Volume Two: Blood on the Bodhi Tree, Chapter Three: Who Is a Martial Arts Master?

Everyone present froze for an instant.

The masked woman already had her broadsword in hand and was about to charge in, but when she saw Xiao Yan make an OK gesture at her, she had no choice but to frown and stop to observe.

"Impossible!" Yan Wang frowned deeply, utterly unable to understand how the other man had slipped past that strike.

He had not used his full strength, true, but anyone whose inner cultivation was below the tenth level should have died without exception.

Could the boy really be a master?

Then the crooked-faced brute frowned as well, and his expression changed drastically. He shouted, "Old man Yan Wang, be careful. That movement technique looks a bit like the Vajra Temple's Muscle-Bone Reforging Scripture. Do not underestimate him!"

"Hmph. Only eighth-level inner power... no matter how strong his footwork is, he still cannot withstand it..." Yan Wang shook his head. This time, he showed no mercy and slashed out with all his strength in an instant.

Though he did not fully understand how someone with only eighth-level inner power could possibly cultivate that scripture, the standard by which this martial world measured things remained the strength of one's inner power.

Yan Wang's blade art!

To send you to your death at the third watch, never to see the fifth!

This blade art was infamous across the martial world; countless renowned experts had fallen beneath it.

At the very least, when the smiling Yan Wang's inner power surpassed his opponent's, he was almost invincible. On that point, he had confidence.

The broadsword whirled through the air, its howling wind like a screech that stung the ears.

"Heh heh, who would have thought the smiling Yan Wang would take this seriously, and against nothing more than an eighth-level little monk," one of the brutes laughed. Then he added, "That monk will probably be lucky just to have a whole corpse. What a pity..."

The crooked-faced brute, however, shook his head. He also felt that this move was a bit excessive, but his instincts told him it had to be done.

Perhaps only those who had stood at the edge of life and death could possess such instincts.

"Take the money and the goods! Just stop killing people... Please, everyone, leave us some way to live..." The burly merchant pleaded with despair. "If you kill people, you will not end well either... The authorities will surely investigate..."

"Haha, brother, we've already killed so many. Do you think a few more will make any difference? Do you know why he's called Yan Wang?"

The crooked-faced brute pointed at the old man, then said, "Because he never leaves anyone alive. To see him is like meeting death itself."

"This... Spare us..."

It was at that moment that the broadsword came crashing down toward Xiao Yan.

"Yan Wang blade art—Death-Dealing Wild Slash! Die!"

When Yan Wang killed, he especially liked to smile. Yet his grin was the opposite of the kindly facade he usually wore; this smile was fierce and despairing, the smile of a predator.

This time, Yan Wang was certain the boy could not evade it again, and the little monk still stood motionless, with no chance left to dodge.

He must be terrified out of his wits by now, Yan Wang thought. Tremble before me to your heart's content...

But just as the smiling Yan Wang's blade swung down, he sensed the little monk move, and the weapon in those hands changed again...

"Heh heh... it's been a long time since I last fought..." Xiao Yan's lips curved slightly. In his hand, the waste-picker transformed in an instant into eighteen different weapons.

Yet whenever Xiao Yan circulated his inner power, he always felt a faint pain in his dantian. He did not know why, but he had no time to worry about it.

Long-lost martial arts.

Arhat Formation, single-player mode!

"Clang..."

In an instant, blade light and sword shadow flashed so dazzlingly that it made one's eyes blur.

The smiling Yan Wang's mighty, surging blade art vanished without a trace at once, while the little monk seemed to split into eighteen Arhats, endlessly changing stance and weapons.

The others could only see sparks exploding where weapons met, along with the ceaseless ring of metal on metal...

All of it happened in a single instant, before anyone had time to react.

"Ding..."

The broadsword flew away in a flash and stuck into the ground at the feet of one of the brutes, so frightening him that his trousers were instantly soaked...

"Whose blade is that? That... that's Yan Wang's blade..."

Someone cried out in alarm.

"This... how is that possible..."

One brute stared wide-eyed at the front, incredulous as he looked at the smiling Yan Wang, whose hands were now empty...

Once, that brute had held Yan Wang up as his idol, striving every day to become as formidable as he was.

Though the smiling Yan Wang was not considered a top expert within the Demon Heaven Cult, he was still someone to look up to.

And yet, in just that instant.

His idol had lost?

Impossible!

The facts were impossible to believe. The little monk's inner power was only at the eighth level.

Bang... crash...

Xiao Yan merely lifted a foot, and the smiling Yan Wang was sent flying, hanging from a tree.

Even now, the smiling Yan Wang still could not understand how he had lost...

It felt less like he had fought a little monk and more like he had fought eighteen little monks...

Was he the one who had grown old? Or had this world changed?

Eighth level against twenty-second level, and he was left completely unscathed?

This was not fighting at all; it was outright crushing...

