Lin Lang's words suddenly made Zhang Sanfeng feel that all his previous choices had been wrong.
If he had firmly supported Zhang Cuishan back then, paying no heed to the Six Major Sects, would his favorite disciple have survived?
If he had spoken to Wooden Daoist sooner, would Wudang Mountain have avoided the scandal of fellow disciples killing one another?
Regret was useless now, but Zhang Wuji was still alive. Was he supposed to watch Zhang Wuji die?
"Right Envoy Lin, after all that talk, you simply want my Wudang Mountain to clash with Southern Shaolin, preferably coming to blows, don't you?" Zhang Sanfeng suddenly asked.
Lin Lang shook his head slightly. "Reverend Zhang, you underestimate me."
"When I was in the mid Heaven-Man Realm, I could fight Song Que until we both suffered injuries. Now I'm in the late Heaven-Man Realm, and I'm already breaking through toward the Heavenly Realm Peak. With a body far stronger than any of yours, do you think I can't hold off that sweeping monk from Shaolin?"
"How many experts does Southern Shaolin have left? Zhang Wuji killed some, those Jianghu sects that suddenly emerged this time killed some more, and I killed some when they went to Northern Shaolin."
"In terms of top-level strength, I'm in the late Heaven-Man Realm, and I have several friends in the Heaven-Man Realm. For our core strength, we have seven Great Grandmaster Realm experts, including two peak Great Grandmasters. At the lower levels, our Sun Moon Holy Cult and its affiliated forces have twenty thousand followers. Every one of them can practice First-Class Martial Arts, and they also understand hidden weapons, Poison-Coating, and so on. Can Southern Shaolin compare to my Sun Moon Holy Cult?"
"If I wanted to destroy Southern Shaolin, would I need to use