Oh no!
Tianjian and the others were already furious, but when they saw Xuanci leap out from behind the crowd, they immediately knew something was wrong.
Xuanci, Xuancheng, and Xuankong were undoubtedly Shaolin Temple's hopes for the next generation.
Their talent and strength were unquestionably among the best of their peers.
But that was only among their peers.
Xuanci was just thirteen years old. He was a full five or six years younger than the White-Clad Buddhist.
A five- or six-year age gap was already enormous, to say nothing of anything else.
Judging by his strength, the White-Clad Buddhist was undoubtedly a genius, so the gap between them was probably even greater.
Yet before Xuanci could charge out, another figure rushed ahead of him.
He charged straight in, opening with Dragon-Capturing Skill.
And not just any Dragon-Capturing Skill—it was Dragon-Capturing King, a move one could only master after reaching the art's great accomplishment!
He reached out with one hand, without any discernible form or style, yet in an instant, even Monk Kuxin, several meters away, felt his heart leap.
What a fierce claw!
That force was probably on par with a highly advanced Vajra Finger.
Judging by his age, he couldn't have been more than thirteen or fourteen.
Kuxin knew quite a bit about Songshan Shaolin.
New disciples first learned Arhat Fist. Once they had mastered it, they moved on to Vajra Palm or Demon Subduing Staff.
After cultivating those, they were taught advanced techniques: Great Strength Vajra Palm or Dragon Subduing Elephant Taming Art.
By the time they got to Dragon-Capturing Skill, they would have already learned five or six techniques. Under normal circumstances, that would take ten years, or even twenty.
Yet now, a junior in his teens was not only using Dragon-Capturing Skill, he had even mastered Dragon-Capturing King???
The White-Clad Buddhist's expression turned unusually grave as the Vajra Finger force met Dragon-Capturing King.
The force wasn't overwhelming; its power was even less than that of Xuanxin, whom he had just defeated. But that claw carried a force that drew everything in.
As the saying went, one move stirs the whole body.
With a technique like this, he couldn't simply evade with a few steps. He would be drawn in at once, and the opponent would follow him in. That would put him in a difficult position.
More importantly, he was the White-Clad Buddhist, Chengkong, the greatest talent Putian Shaolin had seen in a century.
It might have been one thing to dodge a commander, but this was a boy of thirteen or fourteen. If he dodged, even a victory would be dishonorable.
"Dragon-Capturing Skill? Good. Let me test the genius of Songshan Shaolin. I won't bully you. I'll use only thirty percent of my inner strength."
With a calm remark, the White-Clad Buddhist raised his palm. There was no wind, yet his sleeve suddenly billowed.
Demon-Subduing Kasaya???
In the distance, Tianjian and the others couldn't help widening their eyes.
If Putian Shaolin had any peerless arts, this Demon-Subduing Kasaya was certainly one of them. Its difficulty was on par with Shaolin Temple's Formless Calamity Finger—one of the very finest martial arts.
One sleeve, one claw.
They collided with a crash.
Bam!
The force exploded with a sharp bang.
The White-Clad Buddhist's sleeve fell loose, returning to normal.
Xuancheng's five fingers, however, went numb. He couldn't withstand the force. Like a speeding car brought to a sudden stop, he was halted in his tracks, so shaken he nearly spat blood.
"Heh! This humble monk will also test your strength!"
A voice rang out. It was Xuanci. Seeing Xuancheng charge in hadn't stopped him.
His anger had flared. How could someone else stepping in make it die down?
"Dragon-Capturing King!!!"
With a low growl, Xuanci stamped his feet against the ground. Powerful force burst from his five fingers as he reached for the White-Clad Buddhist's left arm.
The same fierce force surged from his hand. He wasn't nearly as adept as Xuancheng, but...
At that moment, even Monk Kuxin behind them couldn't help changing expression. Another one?
The White-Clad Buddhist smiled. "Well done!"
He raised his left hand and swept out another Demon-Subduing Sleeve.
Bam!
Unlike Xuancheng, Xuanci couldn't withstand the powerful force at all. He staggered backward several steps, stumbled, and fell to the ground.
"Villain! Take my Demon Subduing Staff—and my Vajra Finger!"
At that moment, several voices rang out together. Four iron staffs, each weighing over ten jin, whistled through the air, carrying two hundred jin of force and the fierce power of Dragon Subduing Elephant Taming Art as they crashed down.
Amid the staff shadows, a small figure radiated the aura of Vajra. He thrust out a finger, striking with Vajra Finger.
If Xuancheng, who had struck first, and Xuanci, who had followed, were geniuses among geniuses, then these five, though a little less outstanding, were still geniuses.
At that moment, Kuxin couldn't help muttering to himself.
Had North Shaolin been taking stimulants?
For a whole century, there hadn't been a peep from them, and now they were all bursting out at once?
