In the Bamboo Grove outside Southern Shaolin.
Zhang Wuji stood before a group of people. "Southern Shaolin killed so many of our Ming Cult brothers. Today, it's time to settle this blood debt."
"Everyone, get ready. Remember, you have only fifteen minutes. Once those fifteen minutes are up, retreat immediately."
"Yang Left Envoy, Grandfather, Uncle, I'll leave Southern Shaolin's other experts to you. I'll hold off that Holy Monk."
Yin Tianzheng sighed. He also knew why Zhang Wuji was in such a hurry: they had offended the Sun Moon Holy Cult as well.
The Sun Moon Holy Cult was nowhere near as weak as Southern Shaolin. Its power was even greater, and that Right Envoy in particular, Lin Lang, the Imperial Preceptor of Great Ming, possessed even more terrifying talent than Zhang Wuji.
If they waited for the Sun Moon Holy Cult to act, the Ming Cult would truly be finished.
They might as well attack Southern Shaolin now and show their strength. They could avenge themselves while letting the Sun Moon Holy Cult know that the Ming Cult was not to be trifled with.
Zhang Wuji hefted the Dragon Saber. "I'll go on ahead."
Before Southern Shaolin's gates, Zhang Wuji slashed downward, and earth-shaking saber aura descended from the sky.
Boom!
!
Southern Shaolin's main gates shattered with a thunderous crash. Many monks escaped the blade itself, only to be injured by its aftershocks.
Master Miaodi was startled by the commotion. "Zhang Wuji, you dare come and run wild at Southern Shaolin again?!"
Had Zhang Wuji gone mad, actually storming Southern Shaolin alone? Did he think their Holy Monk was a fraud?
"Southern Shaolin shelters filth and corruption. Yuan Zhen ruined our Ming Cult's name, yet you still deny it."
"I don't need evidence anymore. In any case, the