Chapter Five: The Fiendish God of Fiery Clouds (Part One)
"Abbot! Are you alright?"
At this moment, Elder Hui Ren of Golden Mountain Temple arrived with several other warrior monks, and the crowd of pilgrims began to gather, eager to witness the commotion.
Yet the scene before them left them stunned, for a man caked in filth was using the Thousand-Year Assassination technique on the abbot...
"Unbelievable!"
In truth, Elder Hui Ren felt a twinge of jealousy. After all, he practiced martial arts with the abbot every night, yet now he found the abbot exchanging moves with another in such a compromising posture.
"Is that Da Vinci?"
It didn’t take long for some of the martial world’s denizens to recognize the infamous figure.
"My heavens... The one known as Da Vinci, the Grandmaster Thief of Excrement! He’s actually come to Golden Mountain Temple to steal? Let’s go, everyone, rid the world of this menace!" A righteous-looking man shouted, brandishing his blade.
"Charge... Kill him!"
The crowd behind echoed his cry with fervor.
...
However, the scene quickly fell into silence, for though their mouths boasted unparalleled courage, their bodies remained rooted in cautious fear...
Not a single soul dared make the first move.
The reputation of the Excrement Thief sent chills down the spines of all. Rumor had it that even the Sword Immortal Li Bai would not risk offending him. The onlookers were nothing more than minor figures in the martial world.
To slay Da Vinci would bring eternal fame...
But nothing in the world was more precious than life itself.
"Look, quick!"
Someone pointed skyward with a shout.
A field of yellow filled everyone’s vision as the Grandmaster Thief stood atop an outhouse, gathering his inner strength.
His ultimate technique!
A Sky of Flying Filth!
"This time, the abbot is doomed..." someone sighed.
Elder Hui Ren called out in alarm, "Eighteen Arhats! To me—where have they gone?"
It was then he realized the Eighteen Arhats had vanished without a trace... Only Xiao Yan stood there, gazing up at the flying spectacle with a hint of longing in his eyes...
"Xiao Yan! Why are you here? Have you seen the Eighteen Arhats?" Elder Hui Ren asked in confusion.
"Oh, they said they ate hairy potatoes and got diarrhea..." Xiao Yan replied earnestly.
"Hairy potatoes? Do potatoes grow hair?" Elder Hui Ren frowned and pondered for a moment, but then dismissed the thought. He turned to Xiao Yan and said, "Come, join me. We must recover the Muscle-Tendon Classic."
Upon hearing this, Xiao Yan silently glanced at him and retreated a step.
Yes, you all go ahead...
Elder Hui Ren snorted in disdain. "Cowardly wretch, afraid of death."
But in truth, he’d never expected much from Xiao Yan, whose inner strength was pitifully weak—his invitation was merely a formality.
The next moment, Elder Hui Ren charged ahead with a dozen warrior monks.
At that moment, the abbot and Da Vinci were locked in a fierce duel.
Both were top-tier masters. Da Vinci, driven by the grudge of a year-long constipation, fought with even greater ferocity...
His fists were as fierce as a tiger’s.
The abbot raised his arms to block, but—
His rebellious stomach rumbled loudly.
The abbot coughed blood from a punch...
Da Vinci seized the opportunity, a sinister smile on his lips, and struck with another Thousand-Year Assassination...
The abbot's stomach grumbled again...
The abbot collapsed.
...
Elder Hui Ren and the other monks had reached the scene.
"Da Vinci! Return the secret manual and you’ll be spared!" Hui Ren shouted in fury, seeing the abbot fallen and motionless.
Da Vinci stared coldly at the dozen Golden Mountain Temple experts before him, a trace of unease flickering in his heart. Even a master could not fend off so many at once, and the abbot had already drained much of his inner strength.
Should he surrender the Muscle-Tendon Classic?
Impossible. He had already begun practicing it, and had made great sacrifices to obtain it...
His shifty eyes darted around, and he spotted a lone, clueless little monk standing nearby—a perfect hostage.
"Humph, not a chance!" Da Vinci bellowed, charging toward the young monk.
A hostage, is it?
Elder Hui Ren shouted, "No! Stop him!"
But their speed was no match for Da Vinci’s.
In a flash, Da Vinci reached the little monk. "Heh, what a bunch of fools..."
The young monk seemed oblivious to the danger, calmly reaching into his robe as if searching for something.
Seeing this, Da Vinci felt a surge of joy. The monk’s bewildered expression showed he hadn’t realized the danger at all.
Elder Hui Ren and the surrounding warrior monks recognized the gesture at once, and a chill ran down their spines. Unconsciously, they all shouted, "Be careful!"
Only after the words left their mouths did they realize their mistake... Why were they warning the enemy?
"Hmph, too late!" Da Vinci sneered, thinking the warning was for the monk. He had already sensed the monk’s inner strength.
Three levels!
Pathetic... A chicken among warriors...
Against his own twenty-five levels of inner strength, the monk would be utterly helpless...
"Damn, that foolish monk is as good as dead!" the martial artists in the crowd shouted anxiously.
Yet the little monk remained unhurried, his hand still inside his robe, seemingly unaware of the looming danger.
How could he possibly defend himself?
Heavens...
How could Golden Mountain Temple have such a hopeless monk?
...
It all happened in an instant.
Before everyone’s eyes, the little monk’s hand traced a graceful arc through the air...
"What is he doing?"
At that critical moment, the next scene stunned everyone.
A burst of white powder flew out...
"Scoundrel!" came Da Vinci’s angry roar.
Caught off guard, Da Vinci instinctively raised his arm to shield himself. In the martial world, he had encountered many underhanded scoundrels, but the precision of this attack was on another level entirely...
This was a master’s throw, a king among lime powder attacks...
Could someone truly train so diligently in such a skill?
It must be noted that even the abbot had once fallen victim to this very move...
Though Da Vinci was a master, he was unable to shield both eyes in time, and one eye was filled with lime powder...
"Who is this person?" the martial artists in the crowd exclaimed, eyes wide.
A mere novice monk had managed to gain the upper hand over Da Vinci, the notorious Grandmaster Thief! This was no small feat...
Such an event would become the talk of the martial world, a tale for idle chatter over tea in the years to come... Their curiosity about this little monk was thoroughly piqued...
Of course, the little monk was none other than Xiao Yan. While Da Vinci was still reeling, Xiao Yan struck out with a swift kick...
A groin strike!
With one eye blinded by lime powder, Da Vinci’s remaining eye couldn’t spot the attack—his vision had a fatal blind spot...
Thud!
The blow wasn’t particularly forceful, but it landed squarely between the legs.
A strange sound followed—not quite the crunch one might expect...
...
Having delivered the kick, Xiao Yan turned and fled...
He ran for some distance before a frown creased his brow.
Strange... That groin kick didn’t seem to hit anything delicate.
Could it be...?
At that moment, the furious Da Vinci was already upon him...