Dingguang Buddha! Dwelling in the Rock! A Holy Manifestation Appeared on the Stone Wall After a Thousand Years!

"What!"

The scar-faced man's expression turned to shock. He said in disbelief,

"This book was first published across the web by .

"Other than that heretic Gao Bin, who else in the Imperial Awakening Temple could have killed Zhao the Left Chancellor?!"

The White-Robed Monk didn't answer.

Instead, he stood before the entrance to the Mahavira Hall with his hands pressed together. Gazing toward the figure beneath the mountain gate at the end of the mountain path, he bowed from afar and asked,

"Fellow Daoist, have you also come to contend for that true dragon's destiny?"

"..."

What the hell was this true dragon's destiny?

You're all just lusting after my body! Shameless!

Although Zhu Yuanzhang had no idea how the other man had calculated things so accurately—how he had foreseen the present, sixty years later, and determined that only by killing every monk who entered the temple in the third year of Zhizheng could he seize the great fortune Minghe carried—

it was clear that the string of coincidences targeting him and Minghe couldn't possibly be accidental.

"Zhu Chongba."

Zhu Yuanzhang shook his monk's robe.

The blood and qi unleashed in an instant by the Mountain-Shrinking Fist, empowered by the Great Wisdom Zen Technique, nearly solidified into something tangible.

The force shook his robe in the air, making it crack like a whip!

Zhu Yuanzhang's gaze was calm as still water as he stared into the White-Robed Monk's eyes. The other man instinctively felt a chill.

The White-Robed Monk drew in a sharp breath. When he felt the briny, surging force crashing toward him like the sea, cold sweat instantly broke out across his brow.

He spoke through gritted teeth.

"The Mountain-Shrinking Fist! So this is the divine art that utterly counters the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique."

"Zhao the Left Chancellor's death wasn't undeserved."

"?"

What the hell?

So the Mountain-Shrinking Fist was the natural enemy of the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique?

Mingshan, you bastard, you set me up!

Zhu Yuanzhang's expression darkened.

Making me cultivate two techniques that counter each other—how was that any different from raising poisonous creatures in my belly?

"..."

Zhu Yuanzhang said nothing, but silently added another mark against Mingshan.

You old monk who loves carrying an umbrella, just you wait!

I'll make sure to deal with you later.

Zhu Yuanzhang didn't waste any time.

The only reason he hadn't left right away was that, compared to the course of history, there was still one thing he lacked.

"The Imperial Awakening Temple's ordination certificate."

Although Zhu Yuanzhang had found several ordination certificates on Zhao Zhen, they hadn't been filled in yet.

They needed the signature of Gao Bin, the abbot of the Imperial Awakening Temple, to become valid.

To be safe,

until he understood the strength of the Great Yuan court,

Zhu Yuanzhang had no intention of openly entering into a direct conflict with it.

He touched the stone steps with his toe. The bluestone beneath him instantly shattered under the monstrous strength of the Mountain-Shrinking Fist.

In the White-Robed Monk's eyes,

Zhu Yuanzhang's punch struck like a sudden gale, raising a mountainous wave that came crashing down.

There was nowhere to run! Nowhere to dodge!

The salty sea breeze blew straight at them, plunging everyone into an illusion.

In the blink of an eye, they seemed to have appeared on an unfamiliar reef.

The sky was gloomy, the foreboding of an approaching storm.

A thunderous drumbeat rose from beneath the sea, and the people saw a huge shadow flash past.

Though they couldn't make out its full shape, the sight filled them with bone-deep terror.

And now, the shadow beneath the waves was speeding toward the people trapped on the reef!

"Wake up!"

The White-Robed Monk bellowed.

Then he bit his finger. As blood dripped down, golden-red flames flared around him in an instant.

It was the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique!

That was also why Zhu Yuanzhang had dared to charge in without hesitation.

"I told you! No one understands the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique better than I do!"

Compared to the Mountain-Shrinking Fist bearing down like a tsunami, the White-Robed Monk's Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Fire was like a tiny flame on the verge of going out.

It was extinguished with almost no resistance.

But something wasn't right.

As an unfamiliar incantation sounded from the White-Robed Monk's mouth, a terrifying sense of danger descended without warning.

"Dingguang Buddha! Dwell in the rock! After a thousand years, reveal your holy trace upon the stone wall!"