Facing the attack, even the White-Clad Buddhist couldn't help drawing in a breath. His eyes shone.
These people before him—especially the one who had attacked first—might have made the outcome very hard to predict if not for the great difference in their ages.
He swept both hands around, and his Demon-Subduing Sleeves unfurled once more.
In an instant, several explosive cracks rang out. Xuanji and the others couldn't withstand the force and were sent flying backward.
By then, Xuancheng and Xuanci had recovered.
They drew deep breaths and charged forward again.
Xuancheng used Dragon-Capturing King once more, while Xuanci switched to Vajra Finger. From the left and right, they attacked the White-Clad Buddhist together.
"Good!"
Seeing the two work in tandem, the White-Clad Buddhist's usually placid expression finally showed a rare smile. His Demon-Subduing Sleeves rose.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
In an instant, the three of them were locked in a fierce fight.
The next moment, Xuanji and the others had caught their breath too. Without the slightest hesitation, they charged back in.
Demon Subduing Staff, Vajra Finger, Dragon-Capturing King.
All seven surrounded the White-Clad Buddhist, using every technique at their disposal and fighting with all their might.
Although the White-Clad Buddhist was surrounded, he remained calm and unhurried. His Demon-Subduing Sleeves moved like a sealed fortress, an unbreakable wall that kept all seven at bay.
Though the Xuan generation had joined forces against him, neither Songshan Shaolin nor Putian Shaolin said a word.
The gap between them was too great.
If the White-Clad Buddhist hadn't held back, Xuancheng and the others probably wouldn't have lasted even one move.
Even at just thirty percent of his strength, it was extremely difficult for the seven to fight him. The White-Clad Buddhist's Demon-Subduing Sleeves were simply too dazzling. Even Abbot Tianjian and the others couldn't help marveling at Putian's good fortune in finding such a disciple.
As the battle continued, the lay disciples and the Xuan-generation disciples on Songshan Shaolin's side all clenched their fists.
They wanted to cheer, but feared it might distract the fighters.
Still, there was no doubt that everyone was fired up, their hearts burning with excitement.
To be honest, when Xuanxin had lost without a shred of suspense, they hadn't just been worried and angry—they had also been at a loss.
After all, the White-Clad Buddhist was their equal in seniority and about the same age. Yet Xuanxin, a disciple of great renown, had charged in and been gravely injured before he could even take one move. It had been a tremendous blow.
Now Xuancheng and the other six had stepped out. True, they were fighting as a group, but the age gap was plain to see. A difference of five or six years at that age meant more than the ten-year gap between someone of twenty and someone of thirty.
To fight this well despite that gap, they undoubtedly deserved their standing in Shaolin Temple.
Those few were exceptional; the Xuan-generation disciples in Shaolin Temple knew that better than anyone. In truth, some of them had never been convinced.
But now, there was no doubt.
Xuancheng and the others truly deserved their place!!!
Amid the crowd, Li Su was having a terrible time. Damn it, he was miserable.
Those seven bastards had dragged him into a real mess.
He was practically hopping mad.
Especially when Xuanci moved, Xuancheng followed, and Xuannan and the others immediately went to get weapons—Li Su's whole mindset had collapsed in an instant.
Those seven idiots had charged in without thinking. What about him? What was he supposed to do?
Join them?
Join them and do what, use Cotton Palm?
What good would that do?
Xuancheng and the others were still alive only because that guy had held back. What if Li Su went in and the other man fought at full strength?
Put his life in someone else's hands and hope they showed mercy? That would never happen unless Li Su was dead.
But if he didn't go...
It might be fine for now, but what would his fellow disciples think afterward? What would his masters think?
His fellow disciples would inevitably question him, and he'd be saddled with trouble. In the eyes of his elders, he wouldn't even have the most basic courage. The enemy had come to their sect's gates, and he'd done nothing? Could a disciple like that be worth cultivating?
After all, nothing was more frightening than comparison, was it?
All he wanted was to practice in peace. Was that really asking so much? Was it?
Just as Li Su was torn with indecision, the battle reached its conclusion.
They were young, and their inner strength was insufficient.
Once their surge of enthusiasm passed, their true qi couldn't keep up.
Bam!
Even the White-Clad Buddhist, facing a group attack while using only thirty percent of his strength, didn't dare let his guard down.
With a loud bang, Xuanji and the others were the first to be blasted away. They spat blood in midair.
"Dog!"
Xuanci exploded with rage. Xuanji and the others were his closest brothers, and he still vividly remembered how the other man had attacked the lay disciple and Xuanxin at the start. How could he accept this?
Xuancheng was clearly the same. Fury filled his face. He was a martial arts fanatic and wasn't good at expressing his feelings, but that didn't mean he didn't care about Xuanji and the others.
Both of them flew into a rage, their auras surging again. Xuanci once more used Dragon-Capturing King, while Xuancheng's finger force grew even more powerful.
