Demon-Subduing Sleeve VS Formless Finger

Not good!

Tianjian and the others were already furious, but seeing Xuanci, who had clearly been standing behind the crowd, suddenly leap out, they immediately sensed that something was wrong.

Xuanci, Xuancheng, and Xuankong were undoubtedly the hopes of the next generation at Shaolin Temple.

Their talent and strength were, without question, top-tier among their peers.

But that was only in comparison to their peers.

Xuanci was only thirteen years old, a full five or six years younger than the White-Clad Buddhist.

Setting aside the fact that a five or six-year age gap was already a massive disparity, the White-Clad Buddhist was undeniably a genius in terms of strength, meaning the gap between them was likely even greater.

However, before Xuanci could even rush out, another figure moved first.

He lunged forward, opening with the Dragon-Capturing Skill.

Moreover, it was the Dragon-Capturing King, a technique that could only be mastered after reaching the Great Completion stage of the Dragon-Capturing Skill!

He reached out with one hand, devoid of any specific stance or form, yet in that instant, even Monk Kuxin, standing several meters away, felt his heart skip a beat.

What fierce claw energy.

With this level of force, the practitioner must have attained a profound mastery of the Vajra Finger.

And judging by his age, he could be no more than thirteen or fourteen.

Kuxin knew quite a bit about the Songshan Shaolin Temple.

One began with the Arhat Fist, and once mastered, moved on to the Vajra Palm or the Demon-Subduing Staff.

Following this path, one would then be taught advanced techniques like the Great Strength Vajra Palm or the Dragon Subduing Elephant Taming Art.

By the time one reached the Dragon-Capturing Skill, they would have typically learned five or six sets of techniques, a process that normally took ten or even twenty years of effort.

Yet, here was a teenager who not only performed the Dragon-Capturing Skill but had actually mastered the Dragon-Capturing King?

Facing the Dragon-Capturing King combined with the Vajra Finger energy, even the White-Clad Buddhist wore a rare look of gravity.

The force was not strong—it was not even as powerful as Xuanxin, whom he had just defeated—but this claw strike carried a subtle manipulation of energy.

It was a case of moving one part to affect the whole.

If he tried to dodge such a move with simple footwork, it would be impossible; he would be instantly drawn in and followed by the strike. That would make things troublesome for him.

Furthermore, the most important thing was that he was the White-Clad Buddhist Chengkong, the greatest genius of the Putian Shaolin Temple in a hundred years.

If he were to dodge a child of thirteen or fourteen, even if he won, it would not be an honorable victory.

"The Dragon-Capturing Skill? Very well, let me experience the genius of Songshan Shaolin. I will not bully you; I shall use only thirty percent of my internal energy."

With those calm words, the White-Clad Buddhist raised his palm. Though there was no wind, his sleeves inexplicably billowed outward.

The Demon-Subduing Sleeve?

Not far away, Tianjian and the others could not help but widen their eyes.

If the Putian Shaolin Temple possessed a peerless technique, this Demon-Subduing Sleeve was certainly it. Its difficulty was on par with the Formless Calamity Finger of the Shaolin Temple—a top-tier martial art of the highest order.

One sleeve, one claw.

They collided with a roar.

Boom!

The explosive force of their energy shattered the air.

The White-Clad Buddhist's sleeve dissipated, returning to normal.

Xuancheng, however, felt his five fingers go numb. Unable to withstand that force, he was like a speeding car brought to a screeching halt, feeling so wretched he nearly vomited blood.

"Hey! This monk would also like to witness your strength."

A voice rang out—it was Xuanci. Clearly, he had not stopped just because Xuancheng had rushed out first.

His anger had been ignited; how could it be quelled simply by who stepped onto the stage?

"Dragon-Capturing King!!!"

With a low roar, Xuanci stomped his feet, his fingers erupting with incomparably fierce energy as he lunged toward the White-Clad Buddhist's left arm.

The same rigid power erupted, far less fluid than Xuancheng's, but...

At this moment, even Monk Kuxin's expression changed. Another one?

The White-Clad Buddhist smiled. "Well come!"

He raised his left hand, flicking it out in the same Demon-Subduing Sleeve stance.

Boom!

Unlike Xuancheng, Xuanci was unable to withstand that immense power at all. He stumbled back five or six steps, staggered, and fell to the ground.

"Bad guy, take my Demon-Subduing Staff (Vajra Finger)!"

At that moment, several voices rang out in unison. Four iron staves, each weighing over ten jin, whistled through the air, carrying two hundred jin of force combined with the fierce, unyielding Dragon Subduing Elephant Taming Art as they crashed down.

Within the shadows of the staff, a small figure emerged, imbued with the aura of a Vajra, striking out with a single, lethal Vajra Finger.

If Xuancheng, who had attacked first, and Xuanci, who followed, were geniuses among geniuses, then these five, though slightly inferior, were certainly worthy of the title of genius as well.

At this moment, Kuxin, standing behind, could not help but mutter to himself.

Had North Shaolin been fed steroids?

