vanguard for King Tang's camp in this duel. May I ask which eminent monk from your temple will come forth to instruct me?"

General Wang clasped his hands in a standard martial arts salute and spoke in a loud voice.

"Shameless!"

"Shameless!"

Seeing General Wang's display, the monks of Treasure Pearl Temple cursed inwardly. Even the twelve-year-old novice Jingsong, standing beside Gu Han, flushed red with anger, clenching his small fists as if he wanted to rush forward and give that shameless general a good beating.

Everyone knew that Treasure Pearl Temple's martial arts were orthodox Chan Buddhism techniques, emphasizing solid foundations, gradual progress, and accumulated strength.

Thus, in the temple, breaking through to Inner Qi before the age of thirty-five was considered a prodigy. To achieve Great Completion of Inner Qi was nearly impossible.

General Wang's move was indeed somewhat shameless.

But if one set aside the identity of a Treasure Pearl Temple monk and looked at it rationally, Gu Han thought this General Wang was truly a talent. He would likely accomplish great things in the future.

As the saying goes: In war, deception is the way!

For General Wang to set aside his pride and do whatever it took to win—he was no simple man.

Gu Han observed silently.

But no one knew his thoughts. At this moment, Abbot Ben Zhen, seeing General Wang's display, could only concede helplessly:

"Amitabha. The General is a heaven-sent prodigy. No martial artist under thirty-five in Treasure Pearl Temple can match you for now. This match goes to the General. Please send out the participant for the next bout."

"Good! Shi Rui, step forward. Go and seek instruction from the divine monks of Treasure Pearl Temple!"

Seeing Ben Zhen concede, General Wang's face showed satisfaction. He turned and spoke to a handsome young general behind him, eight feet tall, with red lips and white teeth, clad in a white robe.

"Yes, General!"

The White-Robed Young General's expression turned serious. Without hesitation, he hefted his Halberd and strode to the center of the square. The next moment, his blood and qi erupted like a tiger or leopard, and he declared in a clear voice:

"I am Shi Rui, vanguard of the third army under King Tang Li Hanhai of Great Yan. Today, I humbly request instruction from the eminent monks of Treasure Pearl Temple. I hope you will not begrudge your teachings!"

Shi Rui's voice rang out clearly. His white armor reflected dazzling light under the sun, making him seem like a heavenly god descended to earth—majestic and noble, not to be looked at directly.

"Yuanyin, you will go up and spar with this Vanguard Shi."

Watching Shi Rui, whose blood and qi surged skyward as his Halberd pointed straight at them, Ben Zhen's expression did not change. He spoke to a middle-aged monk in a yellow robe, built like an iron tower, who stood beside the head of the Dharma Institute.

"As the Abbot commands!"

The yellow-robed monk Yuanyin stepped forward, carrying an iron staff as thick as a wrist, weighing at least fifty or sixty catties, and walked to the center of the square.

"Please!"

"Please!"

The two men stood facing each other, having first exchanged greetings.

The next moment, both figures moved.

Shiiing!

The air tore like thin paper as the Halberd, forged from refined iron and weighing several dozen jin, seemed as light as a feather in Shi Rui's hands. He swung it freely, slicing through the void as he brought it crashing down toward Yuanyin.

If such a terrifying blow actually landed, let alone flesh and blood, even a century-old tree would be cleaved cleanly in two.

"Well struck!"

Seeing Shi Rui's attack, Yuanyin let out a sharp cry and raised his long staff high toward the heavens, like an enraged temple vajra about to slaughter millions of demons!

This staff technique was none other than the secret art of Treasure Pearl Temple's Dharma Institute—the Demon Subduing Staff Technique!

Clang!

Dust scattered across the ground as the two clashed at close quarters. A metallic ringing erupted in an instant, spreading from the center of their battle in all directions, rattling everyone's eardrums and sending shockwaves rippling through the air.

"A fine monk you are—and what strength!"

As staff and halberd met, the White-Robed Young General, Shi Rui, was the first to falter. He staggered back three steps, the Halberd in his hands trembling with a buzzing hum, nearly slipping from his grip.

Clearly, in this contest of raw power, he had lost.

"You're not bad either!"

Yuanyin's expression turned solemn as he spoke.

From the very start of his martial training—through Skin Tempering, Muscle Tendon Strengthening, Blood Tempering, and now Blood Tempering Perfection—his cultivation had always emphasized power. Coupled with his innate Heavenly Divine Strength, his raw force was nearly unmatched at the Blood Tempering stage!

An ordinary Blood Tempering Perfection expert, if pitted against him in a contest of strength, would likely suffer light injuries and be defeated in a single exchange. Yet Shi Rui had only retreated three steps—a testament to his own formidable power.

"Ha! Again!"

After a few breaths of stalemate, Shi Rui let out a light shout and attacked first. The Halberd in his hands moved with supernatural skill, filling the arena with afterimages of the blade.

Clearly, having seen Yuanyin overpower him with brute force, Shi Rui had changed tactics, seeking victory through agility.

Clang, clang, clang...

Halberd shadows and staff shadows flew wildly as metallic clashes rang out, the two exchanging blows.

Shi Rui struck from all directions, his footwork nimble—touching and retreating, never locking weapons or wrestling for leverage. He moved like a nimble ape, swift and elusive.

Faced with such a mobile opponent, Yuanyin kept it simple. He held his staff and blocked everywhere, spinning the several-dozen-jin refined iron staff so fast that not even a drop of water could penetrate. He stood like a pagoda, rooted to the ground, unmoving as a mountain.

"This Shi Rui is probably going to lose."

After about two or three quarters of an hour, watching the two fighters in the arena, Gu Han came to this conclusion.

Though he was no match for either of them at present, his strength was close enough that he could already see Shi Rui's footwork and movement growing increasingly chaotic as time passed—a clear sign of severe stamina depletion.

Yuanyin, on the other hand, had only been defending passively, so his stamina was far less drained. Even after such a prolonged battle, his staff technique remained strict and measured, unhurried—clearly holding strength in reserve.

Sure enough, after only the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Yuanyin spotted a flaw in Shi Rui's halberd technique and suddenly lashed out with his staff:

"Let go!"

A loud shout rang out as Shi Rui's Halberd, struck by Yuanyin's sweeping blow, flew from his hands and clattered to the ground in the distance. Shi Rui himself was sent flying by the strike, crashing to the earth with a "waa" as he spat out a mouthful of blood. His face turned deathly pale—clearly, he had no strength left to fight.

"Amitabha! General, this round goes to our temple."

Seeing Yuanyin display such divine might and defeat Shi Rui, Ben Zhen's face broke into a smile.

He was no Buddha, free of sorrow and joy, having severed the seven emotions and six desires. Having been so oppressed by General Wang today, finally venting that frustration brought him genuine delight.

"Useless trash!"

General Wang first cursed at the severely wounded Shi Rui, then turned to Ben Zhen with a smile:

"Abbot, don't be hasty. This round indeed goes to your temple. But isn't there still another round? It's a bit early to be gloating, wouldn't you say?"

"Wolf cub, come out. Show these eminent monks of Treasure Pearl Temple the martial arts you've learned these past few years."

General Wang smiled as he turned to address a youth behind him—a boy with an unusually thick coat of body hair, a wild expression, eyes filled with bloodlust, and a gaze like a mad wolf from the mountains.

"Owww! Goo... good. Fath... father!"

A voice that sounded half-human, half-beast, grating and strange, came from the boy's mouth. The next moment, he picked up a long blade and stepped forward.