Starting with the divine power of the Great Vajra, he traversed the heavens.

Chapter 582 Weapons Smeared with Gold, Crying for Mother While Slashing!
Seeing Ding'an charge forward with a punch, the old monk sneered and casually flicked his hand, purple light like flames emanating from his palm.

boom!
Ding'an fell to the ground, staggered a few steps, and finally regained his balance.

"Ding'an, your 'Kinnara Fist' was taught to you by this old monk." The sweeping monk landed slowly, and the rising snowflakes condensed into a ball in his palm, spinning rapidly. "What makes you think you can defeat me?"

Ding An's face immediately turned bright red, and he raised his eyebrows, saying, "You old bald thief, you're not teaching me this bird-fist technique out of any good intentions! Do you think I really don't know it?"

The old monk remained calm and sneered, "What? It's my fault that I taught you the Divine Fist?"

Ding An brushed the snow off his clothes and said in a deep voice, "You're just using me as a tool to deal with the cripple and the little beggar!"

The old monk sneered, "Beast!" He waved his hand, and the snowball flew straight away. "Incurable!"

Seeing the snowballs flying towards him, Ding'an suddenly conjured a strange shape in his palm and struck out from thin air.

With a thunderous roar, it was as if gunpowder had exploded inside the arena, and waves of snow surged up.

The snowstorm swept over Ding'an, tearing his clothes to shreds. The ground beneath his feet collapsed, cracking and spreading like a spiderweb, a shocking and terrifying sight.

"Hmph, the cripple is right!" Ding An stomped his feet and countered with a punch, "Your words are like farts, not a single word of them can be believed!"

The sweeping monk's eyes narrowed, and he struck out with his palm, determined to establish his authority; his attack was extremely ruthless.

Ding'an, having been under control for some time, was furious and used all his skills to get what he wanted.

In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged more than a dozen moves, one in the air and one on the ground, using speed to fight each other.

Seeing how fiercely they were fighting, Hongxiu tugged at Shaoyang's sleeve and asked, "Crippled man, did you say that?"

Ren Shaoyang said, "I said 'don't believe it,' I never said 'bullshit.'"

As Ding'an and the old monk unleashed their "Kinnara Fist," their movements a blur of illusion and motion, Hongxiu shook her head and sighed.

Even a severed hand would be embellished.

Before he could finish speaking, Ding'an suddenly shouted, "Take this!" His righteous hand shot out and, through the old monk's palms, delivered a powerful blow that paralyzed half of his body, sending him staggering back three steps!

King Kinnara, who had lived for so long, had never been slapped in the face before. He was stunned.

Wow!
The prosthetic arm flew back, and Ding An laughed heartily: "You old bald thief, how was that slap?!"

Hongxiu clapped and cheered from behind: "Well done, you didn't embarrass yourself!"

Ren Shaoyang cheered loudly, "Holy crap! That slap you gave me was so satisfying!"

"Hahaha!" Ding'an laughed heartily, hands on his hips, but before he could finish, he suddenly heard Shao Yang and Hongxiu shout in alarm, "Watch out!"

Gah!
Ding'an was kicked in the waist by the old monk, but fortunately, he had been elbowed by Hongxiu for many years and had long since developed a strong waist. He staggered a few steps, then got into a fighting stance and threw nine punches in a row, turning the tide of the battle.

The two moved with lightning speed, locked in a fierce struggle, their figures growing fainter and fainter amidst the flickering purple light.

Suddenly, a divine light shone brightly, and the old monk shouted loudly. The divine light then dimmed, and Ding'an, like a bird with broken wings, was thrown more than ten feet away and fell heavily to the ground, unable to get up.

But then they saw a huge hole torn open in his chest, from front to back, with blood and flesh flying everywhere.

Ding An struggled to his feet, blood gushing out and soaking his trousers. Looking at the slowly healing wound, he sneered, "You old bald thief, I'll repay you for the punch you gave me!" Suddenly, he swayed and knelt on one knee.

Seeing this, Hongxiu quickly stepped forward to apply "wound medicine" to him.

"No!" Ding'an shuddered in fright. "I'll be right there!"

"Oh dear, with a formidable enemy at hand, recover quickly and listen to me!"

"No need," Ding'an said with a pained expression, pushing the medicine away. "Applying this wound medicine will hurt ten times more!"

Just as the two were shoving each other, the old monk stared blankly at the lump of flesh in his hand, sighed slightly, and casually threw it to the ground.