Almost simultaneously, the two reached out with their claws, attacking the White-Clad Buddhist as if they shared one mind.
Hm?
The White-Clad Buddhist's expression changed for the first time. Thirty percent of his strength couldn't withstand this claw, so he had no choice but to raise it further.
His Demon-Subduing Sleeve, now at forty percent of his strength, met their attack head-on.
Unfortunately, it was clear what would happen.
Xuancheng and the others were indeed strong, but in the middle of the fight, they'd already spent too much of their strength. In truth, they weren't much better off than Xuanji and the others. Their force had barely risen when they were gone, their fierce claw power vanishing in an instant.
Oh no!!!
Tianjian and the others' expressions changed drastically. There was no doubt that Xuancheng and Xuanci were the future pillars of Shaolin Temple.
In the distance, Kuxin furrowed his brow as well.
Xuanxin was one thing, but things had changed as soon as these few appeared. It didn't matter much that the others had been knocked away. Xuancheng and Xuanci were absolutely the backbone of North Shaolin. If they were badly hurt, the consequences would be grave.
Just as both sides were about to step in, a figure slipped into the fight.
He shot Xuancheng and Xuanci a scathing look. You two useless idiots, you've really screwed me over.
Damn, that Demon-Subduing Sleeve is even stronger than before, isn't it?
Feeling the force of the White-Clad Buddhist's sleeve, Li Su's teeth, stomach, and liver all ached.
Cotton Palm was useless.
Arhat Fist was useless.
Arhat True Qi? Unreliable.
So what else could he use?
He drew a breath and raised his hand. True qi gathered as he extended his index and middle fingers, five layers of force circling them and bound into one.
Without a sound, he thrust them forward.
Shaolin Temple's hardest finger technique to master, and the most powerful finger technique in the world.
Two-Finger Formless!
The simple thrust stunned Tianjian and the others—and Kuxin as well.
Formless Calamity Finger!!!
Hm???
For the first time, the White-Clad Buddhist's expression changed. That silent finger strike put him under immense pressure. It was as if the blade of death had been laid against his throat, and every hair on his body stood on end.
"One Sleeve Subdues Demons!"
His power surged, doubling in an instant as he met Li Su's finger force.
Boom!
The force exploded with a thunderous boom.
One force concentrated, the other vast; they clashed fiercely. In an instant, the space between them visibly twisted, warped by the collision of their overwhelming strength.
Thud!
Li Su's finger force broke. The difference in their strength was simply too great; it lasted barely a second.
But that was enough.
He seized the two fools who had charged out and dragged them back, escaping the explosion of the Demon-Subduing Sleeve.
Before the White-Clad Buddhist could say a word, Li Su dragged Xuancheng and Xuanci away without stopping, sprinting straight through the mountain gate and vanishing in a flash.
Watching Li Su disappear in an instant, the White-Clad Buddhist didn't pursue him. He merely stood where he was, stunned.
In terms of strength, he had won—no, he had crushed his opponent.
But in terms of destructive power, it truly lived up to its name as the world's most powerful finger technique.
As expected of North Shaolin. The leading sect of the righteous path was worthy of its reputation.
Drawing a deep breath, the White-Clad Buddhist pressed his palms together. "Amitabha Buddha. I lost this battle."
Xuancheng was one thing. When he was thirteen or fourteen, their strength had been about equal. But that finger from Li Su had surpassed all imagination.
Formless Calamity Finger—finger techniques even harder to master than the Demon-Subduing Sleeve. And not only had his opponent learned it, he had actually succeeded in mastering it.
As a member of Putian Shaolin, the White-Clad Buddhist knew that Formless Calamity Finger had different realms: First Finger of Final Calamity, then Two-Finger Formless. Only upon reaching the second finger could one be said to have truly entered the art.
He had practiced the Demon-Subduing Sleeve for seven or eight years, yet had only just reached the level of subduing demons with a single sleeve. He still hadn't attained the highest realm of the Demon-Subduing Sleeve. And his opponent? He looked even younger than the one who had struck first—and he had reached the Two-Finger Realm.
Before Tianjian and the others could speak, Kuxin spoke as well.
"Amitabha Buddha. Shaolin Temple truly has no shortage of capable people. I have lost this challenge. Songshan Shaolin is worthy of its reputation as the orthodox school under heaven and the pillar of the martial world. Farewell!"
The next moment, without another word, he turned and left with the White-Clad Buddhist and his party.
Faced with this scene, Tianjian and the others stood dumbfounded. They could hardly understand the other side's anticlimactic behavior.
What exactly did Master Kuxin mean???
But the next moment, the many Shaolin Temple disciples couldn't help shouting. They'd won! They'd won! Songshan Shaolin Temple had won!
And they had defeated the renowned White-Clad Buddhist of the martial world!
"Ah! Ah! Ah!"