They had been silent for a hundred years, only to erupt all at once?

On the field, facing the onslaught, the White-Clad Buddhist could not help but draw a breath, a divine light flickering in his eyes.

These few before him, especially the one who had struck first—if not for the vast gap in their ages, the outcome would truly have been unpredictable.

He rolled his hands, and his Demon-Subduing Sleeve unfurled once more.

In an instant, accompanied by several explosive cracks, Xuanji and the others were unable to withstand the force and were sent tumbling backward.

At this moment, Xuancheng and Xuanci had recovered.

The two took a deep breath and lunged forward again.

Xuancheng continued to use the Dragon-Capturing King, while Xuanci switched to the Vajra Finger; attacking from left and right, the two closed in on the White-Clad Buddhist in a pincer movement.

"Well fought!"

Watching their coordination, the White-Clad Buddhist's calm expression rarely broke into a smile as he raised his Demon-Subduing Sleeve.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In an instant, the three were locked in a fierce melee.

The next moment, Xuanji and the others caught their breath and charged in without a moment's hesitation.

Demon-Subduing Staff, Vajra Finger, Dragon-Capturing King.

The seven surrounded the White-Clad Buddhist, exhausting every technique and giving their all.

Though trapped in the encirclement, the White-Clad Buddhist remained calm and composed. He wielded his Demon-Subduing Sleeve like an impenetrable wall, blocking the seven of them at every turn.

Even though the Xuan-generation disciples were ganging up on him, neither Songshan Shaolin nor Putian Shaolin spoke a word.

The gap between them was simply too vast.

Had the White-Clad Buddhist not been holding back, Xuancheng and the others likely wouldn't have survived a single move.

Even with only thirty percent of his power, the seven found it incredibly difficult to resist. The White-Clad Buddhist's Demon-Subduing Sleeve was truly breathtaking; even Abbot Tianjian and the others couldn't help but sigh, marveling at the luck of Putian to have found such a disciple.

As the battle raged, the lay disciples and the Xuan-generation disciples of Songshan Shaolin Temple all clenched their fists tightly.

They wanted to cheer, but feared distracting them.

Yet, there was no doubt that everyone's heart was burning with intense excitement.

To be honest, the moment Xuanxin was defeated without any suspense, they had felt not only worry and anger, but also a sense of helplessness.

After all, the White-Clad Buddhist was of the same generation and similar age as them. Yet, the highly renowned Xuanxin had gone up and been severely wounded without lasting a single move; the blow to their morale had been immense.

Now that Xuancheng and the seven had stepped up, despite the fact that it was a group attack, the age gap was undeniable—a five or six-year difference was even more significant than the decade between a twenty-year-old and a thirty-year-old.

To be able to fight like this, they were undoubtedly worthy of their status within Shaolin Temple.

The others knew better than anyone that these few were special, and in truth, some had been quite unconvinced before.

But at this moment, that resentment had vanished.

Xuancheng and his companions were truly worthy!!!

Standing before the crowd, Li Su felt miserable—miserable to the point of wanting to die.

These seven bastards had really screwed him over; they had screwed him over royally.

He almost wanted to stomp his feet.

Especially when Xuanci moved, Xuancheng followed, and Xuannan and the others went to find weapons—in that instant, Li Su's entire mentality exploded.

These seven idiots had charged in headlong, but what about him? What about him?

What was he supposed to do?

Join in?

Join in, my foot! Use the Cotton Palm?

Use it for what?

Xuancheng and the others were only alive because that monster was holding back. What if Li Su went up and the opponent decided to go all out?

Bet his life on the mercy of his opponent? Unless Li Su was dead, that was absolutely impossible.

But if he didn't go?

It might be fine for now, but in a while, how would his fellow disciples view him? How would his masters view him?

His peers would inevitably question him, leading to endless trouble, and in the eyes of his elders, he would at the very least lack the spirit of a warrior. The sect was being attacked, and he remained indifferent? Could such a disciple even be cultivated?

After all, in everything, the most feared thing is comparison, right?

He just wanted to practice his martial arts in peace; was that request so high? Was it?

Just as Li Su was feeling incredibly conflicted, the battlefield reached its conclusion.

After all, they were young and their internal energy was insufficient.

Once the heat of the moment passed, their Arhat True Qi could no longer keep up.

Bang!

Even for the White-Clad Buddhist, facing a siege while exerting only thirty percent of his power, he dared not be careless or hold back.

With a loud thud, Xuannan and the others were the first to be sent flying, coughing up blood mid-air.

"You dog!"

Xuanci exploded with rage. Xuannan and the others were his best brothers, and he still remembered vividly how the opponent had attacked that lay disciple and Xuanxin earlier—how could he accept this?

Xuancheng was clearly the same. His face was filled with immense fury; he was a martial arts fanatic and not good at expressing his emotions, but that did not mean he did not care for Xuannan and the others.

The two men were incensed, their momentum surging once more. Xuanci channeled the Dragon-Capturing King again, while Xuancheng's finger strength became even more expansive.