"It manifests the power of the Dragon Turtle, one of the Four Symbols, standing as tall as a mountain, almost immortal." The Sweeper Monk glanced at Ding An and shook his head, saying, "It's a pity, you and I are not of the same path."

"There's nothing to regret or not." Ren Shaoyang walked slowly forward, drew his longsword, and said loudly, "Old bald thief, you're just not favored by the heavens!"

The old monk had a bad feeling. Before he could turn around, he heard thunder roar and the mountains and valleys echoed. The sword light had already enveloped him.

"Good!" The sweeping monk's eyes gleamed. "In this third round, I will break your 'Harmonious Heaven Law'!" He suddenly took a large step back, letting the sword light pass by his nose.

"Damn!"

Seeing this, Ren Shaoyang trembled his longsword and thrust it at the old monk's shoulders. His swordsmanship was unpredictable, alternating between forward and reverse strikes, like two dragons playing with a pearl, swirling around the old monk's body.

The old monk chuckled, "Such obscure, intricate, and unpredictable moves are too stingy for the Sword God." As he spoke, he was seen moving back and forth in the crimson rainbow sword light, completely at ease.

Ren Shaoyang's longsword fell like snowflakes. Every time he gained the upper hand after a few moves, the old monk would punch or slap him, and he would immediately be forced to the defensive.

"Ha, finally they've brought out the real thing!"

Ren Shaoyang chuckled softly, then suddenly flicked his wrist, and the "Divine Sword" Dragon Capture transformed into a burst of crimson light, exploding abruptly.

Then, specks of crimson appeared at the tip of the sword, falling like sparks from the sky.

The old monk suddenly widened his eyes, took a step back, then another step back, and yet another step back.

The entire arena was filled with the figure of the Sweeping Monk, yet he deftly deflected, parried, dodged, and blocked the Sword God's swords one by one with incredible skill.

Ren Shaoyang frowned: "Your 'preemptive strike' technique is quite remarkable!" His swords flashed in rapid succession, like thousands of rainbows descending from the sky.

"Ta-da!"

Fists and swords clashed amidst a raging storm that swept across the heavens and earth.

A monk and a layman, a fist and a sword, stand alone amidst the boundless snow.

Sparks, sword light, and purple fists flashed and disappeared, accompanied by a loud, booming sound that made the hearts of the surrounding townspeople race and their blood rush to their heads.

These two are, one a living sword god, and the other a demon god in dharma form.

Both were perfectly aware of each other's moves and could anticipate the opponent's moves, thus they were able to dodge before the fist or sword arrived.

But because they anticipated the other party's prediction, even a slight error could lead to a huge mistake.

So often in the end, love comes around the corner.

They clashed together again.

The two men moved forward and backward, and in the blink of an eye, they had circled the well opening more than ten times.

The old monk snorted coldly, waved his hand, and purple light illuminated the world. Before the energy was even released, the spiritual power had already dissipated. With a rumble, bricks and tiles flew aimlessly from the ruins of the tower.

Ren Shaoyang suddenly felt the sword in his hand become heavy, and his heart sank even more. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he wished he could just fall asleep right then and there.

Suddenly, his vision blurred, he heard a whooshing sound, and saw a statue of Indra flying towards him.

This Indra is not the same Indra as before; he is the strongest war god among the eight classes of beings. He was captured by the old monk using his supernatural powers, but his divine power suddenly erupted, making him incredibly powerful and invincible.

when!
Ren Shaoyang retreated three steps, his white robe torn to shreds, and couldn't help but shout, "What a wonderful technique!"

"Of course, it's a good method!" The old monk laughed loudly, waving his hands repeatedly.

With a few whooshing sounds, the statues of the Dragon God, the Ghost King, and the Gandharvas flew over.

These three statues seemed to be drawn by the old monk's supernatural powers, unleashing unparalleled divine strength, and their speed of attack was beyond imagination.

Ren Shaoyang never expected it to be faster than lightning, and he was almost hit. He hurriedly transformed into a moon shadow, flickering in all directions.

But then came the statues of Asura, Garuda, Mahoraga, and finally Kinnara.

The eight statues tumbled and rolled, rushing back and forth, causing sparks to fly from Ren Shaoyang's longsword, forcing him to retreat continuously.

Suddenly, the old monk emerged from behind him and threw a punch. With a bang, Ren Shaoyang fell forward and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Hahaha!" The sweeping monk laughed loudly, dodging the sword light that the white-robed monk swept back, and disappeared outside the formation. "Sword God Ren, you'll have to get past my 'Eight Legions Chaotic Wisdom Formation' first!"

