If Meng Zhao had guessed wrong or spoken falsely, that would have been one thing. But what he said struck right at the heart of the Pudu Cult's intentions.
Those who knew too much could not be allowed to live. It was a very commonplace truth.
Thus, the Gebhu Dharma King could no longer remain calm. Under the circulating augmentation of the Dragon Elephant Golden Body, his slight body gave off fine golden gleams, like golden flames floating across the surface of his flesh. Surging blood and qi coursed through his body, producing a long cry like that of dragons and elephants, its momentum towering to the heavens.
As his brilliant golden eyes erupted with scorching rays like a blazing sun, his fist seemed to bear dragon-elephants famed for their immense strength, one after another. Vast and weighty, it rolled directly toward Meng Zhao.
Moreover, his assault did not come in a single burst. One punch followed another, each faster than the last, each fiercer than the last. They compressed space and blasted apart the air; before the shrieking whistle of one fist could fade, it was scattered by the gale of the next.
An old monk who looked as skinny as a monkey had unleashed a domineering, tyrannical fist art of boundless force, creating an immense sense of contrast.
Even someone as arrogant, savage, and fierce as Niu Dali had to draw in a sharp breath, silently thinking,
"What a vicious old monk. If it were Old Niu, I'm afraid I wouldn't dare receive this peerless fist art head-on!"
Niu Dali prided himself on having tough sinews and bones, a body as hard as forged iron, yet he still did not dare face the old monk's savage might directly. This showed just how violently powerful the Gebhu Dharma King