As the saying goes, one is free from doubt by thirty, but he was already past the Mandate of Heaven and somehow beginning to doubt life itself...

If he knew that even the famed wandering hero Chen Bubiao would become nothing but a heap of filth in Xiao Yan's hands, he might have felt a little better...

"Heh... I told you, didn't I? I'm a martial arts expert! Why wouldn't you believe me? There, do you believe it now?"

Xiao Yan said with a smile, brushing the dust from his clothes, then gave a thumbs-up toward the merchant and the masked woman nearby, looking quite pleased with himself.

After all, showing off felt wonderful.

"Wonderful, little master... I never would have imagined... thank goodness for you..." The burly merchant came over joyfully, finally seeing a glimmer of hope.

Because her face was covered, the masked woman could not be read, but she frowned and walked over beside Xiao Yan, seeming to acknowledge his skill as well.

"Hahaha... impressive!"

The crooked-faced brute stepped forward a few paces and clapped, saying, "It was I who misjudged you. In the martial world I am known as the Crooked-Faced Demon... May I ask the little master’s honored name?"

"I am Xiao Yan!" the little monk said with a smile.

Hmm?

The crooked-faced man frowned. Unlike the smiling Yan Wang, he was well-informed, and his methods were also more measured.

Others might not have heard of the name Xiao Yan, but he had.

Some time ago, during disaster relief, the ten great sects had all lost to a mysterious figure, and that mysterious figure was named Xiao Yan, a monk.

Every trait pointed to it: the little monk before him was that mysterious person.

The leaders of the ten great sects had described him as appearing out of nowhere. When no one had noticed, he had in fact already planned every countermeasure, overturning the table in an instant and catching everyone completely off guard.

And the methods he used were wholly unimaginable... a total madman...

"You are Xiao Yan? Heh... what a pity... then I must kill you!" The Crooked-Faced Demon frowned and gave a quiet laugh.

Originally, he had really intended to befriend this little monk. After all, in the martial world, one more friend means one more road. But now he had only one choice... kill this little monk, and the ten great sects would owe him a favor.

"Boss."

The remaining dozen-odd brutes also began to realize that Xiao Yan was not simple at all, so they came over beside the Crooked-Faced Demon and asked.

The Crooked-Faced Demon said nothing, merely giving them a subtle hand signal: kill!

All together!

"Heh... what a pity... I won't let you live either." Xiao Yan frowned, pointing at the corpses on the ground. "These were all killed by you, weren't they?"

"Then enough talk! Come on!"

As soon as the words fell, the dozen brutes surged forward.

"We'll join too. You take the left, I'll take the right," the masked woman suddenly said in a low voice, gripping her blade.

But Xiao Yan shook his head, sneered, and said, "Haha, if you're a man, you should do what men are supposed to do. Step back. Leave it to me."

"Are you insane?" the masked woman snapped with a frown. "Their individual strength may not be great, but if they all attack together, even twenty-fifth-level inner power may not be enough!"

Xiao Yan remained stubborn, reaching out to block the woman and the merchant behind him...

Only...

When Xiao Yan carelessly stretched out a hand to stop the masked woman, his hand accidentally pressed against her chest, then brushed it twice before reluctantly withdrawing.

Yes, with one hand, it fit everything perfectly...

"Pervert!"

The masked woman was about to erupt on the spot, but the attack from across had already come, so she could only flush red and bite it back.

Still, she was angry now; even if the little monk died this time, she swore she would not lift a finger.

Xiao Yan was obviously not doing it on purpose, and he also had no mind to savor the lingering softness in his palm, because his opponents had already reached him.

"Heh..."

Xiao Yan instantly transformed the waste-picker into a sword.

The starting form of the excrement-picking sword art—Swallow Return!

This was the foundation of his ultimate technique, Wind-Dancing Heavenly Soar.

"Hm? The Chen family sword art?" The Crooked-Faced Demon on the other side widened his eyes.

He recognized this sword art. Back when it was still unknown, Chen Buban had used this very move to kill his master.

At that time, he had been so terrified he wet his pants.

Fortunately, Chen Buban was not a man who slaughtered the innocent indiscriminately. After ordering him to leave the Demon Heaven Cult, he let him go.

But how could he have been willing to accept that?

Now that he saw this move again, even the Crooked-Faced Demon's hands began to tremble slightly. Still, he had to overcome it. Someday he would have to kill Chen Buban and avenge his master.

And yet... even saying that, he still did not believe he could truly take revenge. After all, Chen Buban was far too strong...

But how could this little monk know such a sword art?

When he had investigated the disaster-relief affair, no one had said the little monk knew martial arts at all.

"I don't care who you are. Today, you die!"

The Crooked-Faced Demon narrowed his eyes, and the broadsword in his hand reached Xiao Yan's face in an instant.

And the brutes behind him surged forward at that very moment...