Ren Shaoyang retreated, sword in hand, his gaze shifting to the sweeping monk. The old monk also smiled and looked over, his eyes like deep, unfathomable pools. The white-robed figure suddenly felt the world spin, thinking, "Oh no, everything is in chaos!" Suddenly, a thought struck him, "Chaos?"

Ren Shaoyang closed his eyes and swung his sword swiftly to stab.

This was quite unexpected for the old monk. The long sword spun in a circle and struck the statues of the Eight Legions, making a rapid, clanging sound like a zither being played.

The white-robed figure moved with ease, his longsword nimbly shifting, striking east and west with perfect precision and swiftness. At its most exquisite moment, the sword light flashed back and forth, moving freely up, down, left, and right, with eight blades suddenly appearing and simultaneously piercing the statues of the Eight Tribes. The clanging sounds were continuous and dense, like the roar of dragons from beyond the heavens, stirring the heart and soul.

The old monk suddenly sensed something was wrong and retreated more than ten feet.

Within a mere ten-odd feet, the Sword God's precise sword strike cleaved two inches in front of his feet.

Sword energy swept across the sky, and eight cracks, like dragons and snakes, meandered through the entire Yuwang Temple.

Boom!

The Yuwang Temple suddenly split into eight pieces and collapsed with a crash.

In that instant, Ren Shaoyang's mind cleared, and he smiled as he opened his eyes: "Those who are discordant, I will strike them down." With a flicker, he transformed into a moon shadow and vanished from the spot.

A flash of sword light appeared, first piercing the eyes of the Indra statue. This strike hit its most vulnerable and fragile spot, and with a crack, the statue paused and then broke in two in mid-air.

Ren Shaoyang rode without stopping, his long sword roaming freely, seemingly untouched by worldly concerns, letting his horse run wild, carefree and unrestrained, utterly unrestrained.

But wherever the moon's shadow passed, a continuous "boom" sounded, and the hundreds-of-pounds statue broke and fell to the ground, stirring up a chaotic snow mist.

The sword light vanished.

"You old bald thief, what other tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

Amidst the snow and mist, Ren Shaoyang looked at the old monk with blood stained on his chest, then at the statues scattered on the ground, his eyes flashing, and he smiled softly.

"Humph!"

The old monk's face was deathly pale. Suddenly, he lifted his foot and stepped out, seemingly calm and collected, yet his actions were earth-shattering.

The moment he landed, the earth trembled violently, and a straight, sharp crack shot towards Ren Shaoyang. Along its path, rocks were pulverized, as if an earth dragon had turned over, sending mud and sand flying.

"Stop!"

Ren Shaoyang smiled casually, raised his hand, and drew his sword.

A horizontal slash.

Before the old monk even made a move, the rhythm of heaven and earth changed. Ren Shaoyang clearly sensed this and casually swung his sword as if in a playful manner.

As the sword swept across, the earth dragon immediately calmed down, and the cracks suddenly healed.

It was as if a zipper had been pulled up, and the divine will understood.

Suddenly, the light in front of Ren Shaoyang dimmed, and a fist carrying a burst of purple light slammed down from the sky.

The air was pushed aside like waves, turning into a vacuum that made people suffocate.

The man in white frowned and swung his sword upwards with a backhand motion.

"when!"

The area within a radius of several dozen feet was filled with a deafening roar, dust billowed, and a section of the land collapsed.

With his sword in one hand and his feet sinking more than two feet, Ren Jianshen looked up and saw a fist pressing down from above with the force to shake a mountain. Even someone as strong as Ren Shaoyang couldn't help but be at a disadvantage.

The Kinnara King reappeared in a non-human form, his upper body slightly leaning forward, his eyes meeting, only a few feet apart.

Suddenly, he chuckled strangely, "Sword God Ren, witness my strongest technique!" As he spoke, he abruptly lowered his head.

The long horn on his forehead slammed forward, striking Ren Shaoyang squarely between the eyebrows, leaving a bloody mark!
"Well!"

Ren Shaoyang lost his footing and fell, his forehead immediately splitting open and blood gushing out.

Ding'an and Hongxiu were both in an uproar upon seeing this, as Ren Shaoyang's sword strikes had been as powerful and majestic as a dragon.

