When the Pudu Cult party, along with Niu Dali, Yuan Bin, and the others, chased into this stretch of mountain forest, what they saw was an incomparably fierce clash between two men. It made their scalps tingle and sent chills seeping from their hearts.
In terms of moves, both were simple and pure, almost brutally direct. You threw a punch at me, I hammered you with one in return. You swung a palm, I had to give you a slap back. Neither evaded, neither yielded.
Their fists struck flesh, yet what rang out was the booming resonance of bronze bells and great chimes, the humming echoes unceasing.
The Heavenly Maiden was so shocked that her clear, bright eyes nearly split wide open. Her mouth gaped beneath her veil, and the Pure Vase in her hand nearly fell to the ground. She could not believe that someone dared to fight Gebhu Dharma King to such a degree.
Not only her—even that arrogant, bald great monk was dumbfounded. He raised the back of his hand to wipe his eyes, blinked again and again, then finally cried out,
"Motherfucker, is there something wrong with my eyes? How can that pretty boy be this fierce?"
Gebhu Dharma King's martial arts had not yet reached the point of being invincible under heaven. Though his Innate combat strength had reigned supreme for a time, he was not without rivals. There were certainly no shortage of people who could trade blows with him, for across the Divine Continent, capable people emerged in droves, and there were always formidable figures beyond ordinary imagination.
However, trading blows on equal terms came in different varieties.
One way was to focus on dodging and use movement techniques to drag things out. In that case, one's own strength fell short, so one