"Gongming, why don’t you leave." Although Master Wu was scared pale, he also knew that he was now completely a burden.
"Do not worry, Master." Xu Qing was as calm as an abyss.
"Sky Wolf King, if you don’t stay put on Wolfju Mountain and appear within my Liao Dong territory, you are truly courting death." Xu Qing’s voice seed to overshadow the montum of thousands of troops.
Han Tai, the Scholar Lei, and others were invigorated by this.
After all, it was Xu Liushou.
"Hahaha, recently I’ve often heard it said that if one hasn’t t Xu Gongming in life, even if declared a hero, it’s all in vain. Seeing you today, your great reputation is indeed not unfounded."
A person appeared in the vision of Xu Qing and others riding an unusually tall dark red-black horse, with an indescribably relaxed deanor.
His presence was like a god and demon ruling the grasslands, suddenly descending to the mortal world.
He didn’t intentionally disdain all beings, but it would make people subconsciously see themselves as insignificant in his presence.
Even the experts of Refining Internal, compared to him, seed like two completely different forms of life.
In his deep eyes, there was not a trace of worldly weariness, but profound loneliness.
This was the Sky Wolf King, Fu Xuan.
He wasn’t a mber of any grassland tribe, raised by wolves since childhood, and no one knows whether his bloodline was of the grasslands or the Han.
Regardless of the ti, even in the harsh winter, he only wore a simple coarse hemp robe, his majestic form exuding the aura of a sky-piercing pillar.
With his appearance, the heavens seed like the top of his household tent.
Though he was over a hundred years old, his jet-black hair and muscles, resembling marble sculptures, still demonstrated his astonishing vitality.
This was the most brilliant life on the grassland in a hundred years, absolutely not sothing any human effort could carve out.
Facing this most dazzling figure of the grassland over the past century, Xu Qing showed not the slightest trace of fear.
"We are about to engage in a great battle with the Black Mountain Old Demon, intending to eliminate the hidden dangers of this battle. The Sky Wolf King cos without invitation, fitting nicely into our trap."
As he finished speaking.
Fu Xuan couldn’t help but glance sideways.
Unknowingly, a monk stood with his hands behind his back, exuding a transcendental deanor of dominion over the world, disdainful of all beings. And though Fu Xuan appeared young, this person was genuinely at the peak of life, as radiant as the scorching sun, breaking through all ice and frost.
"You are Xiong Chan." Fu Xuan’s leisurely expression vanished in an instant.
When facing Xu Qing, he still held confidence in surpassing the opponent, but with the ergence of another newly arisen Martial Saint, Xiong Chan, in the past century, and facing the Empire’s Twin Pillars of the current Great Yu,
Even with all his might, as the renowned Sky Wolf King, at this mont, his aura was undoubtedly undermined.
The grassland tribes behind him had little room for intervention in front of a Martial Saint, a presence capable of altering the fate of nations.
After all, before the blood and Qi of a Martial Saint were exhausted, ordinary attacks could hardly cause substantial harm to him.
Of course, no Martial Saint would be foolish enough to fall into the encirclent of a great army.
One could only say that upon reaching the level of a Martial Saint, the real-world destructive power is exceedingly terrifying.
When dealing with experts of Dao Skill, the military’s Blood Killing still had room for effectiveness, however, the Martial Saint was naturally unaffected by such Blood Killing.
However, the Martial Saint often has Spirit and Body Integration and absolutely no chance for reincarnation and awakening of innate wisdom; if they cannot break through to Human Immortal in their lifeti, even taking potent Life Extension Holy dicine will not let them live beyond one hundred and fifty years.
On the other hand, Dao Skill experts have a greater ability to influence hearts, establish altars, organize followers, and can stir up enormous montum, potentially burying a dynasty at its end.
And Dao Skill experts focus on grasping the existence of "self" and pursuing true Longevity.
In short, a Martial Saint has height, a Ghost Immortal has length.
While the Primordial Spirit Dao is said to combine the advantages of both Martial Saints and Ghost Immortals, once a Primordial Spirit Body is cultivated, it can stay in the world for a long ti, and can condense into form or dissipate into Qi, changing endlessly.
Fu Xuan’s gaze deeply fell upon Xiong Chan, as if beyond the vastness of the world, nothing else existed.
His profound gaze seed to flicker with the most profound wisdom of the grassland.
Then, abruptly, with no warning, he threw a punch.
In the contest of top masters, there is essentially no difference between taking the initiative and reacting, the key lies in whether one can detect flaws in the opponent’s montum.
Fu Xuan’s strike clearly captured a flaw in Xiong Chan’s montum, though it couldn’t be called a gap.
This was because Xu Qing was beside Xiong Chan.
Because Xu Qing was nearby, Xiong Chan inevitably lacked the complete abandon, not having Fu Xuan’s ultimate courage in a life-for-life gamble.
This was due to human nature.
This punch was also a pure and simple interpretation of the Great Dao, directly blocking all possible subsequent changes for Xiong Chan, leaving only the option of a head-on clash.
Even Xu Qing was separated from the battlefield of the two dueling n.
The intense and terrifying surge of energy released seed to place Xu Qing and Fu Xuan in different ti-spaces.
Xiong Chan indeed did not dodge.
Faced with this veteran Grassland Martial Saint.
Xiong Chan struck with a palm.
Prajnaparamita Palm.
This was the highest embodint of Buddhist Law in the Great Zen Temple, unless the nearly mythical Tathagata Divine Palm appeared, the Prajnaparamita Palm was already the epito of Buddhist Martial Arts in the present world.
Prajnaparamita represents the wisdom to perceive things and the origin of all things as they truly are.
Xiong Chan’s palm strike followed a trajectory aligned with the profound principles of heaven and earth, appearing exquisitely minute, yet kept expanding, as if suddenly imnse, filling the line of sight of everyone present.
When the fist t the palm.
There was no earth-shattering sound as everyone had anticipated.
No, more precisely, at that mont, apart from the two Martial Saints and Xu Qing, everyone lost their sense of hearing, trapped in a terrifying silence, as though deaf.
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