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墨書 Inktalez
I was filled with worry about the situation here, but I could only see through his gaze, leaving me unaware of what was happening outside or how my brothers and sisters were faring. The methods of the Evil Spirit Cult were incredibly cruel, and I had no idea if they could handle it.
He said ominously, "Let's deal with you first!" With that, he instantly appeared in front of my master, delivering another palm strike to the same injured spot. My master couldn't dodge in time and spat out a mouthful of blood, his body flying back like a broken sack.
He wiped the blood from his face and licked it off his fingers, displaying an expression of sheer enjoyment.
Feng Daoist cursed under his breath and charged at him with his sword drawn. The expressions of the Old Man and Wu Lao grew serious as their movements quickened.
They probably hadn't expected his power to reach such heights. He casually struck out three palms toward them, and to my shock, these figures I regarded as powerful were sent flying without putting up any resistance.
He chuckled, "I was just playing with you before, warming up a bit. I didn't expect you old fellows to have made no progress over the years. In my opinion, you're not even at your former level."
As I watched him walk slowly toward my master, I felt as if I might explode from anxiety. Truth be told, my father had accompanied me throughout my childhood, providing me with carefree moments. My master played an indispensable role in my growth; he was both teacher and friend. In my heart, he was also like a father to me.
During those days in the Immortal Cave, although my master wasn't often by my side, he was meticulous in both daily life and teaching.
He crouched down in front of my master, seemingly enjoying the game of cat and mouse, taking his time before striking. He smiled and said, "To repay your kindness from twenty years ago, I plan to leave you with a complete corpse." His fingers curled into claws as he reached for my master's heart. All I could do was shout helplessly into the void, unable to do anything.
For a moment, I wished that my master had killed us all back then; perhaps this situation wouldn't have arisen.
But even with my eyes closed in denial, I could still clearly see his hand—white as a ghost's claw—descending toward my master. Just then, a rapidly spinning Buddhist bead struck his hand. The bead spun like a bullet shot from a gun, piercing through his palm.
He showed no sign of pain on his face; instead, he raised his hand to inspect the hole and smiled. "So you finally couldn't resist showing yourself?"
A bald monk appeared from outside, dressed in a gray Zhongshan suit and looking about the same age as my master. He stood straight-backed without any sign of aging.
"It's not too late to finish what I started twenty years ago," the monk said cheerfully, as if taking a leisurely stroll in his garden after dinner, completely unfazed by the tension.
The Old Man and Wu Lao struggled to their feet and called out, "Qin!"
It dawned on me then that this was the extremely mysterious figure from the Special Investigation Bureau. So he was also a monk? Could monks even work in government agencies?
Qin spoke to himself, "Back then, I had Ji Xiansheng read an oracle and learned roughly which direction you would escape towards. So, I instructed my junior brother to pursue you in that direction. I repeatedly reminded him not to be merciful, yet he ultimately chose to seal you instead, sparing that child."
He then looked at his master lying on the ground and shook his head. "Junior brother, why go through all this?"
His master remained silent on the ground, at which point Feng Daoist helped him up. "Elder brother, saving a life is worth more than building a seven-story pagoda. When Ling Feng smiled at me back then, I couldn't bear it."
He seemed unable to contain himself; in comparison, he appeared to harbor more hatred for Qin. From the moment Qin arrived, his gaze was fixed on him, with a rare hint of apprehension in his eyes.
Qin said, "Listen to the commotion outside and look at your subordinates. I advise you to give up resisting; it would be better for you, for me, and for everyone."
He threw back his head and laughed. "Keep dreaming your grand dreams! I will stand and die rather than kneel and live! And do you really think you can keep me here?"
With that, he formed hand seals, and a massive blood-red figure emerged behind him—Three Heads and Six Arms. The figure's previously closed eyes suddenly opened wide as he chanted incantations.
Two beams of blood-red light shot through the void towards Qin.
Qin's body moved like drifting willow fluff, constantly shifting under the assault of the two beams of light. I recognized this as the Great Shift technique; however, its application on me was vastly different from its use on Qin.
I observed Qin's steps and breathing closely and realized that everything about him was so natural and harmonious. He utilized even the slightest movements of the air—leaning his body, tilting his head, or raising a hand.
After a series of evasive maneuvers, the blood-red beams gradually dimmed. He sneered, "What’s wrong? Are you only good at hiding now?"
Qin smiled slightly and took out a Vajra, spinning it rapidly as he charged towards him. "Let me see how much you've improved since your reincarnation."
The Vajra spun quickly, with the beads hanging from it clashing together rhythmically. He pressed both hands against the top of the Vajra and began rotating it in the opposite direction.
After a struggle of strength, the Vajra surprisingly came to a standstill. Although both Qin and he maintained their composure, the veins on their hands revealed they were locked in a contest of power.
Ultimately, with a muffled grunt, the Vajra shattered. Qin staggered back a few steps before regaining his balance while he merely stumbled slightly.
The outcome was clear: Qin was no match for him. My heart sank. If even Qin couldn't contend with him, then it seemed unlikely that anyone else would survive.
Qin shook his head and said, "After so many years without activity, I didn't expect to run into you right when I started moving again. I guess I've grown old and useless."
"You're quite perceptive. However, I’m not so kind as to let you go," he said, his arrogance evident as he charged directly towards Qin.
Qin employed the simplest form of the Luohan Fist. Each punch and movement appeared straightforward, yet in reality, it was filled with endless variations. The clash of fists and palms produced a series of thunderous sounds, powerful enough to shatter eardrums.
As the two were locked in a fierce battle, outside, Han Che shouted, "The remnants of the Evil Spirit Cult have all been captured!"
"The remnants of the Evil Spirit Cult have all been captured!"
"The remnants of the Evil Spirit Cult have all been captured!"
...
Soon, everyone gathered around, echoing this phrase in unison. The sound reverberated through the air, shaking the ground like the exhilarating beat of drums in a battlefield confrontation.
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