Guan Neng, the eldest, had a flushed face and a violent temper. Like Xie Xun, he had injured his heart meridian.
Zong Weixia, the second eldest, had a bluish complexion and had injured his liver meridian. Tang Wenliang, the third, looked waxen and had injured his spleen meridian. Chang Jingzhi, the fourth, looked like a vampire and had injured his lung meridian. Hu Zhouzi, the fifth, was black as charcoal and had injured his kidney meridian.
The five struck together, their momentum immense. As they circulated their power, their complexions darkened further.
Red Dust neither dodged nor evaded, allowing their fists to strike her protective aura.
The Ming Cult's senior figures were stunned. This was far too arrogant. Even if she had just defeated Mount Hua's sect leader, she could not simply let others' fists hit her body—especially when the Kongtong Five Elders were far from ordinary fighters.
Before long, none of them could even get near Red Dust. They could only withdraw helplessly.
"Thank you, Daoist, for showing mercy. Kongtong has lost."
"It was merely luck. You all went easy on me."
When the Kongtong Five Elders heard Red Dust say this, the resentment from their defeat dissipated. They all smiled, clasped their fists, and returned to their own camp.
Guan Neng clasped his fists toward the other five sects and said:
"Kongtong was incompetent and failed to win this bout. We must rely on the rest of you."
At the same time, Red Dust clasped her fists and said, "Which sect will come down to offer instruction next?"
For a moment, the six sects looked at one another in embarrassment. Only Emei and Shaolin had yet to take the field.
The Ming Cult members all revealed expressions of delight, feeling that they might not have to die today