On the sandy beach, Monk Yuan'an paid no heed to the surrounding onlookers. Pressing his palms together, he silently chanted an incantation. Within his sea of consciousness, the spiritual glow of his Heart Lamp shone like a wheel, illuminating him within and without.
He had just blessed himself with the Vajra Incantation. Transformed into invisible spiritual light, the spell reinforced his entire body from the outside in, making his flesh as tough as steel.
Golden Leaf Temple traced its lineage to Dalin Temple, the most vital part of which was the complete heritage of the Vajra Palm paired with the Vajra Incantation.
It was precisely on the back of this legacy that Golden Leaf Temple held a firm footing in Yunyang Prefecture.
The Vajra Palm was peerlessly fierce, and when coupled with the Vajra Incantation, it unleashed the supreme, unyielding might of a vajra.
Yuan'an knew Zhou Wuji excelled in swordsmanship. Though he had never seen Zhou Wuji fight in person, he knew sword arts inherently relied on nimble footwork and agile maneuvers.
Even though the duel was confined to a marked circle, he would not underestimate Zhou Wuji. After all, the man's illustrious reputation had been carved out through slaughter.
With so many outsiders watching, a defeat on his part would mean a defeat for Golden Leaf Temple. The weight of that responsibility was immense.
To ensure victory, Yuan'an blessed himself with the Divine Foot Incantation as well. Originally one of Buddhism's Six Divine Powers, successive generations of eminent monks had simplified and refined it into a spell that even a seventh-rank monk could invoke.
The Divine Foot Incantation boosted his speed by at least fifty percent. However, maintaining two incantations at once doubled his mana consumption, making him ill-suited for a protracted battle.
Yuan'an had already settled on his strategy: strike aggressively right from the start to corner Zhou Wuji, giving his opponent no room to maneuver.
Within such a cramped boundary, he was certain he could blast Zhou Wuji out of the circle in ten to twenty exchanges.
Zhou Wuji stepped into the circle and cupped his hands toward Monk Yuan'an. "Please."
Looking down on monks was one thing; failing in courtesy before a crowd would only disgrace himself.
Yuan'an returned the courtesy with palms pressed together. "Compassionate is our Buddha. Please."
Zhou Wuji dispensed with further pleasantries. Without a sword, the martial arts he could use were quite limited.
His Five Tigers Fist was formidable, but it was unsuitable to reveal in public.
Strictly speaking, the Tianshu Hand was not an independent martial style, but rather an exercise for tempering the fingers and palms.
While he could easily trade a few moves with Monk Yuan'an by borrowing the shifting stances of the Xiaoxiang Sword, there was no need.
Circulating true qi through his divine aperture between his brows, Zhou Wuji drew and expelled qi simultaneously across all nine apertures. The Heart Mirror hung high within the depths of his sea of consciousness, reflecting every subtle fluctuation both inside and outside his body.
Through the Heart Mirror, Zhou Wuji could perceive his own state with total clarity, just as he could see through Yuan'an standing seven paces away.
He could clearly sense the spiritual radiance of the incantations clinging to Yuan'an. That light sank deep into Yuan'an's flesh, linking with his internal true qi and rendering his physique increasingly tough and resilient.
Over the past several days, Zhou Wuji had been observing these monks, gaining a solid grasp of their incantations and martial arts.
Facing Yuan'an directly allowed him to see the variations in Golden Leaf Temple's spells and martial techniques with even greater precision.
Zhou Wuji had to admit that the monks' dual cultivation of magic and martial arts was impressive. Their spells were concise, their martial arts powerful, and when combined, they could eradicate evil spirits and ghosts as easily as they could clash head-on with martial artists.
Yet dual cultivation carried a flaw: their spells fell short of Daoist arts, and their martial prowess lagged behind pure martial artists.
Of course, a rare few geniuses could excel in both and outmatch those who specialized in only one.
Yuan'an was clearly not such a genius—at least not in Zhou Wuji's eyes.
When Zhou Wuji struck down Chen Dalu, his methods had been exceedingly refined, but they were backed by absolute personal strength. There had been little reliance on mere tricks.
Though Yuan'an possessed a tall frame and robust vitality, he fell far short of Chen Dalu. Zhou Wuji felt no pressure from him whatsoever.
Though Yuan'an possessed a Heart Lamp, it could only illuminate himself, lacking the power to shed light on Zhou Wuji.
Seeing Zhou Wuji standing still as a rock, Yuan'an parted his palms and stepped forward, driving straight at him.
With one palm leading and one trailing, one feint and one solid blow, he executed the Vajra Mountain Push from the Vajra Palm.