Who knew that the old bald thief had a hidden move called "Bull Headbutt"?
You should know that Ren Shaoyang is protected by the "Harmonious Heaven Law" on the outside and saved by the power of the Four Spirits on the inside. He is born invincible. Over the years, he has hardly ever been injured, let alone faced with life or death!
But the old thief baldly struck, and blood gushed from the white robe's brow, revealing bone between its brows. This ability was truly terrifying.

The sweeping monk watched coldly, then suddenly nodded and said, "Very good, tough as nails! This old monk likes such stubborn people. I won't rely on others; I'll take your life myself!"

Seeing that the old monk had injured Shao Yang, Hongxiu was furious. She lunged forward and stood in front of Shao Yang. A flash of blood appeared in her sleeve, and she drew out "Candle Flower Red." With several clanging sounds, she cleaved the unicorn horn.

Amidst the flying sparks, a sudden blur appeared before their eyes, and the old monk actually broke off his single horn. With a whirlwind, the horn emerged like a knife, exchanging several blows with Hongxiu.

The beggar felt as if a huge rock was pressing on his chest. He took a step back and exclaimed in astonishment, "My God! You can actually break that thing off?"

The old monk, shaped like a large bird, zigzagged through the air, bypassing her blade and returning to his original spot.

The sweeping monk, twirling his single horn, glanced around and sneered, "Those who have reached our level, who doesn't have a trump card?"

Her face, though fair, was hard as ice. She thought to herself, "That old bald thief is incredibly cunning, and his divine power is astonishing. I'm afraid I won't be able to gain any advantage on my own!" She glanced at the cripple whose white clothes were stained with blood beside her, and her heart hardened. "Damn it! We killed Cao Shaoqin back then, what's one more old bald thief?"

"No matter how powerful He is, is he as monstrous as that old Blood Saber Ancestor?"

Thinking of this, the little beggar's expression brightened. He secretly took out the "golden wound medicine," smeared it on the blade, and the candle flames danced into a huge ball, raining down on the old monk.

The sweeping monk sneered, then flew past Hongxiu like lightning, as if he were a shooting star.

Two loud "bang" sounds rang out!

In an instant, Hongxiu and the Sweeping Monk's figures intersected, and the horn swept past Hongxiu's shoulder, leaving a trail of blood.

The "Red Candle Flower" blade flashed like water, striking the old monk in the ribs.

After landing, Hongxiu stumbled back two steps, and one of her arms almost lost all feeling.

The sweeping monk let out a miserable howl, his heart and lungs aching, and he clutched his ribs as he retreated.

Just then, a sudden gust of wind rose from behind, with astonishing force.

Despite the extreme pain, the old monk dared not be careless and struck back with his palm, knocking away a large rock.

Seeing this, Ding'an threw out large stones repeatedly.

The old monk roared, "Hmph!" and cleaved the horn in the air with a backhand stroke, causing the air to churn like waves and the large rocks to shatter.

At this moment, He seemed to possess an invisible, immense power, sharper than a sword. At first, large stones two zhang away would fly away upon contact, and then nothing could remain three or five zhang away.

"Come on!" Ding An shouted, and with a clang, his eagle-blade was drawn, slashing horizontally.

The old monk spun around, about to use his horn to defend himself.

Suddenly, Ding An separated his palms, and with a "clang," his prosthetic hand deflected the unicorn, while his left hand slammed the hilt of his sword onto the old monk's head.

boom!
Sparks flew everywhere, and the old monk, feeling dizzy and disoriented, clutched his head and took several steps back.

Just then, a whistle blew, and two figures, one in red and one in white, leaped in and surrounded him.

It was Hongxiu and Shaoyang!
"Crippled man, broken hand!" The little beggar dug out two handfuls of wound medicine and flicked them to them, one on each side. "Catch!" His smile was wicked and mischievous. "If we can't kill him, we'll disgust him!"

"it is good!"

"it is good!"

Both of them slashed their weapons and simultaneously let out a strange "hehe" laugh.

King Kinnara had never seen such a strange fighting style before.
They're stabbing you while simultaneously applying wound medicine, and that wound medicine is fucking painful!
The old monk would absolutely swear to Buddha that he had never been in such pain in his entire life!

"The Three Fiends of the Northern Frontier." The old monk looked at his unharmed ribs, the pain shooting straight to his brain, but his divine strength was boundless, and he had not yet fainted. He gritted his teeth and said, "What is this?"

Ren Shaoyang flicked the blade lightly and laughed, "The three fierce weapons are adorned with gold, making that bald thief scream for his mother!"

(End of this chapter)