My Buddha Is Merciful

"Reinforcements—"

"Crossbowmen, take the high ground."

"Armor up."

The armored sentries had already rushed from the main camp the instant the flare for aid rose into the air.

More than a dozen crossbowmen, quivers on their backs, raced toward the hill beside the river bend.

The soldiers rushing from the other tents swiftly paired up and tidied up their armor.

Zhang Yuan looked towards Yu Changlong, who was running over in armor.

"Old Yu, I'll leave this place to you. I'm going to take a look."

Before his words had even faded, he was already sprinting out of camp.

By the river bend, all three wooden ships had run aground. Since they were loaded with iron ore, Yong'an County had arranged for yamen runners to guard them, while the Martial Guard Bureau had also stationed several Black Robe Guards there.

"Chaos Auxiliary Battle."

Standing on the riverbank, Zhang Yuan muttered under his breath as he continued moving, striding swiftly onward.

A flash of golden-red light flickered through his eyes, and crisscrossing lines appeared before him.

Pale red silhouettes emerged across the three wooden ships.

With his current cultivation, unless they were in the Grandmaster Realm, it was impossible for them to appear as red-black shadows.

In truth, Xiantian Realm true essence and spiritual perception could also quickly determine an enemy's cultivation and position, but that would expose Zhang Yuan's own cultivation.

He crossed three zhang in a single sideways step and soared onto the deck. Though the wooden ship had already been washed, faint traces of blood still hung in the air.

At the bow, two yamen runners lay sprawled in pools of blood.

When Zhang Yuan reached the cabin, an armored soldier was slumped beside the door, the armor plates over his chest shattered.

Zhang Yuan reached out and pressed down, his expression instantly darkening.

The blow had shattered the rib bones and internal organs. It was a strike of more than Thousand Jin Strength.

Whoosh—

Whoosh—

Arrows shot through the air over Zhang Yuan's head, flying toward another wooden ship.

Over there, several pale red pillars of light were tangled together.

Zhang Yuan turned and stepped onto the gunwale, shooting two zhang into the air as he gave a low shout, "Move aside!"

The soldiers on the ship immediately retreated, revealing several black-clad martial artists ahead.

Still in midair, Zhang Yuan reached down.

The foremost black-clad martial artist held a heavy saber and slashed straight at Zhang Yuan's head.

The slash was not only fast but also tremendously powerful. His saber technique was clearly of a high level.

With the blade coming straight at him, Zhang Yuan neither dodged nor evaded. His outstretched palm curled into a fist, and with a sweep of his arm, he struck the flat of the heavy saber.

Bang—

The saber-wielder could not hold onto his weapon. The heavy saber was smashed from his grasp and plunged heavily into the deck, its blade piercing straight through.

The martial artist's face filled with horror as he retreated.

Zhang Yuan dropped down, smashing through the deck beneath his feet. The several black-robed martial artists before him fell into the cabin along with the shattered planks.

The cabin was filled with black, icy iron ore. Before the men could regain their footing, Zhang Yuan had already flown in, driving a fist into the foremost martial artist's chest.

Thousand Jin Strength.

The martial artist shuddered all over, blood spraying from his mouth as his body went limp.

Zhang Yuan's force had reached the realm of Lift Heavy as Light. The Thousand Jin Strength of that punch was concentrated entirely in the other man's chest. His rib bones were uninjured, but all five organs had ruptured.

There was a saying in the martial world: strike the ox beyond the mountain.

In truth, this circulation of force was called Penetrating Force.

It was an application of Power Control. Only those with sufficiently high Martial Cultivation could wield it with such fluid mastery.

Having killed an enemy with one punch, Zhang Yuan stepped forward and spun, smashing his elbow into the chest of a martial artist beside him who was bringing down his saber.

Ironclad Fist, Turning Elbow.

Bang—

The martial artist, who possessed Houtian early-stage cultivation, was sent flying. He smashed into the cabin walls, shattering the cabin, and his body became wedged there.

This strike used Lift Light as Heavy's Mountain-Shaking Force.

It looked like a casual blow, yet the force it unleashed was vast and mighty, enough to make mountains tremble.

"This one's hard to handle!"

"Run!"

Zhang Yuan's two brutal strikes instantly stripped the remaining martial artists of any courage to continue the fight. They turned and fled.

Zhang Yuan swept his gaze over them and caught up in a few steps with a martial artist wielding a saber.