Before Yuan'an even arrived, the surging palm force rolling off his hands reached Zhou Wuji first.
Though the beach was open and empty, the low, thundering roar of the palm force tearing through the air rang clearly in everyone's ears.
Those standing watch were either martial artists or at least thoroughly versed in combat techniques.
Even from a distance, they could tell this strike packed the weight of a thousand jun.
Murmurs of awe broke out among the onlookers. Everyone said the monks of Golden Leaf Temple were ferocious; their past battles against zombies had already proved their prowess, but today this monk displayed a domineering, overwhelming might that exerted tremendous pressure on all who watched.
The members of the branch abbey wore solemn expressions. They all felt this mode of combat placed Zhou Wuji at an extreme disadvantage.
Regardless of their private opinions of Zhou Wuji, at this moment they all hoped he would win.
Seeing the monk charge with such savage momentum, everyone felt a knot of worry.
To the crowd's astonishment, Zhou Wuji neither dodged nor retreated. Instead, he simply raised a hand and unleashed an answering palm strike straight at Yuan'an.
The Northern Dipper Celestial Pivot true qi was pure, balanced, and serene. When Zhou Wuji channeled it through the Tianshu Hand into an invisible palm force, it lacked the flamboyant grandeur of the Vajra Palm.
Yet his total reserve of true qi had reached twenty-four hundred—an exceptionally high level even among the sixth rank. And his divine sense was on an even higher plane.
The condensed palm force flew toward Yuan'an like an invisible, thousand-jun hammer.
With his Heart Lamp, Yuan'an could discern the shifts of the invisible true qi, and even more so, feel the immense weight and density of the incoming blast.
He was thoroughly shocked. How could a seventh-rank cultivator possess such profound true qi?
With no time to overthink, Yuan'an thrust both palms forward, meeting Zhou Wuji's strike across the empty air.
The two palm forces collided with a thunderous boom. Yuan'an was jolted backward three full steps before barely steadying his footing, his bronze, hardened face flushed crimson.
The blunt, jarring collision left his arms numb and his legs trembling. The sheer pressure of the impact turned his eyes bloodshot.
The shockwaves radiating from their clashed strikes tore a crater more than a zhang wide in the sand, sending grit flying dozens of paces away and showering the heads and faces of many onlookers.
The crowd looked on in stunned disbelief. Zhou Wuji was a Daoist, so why was he meeting the monk blow for blow with pure true qi instead of casting spells? And how could his palm force be so overpowering that it drove Yuan'an stumbling back?
Even those without discerning eyes could see that Yuan'an had come off far worse in that exchange.
Monk Xinjue kept his expression neutral, but inwardly he cursed. No wonder Zhou Wuji was so arrogant; his true qi cultivation was terrifyingly deep... It no longer looked like the foundation of a mere seventh rank...
Zhou Wuji was in no hurry to follow up. He had used only fifty percent of his true qi in that palm strike, and though crude and direct, it was more than enough to deal with Yuan'an.
Once Yuan'an caught his breath and blessed himself with another layer of the Vajra Incantation, Zhou Wuji drifted forward three paces and raised his palm once more to deliver an empty strike.
With less than seven paces between them, Yuan'an had no room to dodge or retreat.
Channeling his true qi to the limit, Yuan'an unleashed the Vajra Mountain Push with both hands again. This time, there was no interplay of feint and solid; he channeled every shred of fierce force into both palms.
The two palm forces collided once more. With another booming blast, a large crater erupted in the ground, and Yuan'an staggered backward three steps.
This time, blood seeped from the corners of Yuan'an's mouth, and his dark complexion paled. His knees went so weak they could barely support his frame, forcing him to hunch forward and readjust his stance just to stay on his feet.
Seeing Yuan'an in such a wretched state, Zhou Wuji asked softly, "Do you wish to continue?"
Yuan'an refused to accept defeat. He did not believe Zhou Wuji could sustain such bursts of true qi.
Forming a hand seal, he invoked the Sweet Dew Incantation. A flash of azure light cleared the congested qi and blood inside his chest, restoring strength to his sinews and muscles and rekindling the vigorous vitality in his veins.
Straightening his back, Yuan'an bellowed, "Again!"
Zhou Wuji did not step forward this time; he simply raised his palm and struck across the distance once more.
Eyes wide, Yuan'an raised both hands to counter.
Though the distance between them had widened by three paces, Zhou Wuji's palm force surged like the tide of a mighty river, showing no sign of waning over the gap.
Unable to sustain that level of true qi output, Yuan'an could muster less than eighty percent of his previous palm force. Meanwhile, Zhou Wuji's strike rolled forward like a surging torrent, instantly crushing Yuan'an's palm force into scattering wisps.
