Ye Lin did not reply. He merely slammed his right foot down onto the ground.
In an instant, cracks began to spread across the once-intact ground, and wisps of purple-black mist rose from within them.
"Benefactor, are you truly determined to have a bout with this old monk?"
The instant he saw the purple-black mist, Fu Kong's expression changed slightly, and he sternly called out to Ye Lin.
Ye Lin merely smiled faintly.
"What? Scared already? Beneath your Profound Void Temple, monstrous resentment is being suppressed. If I destroy this formation of yours, do you think that resentment will devour you?"
Ye Lin said with a mocking look.
Logically speaking, ordinary resentment could not do anything to a strange spirit.
Forget strange spirits—ordinary resentment could not even harm cultivators who had only just entered the path of cultivation.
But once the resentment grew dense to a certain degree, it would no longer be ordinary resentment.
When the time came, the resentment would transform into a spirit, its strength undergoing a qualitative leap. Anyone who saw it would have to fear it by three parts.
"Benefactor, if you insist on stirring up trouble, then this old monk can only uphold justice on Heaven's behalf and take you in."
At those words, Fu Kong could no longer endure it.
This person before him had provoked trouble again and again. If he still failed to act, this man would likely keep pushing his luck and making a mountain out of it.
"Dragon-Slaying Art, activate."
Fu Kong roared furiously. The dharma manifestation behind him, whose eyes had originally been closed, suddenly opened them.
Yet its eye sockets were a sea of blood-red, and paired with its golden dharma body, it looked exceedingly bizarre.
As the saying went, the appearance was born from the heart.