Almost simultaneously, the two men lunged with their claws, moving in perfect, telepathic unison toward the White-Clad Buddhist.

Hm?

The White-Clad Buddhist's expression changed, a rare sight. He could not block this strike with only thirty percent of his power, so he had no choice but to increase it by another level.

He met them head-on with a forty-percent-power Demon-Subduing Sleeve.

However, unfortunately, it was quite obvious.

Although Xuancheng and the others were strong, they had exerted too much power during the fight. In truth, they were no better off than Xuannan and his group. Just as their energy rose, their strength vanished, and their fierce claw energy dissipated in an instant.

Oh no!!!

The expressions of Tianjian and the others changed drastically. There was no doubt that Xuancheng and Xuanci were the future pillars of the Shaolin Temple.

Not far away, Kuxin frowned at this moment.

Xuanxin was fine, but these few who had appeared were different. In truth, the ones who had been knocked away didn't matter much, but Xuancheng and Xuanci were the absolute backbone of North Shaolin. If any harm came to them, it would be a true catastrophe.

Just as both sides were about to strike, a figure lunged into the fray.

He shot a massive glare at Xuancheng and Xuanci—you two idiots, you're going to get me killed!

Damn it, is the power of this Demon-Subduing Sleeve even greater than before?

Feeling the energy radiating from the White-Clad Buddhist, Li Su felt a pain in his teeth, his stomach, and his liver.

Cotton Palm? No chance.

Arhat Fist? No chance.

Arhat True Qi? Risky.

Then, what else could he use?

Taking a breath, Li Su raised his hand, gathering his internal energy. He extended his index and middle fingers, five layers of energy swirling around them, bound into one.

Silently, he pointed.

The most difficult finger technique to master in the Shaolin Temple, the most rigid and fierce finger technique in the world.

Two-Finger Formless!

This simple strike stunned Tianjian and the others, and stunned Kuxin even more.

Formless Calamity Finger!!!

Hm???

On the field, the White-Clad Buddhist's face changed for the first time. This silent finger strike exerted immense pressure on him, as if a blade of death were pressed against his throat, causing the hair all over his body to stand on end.

"One Sleeve Subdues Demons!"

He suddenly surged his power, doubling it to meet the energy of Li Su's strike.

Boom!

With a violent explosion, an indescribable burst of energy erupted.

One concentrated, the other expansive; they clashed fiercely. For a split second, the void between the two men could be seen distorting to the naked eye—a phenomenon caused by the collision of excessively powerful energy.

Thud!

Li Su's finger energy was broken; after all, the gap in their cultivation was too great, and it had only held for a second.

However, that was enough.

He grabbed the two idiots who had rushed out and dragged them back, dodging the blast of the Demon-Subduing Sleeve.

Without waiting for the White-Clad Buddhist to speak, Li Su dragged Xuancheng and the other away without a hint of stopping, running straight into the mountain gate and vanishing in a flash.

Watching Li Su disappear so quickly, the White-Clad Buddhist did not pursue; he simply stood there, stunned.

Although in terms of cultivation, he had won—no, he should say he had crushed them.

But in terms of destructive power, it was truly worthy of being the world's number one finger technique.

Should he say as expected of North Shaolin? The leading authority of the righteous path, their reputation was well-deserved.

Taking a deep breath, the White-Clad Buddhist pressed his palms together. "Amitabha. In this battle, this poor monk has been defeated."

Xuancheng was one thing; when they were thirteen or fourteen, their strength had been comparable. But that finger from Li Su had completely surpassed his imagination.

The Formless Calamity Finger—a technique even harder to master than the Demon-Subduing Sleeve—not only had the other party succeeded in cultivating it, but...

As a member of Putian Shaolin, the White-Clad Buddhist knew that the Formless Calamity Finger was divided into realms: the First Finger of Final Calamity and the Two-Finger Formless. Only upon reaching the second finger could one be considered to have truly entered the hall and stepped into the room.

Having practiced the Demon-Subduing Sleeve for seven or eight years, he himself had only just reached the stage of subduing demons with a single sleeve and had yet to attain the peak realm of the technique. And the other party? He looked even younger than the one who had attacked first, yet he was already in the Two-Finger Realm.

Before Tianjian and the others could speak, Kuxin also opened his mouth.

"Amitabha. Shaolin Temple truly produces many talented people. This visit to the mountain was my loss. Songshan Shaolin is worthy of its reputation as the orthodox sect of the world and the titan of the martial arts circle. Farewell!"

The next moment, without saying a single superfluous word, he turned around and left with the White-Clad Buddhist and his party.

Faced with this scene, Tianjian and the others were stunned; they found this anticlimactic behavior truly impossible to understand.

What exactly did Master Kuxin mean?

However, the next moment, the many disciples of Shaolin Temple could not help but shout out. They had won! They had won! Songshan Shaolin Temple had won!

Moreover, they had defeated the famous White-Clad Buddhist of the martial arts world!

"Ah! Ah! Ah!"