The residual force slammed directly into Yuan'an, sending a massive jolt through his body and knocking him back seven paces. When he finally brought himself to a halt, his heels were mere inches from the line drawn in the sand.
Terrified of stepping outside the boundary, Yuan'an dug both feet half a chi deep into the sand, forcing himself to remain upright.
Exerting himself so violently caused blood to leak from his seven facial apertures. His aura withered drastically, and worse, the severe trauma to his internal organs left him gravely injured. Even so, he forced himself to stand straight, silently chanting an incantation to regulate his breathing.
Watching Yuan'an stubbornly hold his ground to keep fighting, Zhou Wuji had to admit that although he disliked monks, this one was undeniably valiant.
The man still had fighting spirit, but unfortunately, he had no strength left to battle.
Zhou Wuji glanced over at the elderly Monk Xinjue, surrounded by his disciples, seeking the abbot's judgment.
He wanted to see whether the old monk would gamble on him running out of true qi, or decisively concede on his disciple's behalf.
Unable to fathom the depths of Zhou Wuji's condition, old Monk Xinjue hesitated briefly before taking the initiative to speak. "Daoist Wuji's cultivation is truly profound. We concede this match."
In the end, the old monk could not bear to watch his disciple throw his life away. Yuan'an was already severely injured; fighting further could easily prove fatal.
An inconsequential wager was not worth such a price.
Hearing his abbot concede, the fighting spirit sustaining Yuan'an vanished. His vision went dark, and he collapsed unconscious.
A throng of monks rushed forward to catch him. Some cast spells, while others administered water and medicine, thrown into a flurry of panic.
Monk Yuanjing strode up before Zhou Wuji and snapped furiously, "Golden Leaf Temple has always maintained cordial ties with Yunlong Branch Abbey! This was a friendly spar—why did you strike with such heavy hands?!"
Yuanjing was one of the Four Vajras of Golden Leaf Temple. Though shorter than Yuan'an, he was leaner and tougher, surpassing Yuan'an in both martial skill and incantation mastery.
He had confronted Zhou Wuji partly out of indignation, but also because he suspected Zhou Wuji had exhausted himself after unleashing consecutive bursts of true qi.
If Zhou Wuji showed any defiance, Yuanjing could challenge him on the spot and reclaim face for his junior brother.
Zhou Wuji saw right through Yuanjing's petty scheme. The monk was short of stature but full of petty calculations, yet Zhou Wuji could not care less.
He asked softly, "Are you sore losers?"
The single question flushed Yuanjing's face a bright crimson. Just as he was about to issue a challenge, old Monk Xinjue let out a cold grunt from behind. "Yuanjing, get back here."
Old Monk Xinjue then pressed his palms together toward Zhou Wuji from a distance and softly chanted a Buddhist invocation, but said nothing more.
Conscious of his status, the old monk could not demean himself by bickering with Zhou Wuji.
Besides, they had lost this match fair and square. If they dragged the matter out, they would truly prove themselves sore losers...
Wuming came trotting over, her face beaming with delight. "Senior Brother, that was amazing!"
She glanced toward the monks of Golden Leaf Temple and lowered her voice. "Those monks are so unreasonable..."
Zhou Wuji chuckled. With so many people around, he could not show too much affection toward Wuming. Though he longed to hold her slender hand, he had to rein himself in.
Having won the wager, the members of Yunlong Branch Abbey cheered with elation—not just to celebrate the victory, but because they could finally return to the branch abbey to rest...
After toiling on Old Dragon Island for days on end, everyone was physically and mentally exhausted.
For that very reason, they all felt deeply grateful to Zhou Wuji.
Even Wu'ai came over to offer a few flattering words, acting exceptionally polite and even somewhat reverent.
Wu'ai had previously refused to accept Zhou Wuji's superior swordsmanship, remaining stubborn even after their spar.
It was only upon witnessing Zhou Wuji cutting down enemies like mowing grass at Yunjiang Tower that day that he had been thoroughly shaken, even terrified.
Seeing Zhou Wuji overwhelm Yuan'an in three palms today made Wu'ai realize the gulf between them was far too vast. Having completely lost any thought of comparing himself to Zhou Wuji, his attitude had turned thoroughly deferential.
In truth, Zhou Wuji had never regarded Wu'ai as an enemy, mainly because he had never paid him any mind. Unbothered by Wu'ai's shift from haughtiness to subservience, Zhou Wuji merely responded with polite courtesies.
Yet no sooner had the group returned to the branch abbey than Zhou Wuji received bad news: Zhiyuan was leaving, and the new abbot had arrived...
Chapter 117