The ones inside the ruined temple truly were elite disciples of the Beggars' Sect. When Shen Changchuan charged in and swept through them like rotten wood, the survivors still quickly mounted a counterattack.
Martial artists never lacked a fierce, fearless spirit.
But unfortunately, that counterattack did not achieve much.
Though the subsequent coordinated counteroffensive looked formidable on the surface, and seemed to pose some threat to Shen Changchuan, in reality, it was still crushed as easily as rotten wood!
With his sharp senses and the perspective granted by a higher realm, the system Shen Changchuan had further developed from the force of external martial arts was brought fully into play.
From beginning to end, the Beggars' Sect's many core disciples failed to so much as touch a corner of Shen Changchuan's clothes.
"Where is Sun Butong? Where did you put the children you bought?"
A quarter of an hour later, over a dozen corpses lay scattered throughout the ruined temple. Shen Changchuan gripped one man's neck, lifted him up, and stared straight into his eyes.
His pitch-black pupils seemed to transform into an endless whirlpool of darkness, like a sharp blade stabbing straight into the depths of the other man's mind.
"In a courtyard outside the eastern part of the city."
The man's eyes rolled white. He seemed to have lost consciousness, yet his mouth unconsciously gave the answer Shen Changchuan sought.
"Who is over there? How strong are they? What are the characteristics of the martial art Sun Butong cultivates? And what are all the uses of the children you buy?"
Shen Changchuan continued questioning him.
After mastering the path of force, Shen Changchuan could make it flow according to his will, wielding it in endlessly varied ways and achieving all manner of effects that could be called inconceivable.