The voice didn't sound as though the White-Robed Monk was speaking. It seemed more like some dreadful being was "flowing" out through his body.

Nor was it the official speech spoken north of the Yangtze River,

or the soft dialect of the south.

It sounded more like the Nuo opera sung by shamans worshipping their ancestors in the primitive, mixed Han and Hu tribes of the barbaric Minyue lands.

For some reason, Zhu Yuanzhang felt uneasy.

This was the first time he'd seen someone use the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique with an incantation.

But Zhu Yuanzhang paid no mind to the White-Robed Monk's strange chant.

The Mountain-Shrinking Fist continued forward, steady and forceful.

Dagon's phantom appeared behind Zhu Yuanzhang.

"Break!"

But the sensation he'd expected—like when he'd beaten Zhao Zhen, crushing everything in his path as easily as a rotten tomato—never came.

Zhu Yuanzhang felt as if his fist had struck solid rock.

He'd left deep cracks in the stone, but that wasn't enough to completely shatter the image of Dingguang Buddha on the cliff face!

[Holy Wish-Fulfillment]

The Great Wisdom Zen Technique surged into motion!

As patches of blue scales began to grow across the exposed parts of Zhu Yuanzhang's body,

astonishing blood and qi appeared out of nowhere in every limb and bone!

The power of the Mountain-Shrinking Fist suddenly intensified.

The White-Robed Monk, who had been holding his own with relative ease, instantly turned pale.

The black strands at his temples turned white in an instant, and a look of despair appeared in his eyes.

"Kill!"

Zhu Yuanzhang and the White-Robed Monk had only exchanged blows for a moment.

In that flash, at the White-Robed Monk's shout, the Incense Army around them reacted as well.

The scar-faced man pulled a cowhide pouch from his robes, punctured it with a sharp knife, then scattered the black-red, half-congealed blood over his saber. The next moment, he roared and swung at Zhu Yuanzhang's head.

"Pig's blood mixed with garlic water."

Smelling the pungent odor in the air, Zhu Yuanzhang understood.

Danger!

The force of the Mountain-Shrinking Fist weakened slightly.

Even the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Fire surrounding the White-Robed Monk began to waver.

"Don't retreat! The Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing Art is affected even more than the Mountain-Shrinking Fist!"

Zhu Yuanzhang thrust out an arm.

He reached straight for the blade in the scar-faced man's hand.

Clang!

The clash of metal rang out as Zhu Yuanzhang's arm met the blade.

A fierce burning sensation spread from his palm.

The saber in the scar-faced man's hand snapped in two!

"Idiot!"

Seeing his saber break, the scar-faced man threw his head back and spat out a mouthful of blood. The web between his thumb and forefinger split apart, yet instead of anger, he looked delighted.

"A cultivator dares to willingly take on the stench of meat and blood! You're asking for death!"

"Cut him down!"

But just as the scar-faced man raised his saber, preparing to take Zhu Yuanzhang's head while his wound was still healing,

Zhu Yuanzhang suddenly turned his head, coldness in his eyes, and shouted,

"Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing!"

The scar-faced man saw golden-red flames flare from beneath the monk before him, instantly swallowing him whole.

"Why... Xiang..."

As he died, the scar-faced man turned to the White-Robed Monk in disbelief.

He clearly thought the White-Robed Monk had made a mistake and hit him by accident.

But the White-Robed Monk had no time to wonder how Zhu Yuanzhang could cultivate both the Fixed-Light Demon-Subduing True Technique and the Mountain-Shrinking Fist, two arts that completely countered each other.

Seizing the opening the scar-faced man had created with his life,

the White-Robed Monk tore open his robe, revealing two enormous characters for "Buddha" across his chest and back.

Then he began to recite the sixteen-character mantra.

"Fixed-Light Manifestation! Ancient Buddha Dropping Radiance!"

"Golden Threads Adorning Afar! Stone Shadow Floating Light!"

A genuine Buddha's image appeared on the White-Robed Monk's chest, which had already turned to stone, radiating great compassion and great light.

Then he recited the sacred praise again!

"Heavenly Hanging Treasure Canopy! Earth Gushing Golden Lotus!"

"Buddha Origin Painting Shadow! Liang Wu Opening Year!"