Seeing Zhang Yuan pursuing him, the martial artist knew he could not escape. Gripping his long saber, a vicious expression surfaced on his face as he turned and slashed at Zhang Yuan's head.

Martial world cultivation methods and combat techniques differed in some ways from military combat techniques.

The military emphasized killing in a single blow, with clean and decisive movements.

Martial world techniques had many more probing and skirmishing moves, feints and variations that were difficult to guard against.

If their cultivation and combat strength had been evenly matched, that vicious turning slash would have left his opponent with no choice but to evade.

But Zhang Yuan's cultivation was far superior, and his Martial Way Cultivation was flawlessly integrated. As the long saber came down, he did not even spare it a glance.

He stepped forward and pressed his arm ahead.

The arm wielding the long saber was blocked by Zhang Yuan's arm.

Following the momentum, Zhang Yuan reached out, seized the man's arm, and twisted hard.

Crack—

The saber-wielder's arm snapped at the elbow and twisted grotesquely.

"Aaah—"

The martial artist trembled all over as he howled in pain, staring at Zhang Yuan in terror.

Zhang Yuan reached out, gripped the man's throat, and lifted him up, leaving his feet dangling in midair.

"Talk. Who are you people?"

His voice was cold and stern, devoid of the slightest emotion.

These bandits had dared to launch a night raid on a place guarded by official troops and even dared to kill people. This was already a provocation against the Martial Guard Bureau.

"I, I—"

The martial artist whose throat was gripped had a red-purple face as he struggled to speak.

"We, we're from Guangyuan Stockade..."

Before he could finish, a howl came from behind Zhang Yuan.

Zhang Yuan's expression did not change. With a flick of his hand, he spun and hurled away the martial artist he had been holding.

Bang—

With a thunderous impact, the thrown martial artist's spine broke and his body twisted as he fell onto the pile of ore.

The force of that strike was equal to a Thousand Jin heavy punch.

Zhang Yuan turned and looked at the figure slowly drawing back his fist before him.

His features were indistinct in the night, but his bald head gleamed brightly.

"Buddhist Fist Technique."

"A Buddhist Cultivator from Liangyuan Region."

Zhang Yuan narrowed his eyes, killing intent surging within them.

"Since when did the worms of Liangyuan Region dare run wild in my Great Qin!"

With a low shout, Zhang Yuan stepped forward, wind swirling around him as he threw a punch.

The bald figure's expression changed. Gritting his teeth, he met Zhang Yuan's punch with one of his own, crying out in a low voice, "Bright King Suppresses the World—"

Buddhism was widespread in Liangyuan Region. It emphasized using external forces to temper oneself, seeking the path of ascetic cultivation.

Liangyuan was a bitterly cold land, exceptionally suited to Buddhist Cultivation.

Buddhist cultivation methods proceeded from the outside inward. They were fierce and heavy, and at the same realm, their vitality and blood were more than a notch stronger than those of Martial Cultivation.

That was why many martial artists of the same level did not dare fight Buddhist Cultivators.

The Buddhist Cultivator facing Zhang Yuan was at the Houtian Mid-stage, and the force of his punch exceeded a thousand jin.

That was precisely why, even after seeing Zhang Yuan's formidable strength, he still dared to exchange punches with him.

Bang—

Their fists collided with a thunderous boom.

Zhang Yuan did not move an inch. The Buddhist Cultivator opposite him staggered backward, and a faint crack sounded from his arm. His tendons and bones had clearly broken.

"You, you aren't Houtian Mid-stage—"

The Buddhist Cultivator raised his head to look at Zhang Yuan, his eyes full of shock and fear.

Zhang Yuan stepped forward and placed his hand atop the Buddhist Cultivator's head.

"Talk. What are you here looking for?"

Several tens of thousands of jin of iron ore might be valuable, but it could not possibly be carried away.

There was only one reason: these people were searching for something.

Something very important.

Something worth killing for.

"My Buddha is merciful, you ask not—"

Before the Buddhist Cultivator could finish, force pressed down from Zhang Yuan's palm.

Crack—

His neck bones snapped, and his spine shattered.

The Buddhist Cultivator's eyes widened. Blood flowed from his seven orifices as his body dropped to its knees, his breath extinguished.

"If you won't talk, someone else will."

Zhang Yuan turned to look at the figures fleeing from the cabin, his gaze settling on the man whose pillar of light was the most vivid.

Houtian Late-stage.

He could be considered an expert.