Ambush from Behind

Seeing that Zhang Sanfeng did not respond, Xuan Ci had no choice. Though he wanted to lend the Sweeping Monk a hand, looking at his group, their martial arts were far too inferior to those two. If they joined the fight, not only would they be unable to help, they would instead hold their companions back. Xuan Cheng had originally been the best candidate; with his cultivation, he should have been qualified to enter the battle. Unfortunately, he had been injured by that Mongol monk during the day.

Thinking of this, Xuan Ci felt indignant. As expected, this had all been Wudang's scheme: first colluding with the Cult Master and the Western Regions Mongol Monk to injure Shaolin's experts and weaken Shaolin's strength, making it easier for them to sneak in at midnight.

At this moment, the surroundings were utterly silent. The Shaolin experts watched the two men exchange blows before them, their shock beyond words.

When ordinary martial artists of the jianghu made moves, every stance usually had a famous name. If you used the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms, then I would answer with the Nine Swords of Dugu. Back and forth, they would all be renowned techniques of the martial world. Yet the two before them had completely shattered this understanding.

The Sweeping Monk gave a light pat. No one could tell what technique it was; it looked utterly ordinary, as though even a country farmer could casually step aside and evade it. Yet Zhang Sanfeng faced it as though confronting a great enemy. Rather than dodge, he punched directly at the descending palm.

If Song Qingshu had been here, he would surely have marveled at it endlessly. In the original work, Murong Bo's martial arts had been formidable beyond measure. Facing that pat, he had raised a