Hu Xiaotian twisted around and struck with his palm, like a divine dragon sweeping its tail. The blow struck through empty air, altering the flow of air and forming an invisible vortex. Drawn by this unseen force, the Iron Alms Bowl reversed course in midair and hurtled back toward the monk. Hu Xiaotian's internal power was clearly superior to his opponent's. The bowl flew back more than twice as fast, its whining rising into a piercing shriek, its momentum all the more terrifying.
The pitch-black monk flicked his long sleeve, revealing a Long Whip as black as his skin. Scales covered its length, though there was no telling what it was made from. With a shake, the Long Whip cracked like an exploding firecracker, a sound that seemed to tear heaven and earth apart and shake the heart. It writhed through the air and struck the Iron Alms Bowl with unerring accuracy—crack! The force of the lash was exquisitely controlled. The bowl changed direction once more and shot straight toward the back of Hu Xiaotian's head.
With the black-skinned monk's assistance, Gang Baduo recovered from the predicament of being driven back step by step by Hu Xiaotian. Shouts rumbled from his throat. His hands turned blood-red and swelled to more than twice their size, every joint in his body crackling. His face, too, began to flush crimson, and his body grew at a rate visible to the naked eye.
Hu Xiaotian drew the Lone Moon Slash from his waist and hurled it with a whoosh! It flew straight toward the black monk's Iron Alms Bowl. Attacked from both front and rear, Hu Xiaotian showed not the slightest fear; instead, his fighting spirit soared. Such was his nature—the greater the pressure, the fiercer his will to fight. With a furious roar,