One strike followed another; it felt as if Monk Xinjue possessed endless inner force, hacking relentlessly at Li Muzhan. Rifts appeared one after another before him, astonishing in their momentum.

Li Muzhan pressed out with his thumb, strike after strike. With sharp chi sounds, his blows collided with the Dharma Blade in mid-air, instantly stirring up wind and surging clouds that swept the white snow.

In the span of a few breaths, after more than twenty Dharma Blade strikes, the ground between the two men sank by a foot. The snow was violently swept away, exposing the stones beneath.

These stones were strangely shaped, like reefs. It was clear that this area had once been a coastline in ancient times; the marks of the sea's scouring were obvious, yet they had been constantly covered by ice and snow, untouched by wind and rain erosion.

Li Muzhan, a man from a later era, understood the principles of tectonic change. He glanced around and surmised that there should be something valuable here; things from the bottom of the sea were often strange.

But at this moment, he had no leisure for exploration. The Dharma Blade came strike after strike, pressing him hard.

Li Muzhan shook his head helplessly, extended his left hand, which had been hidden in his sleeve, and aimed a distant press with his thumb. With a soft chi whistle, surging finger force erupted, heading straight for Monk Xinjue.

Monk Xinjue drove out a punch.

With a dull bang, Monk Xinjue staggered slightly and retreated a step.

His eyes shone brightly; he stared at Li Muzhan in surprise, then strode forward, launching another punch.

Li Muzhan suddenly shifted, gliding three feet horizontally with a smooth motion. A whistling woo sound swept past his side, his robes flapping wildly, like a gale tearing through.

"What kind of fist technique is this?" Li Yujiao asked, astonished.

A middle-aged woman replied, "The Arhat Divine Fist."

"Arhat Divine Fist?" Li Yujiao turned to look. "Isn't there the Arhat Fist?"

"The Arhat Fist is the introductory technique to the Arhat Divine Fist, quite crude. But that's how the martial arts of Landuo Temple are; even the most rudimentary techniques can unleash tremendous power when practiced to the profound realm. The Arhat Divine Fist is such a style; its punch force can break through the air."

The middle-aged woman explained.

"There are such martial arts?" Li Yujiao shook her head.

The middle-aged woman continued, "However, mastering the Arhat Fist to a profound level is no easy feat; it requires special methods. Many people in the martial world know a few moves of the Arhat Fist, but only Landuo Temple possesses the method to practice the Arhat Divine Fist... Seemingly, Landuo Temple loses out because everyone learns the Arhat Fist, but in reality, it is not so. The temple's machinations are quite subtle..." ... "This is what the Sect Master said."

"What's so subtle about it?" Li Yujiao asked.

The middle-aged woman said, "The Sect Master analyzed that this move attracts renown. Like spring rain moistening things silently, when everyone learns the Arhat Fist, they naturally feel a sense of closeness to Landuo Temple; this is human nature."

"Hmm, reasonable. This Landuo Temple is truly insidious!" Li Yujiao snorted coldly.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! A series of dull thuds drew Li Yujiao's attention. She quickly turned her head to look, only to see Li Muzhan and Monk Xinjue locked in combat.

…………………………

The heart Li Yujiao had set down was raised again. In that last exchange, Senior Brother Zhanran was not at a disadvantage; the Vast Sea Divine Finger and the Dharma Blade were evenly matched. Even with the Arhat Divine Fist, he seemed to have no recourse.

She secretly speculated that Senior Brother Zhanran must have cultivated the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture, otherwise, his inner force would not be so deep and would not have grown so rapidly.

But close-quarters striking was different; it tested not only inner force but also the subtlety of the moves. The Vast Sea Sword Sect's inner force was unique, but their techniques were somewhat lacking, especially their hand skills, which were inferior to the Nine Swords of the Vast Sea.

She called out loudly, "Senior Brother Zhanran, use your sword!"

She saw two shadows merging in the snow—one jade-white, one gray—intertwined and difficult to discern clearly. She turned to the middle-aged woman, "Aunt Zhao, how is it?"

"Too fast, I can't see clearly." The middle-aged woman's face was grim.

Li Yujiao exclaimed, "I didn't expect Senior Brother Zhanran's palm skills to be so formidable!"

To fight Monk Xinjue to this extent was already impressive; Monk Xinjue was known as an outstanding disciple emerging once in a century at Landuo Temple, on par with the Cold Lotus Fairy Wen Yinyue of the Vast Sea Sword Sect.

Bang bang bang bang... Amidst a continuous series of dull thuds, Li Muzhan and Monk Xinjue fought faster and faster, fists and palms meeting, their forces clashing violently.

Snowflakes scattered and splashed around them. The reef beneath their feet was exposed as the hard-packed snow was compressed and split apart by their sheer force.

Li Muzhan suddenly burst into a long laugh, "Master Xinjue, I am about to use my ultimate move, be careful!"

"Come then!" Monk Xinjue roared deeply.

The two paused abruptly, revealing their forms. Not a hair was out of place on their bodies, as if they had not been engaged in fierce combat, radiating an aura of calm composure. Both possessed the bearing of great monks.

Li Muzhan let out a long howl, and his hands suddenly turned jade-colored. Then, eight illusory hands manifested, pressing down upon Monk Xinjue, as if six extra arms had sprouted from his body.

The howl rumbled far and wide, causing the entire world to tremble.

Li Yujiao felt her soul shaken by the sound. She turned to the middle-aged woman; both women had turned pale, injured by the noise. She smiled, placing her palms respectively against the backs of their hearts.

Having cultivated the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture, her inner force was profound and pure. After channeling it, the two middle-aged women both let out a long breath, sighing, "Such formidable inner force!..."

Li Yujiao smiled; how could her inner force not be deep after cultivating the Nine Revolutions Marrow Cleansing Scripture?

"Amitabha..." Monk Xinjue slightly closed his eyes, clasped his hands, and chanted a Buddhist invocation. His appearance was solemn and majestic, like an old monk in deep meditation.

This Buddhist chant was vast and ancient, seeming to travel from the depths of time, directly shaking the soul, leaving the mind instantly tranquil, devoid of desire or demand.

He remained motionless. As Li Muzhan's eight palms approached, he suddenly flickered, his body dissolving into eight shadows, each shadow launching a punch to meet one of the eight incoming palms.

...

Bang! Stones flew everywhere, snow scattered wildly. Both combatants retreated about ten paces.

Li Muzhan laughed loudly again. Before the snow and stones could settle, he pounced again like a phantom, unleashing another volley of palm shadows.

A woman from Zhongmu gasped, "Arhat Divine Fist!"

"What martial art is this?" Li Yujiao asked.

She secretly resolved that upon returning, she must thoroughly study the martial arts of various sects to avoid being ignorant and embarrassed; this feeling of being utterly clueless was terrible.

The middle-aged woman explained, "The Sect Master mentioned that within Landuo Temple's Arhat Fist lineage, the Arhat Fist is the entry level, the next step deeper is the Arhat Divine Fist, whose punch force penetrates the body to injure the unseen, possessing unparalleled power. But there is a level above the Arhat Divine Fist, called the Arahat Divine Fist, which is even more powerful, possessing incredible might..." ... "This Arahat Divine Fist transcends the scope of martial arts; it belongs to Buddhist divine abilities, unattainable by those who practice worldly martial arts. It requires the blessing of Buddhist dharma."

"That powerful?" Li Yujiao frowned and asked, "Then what exactly is the power of this Arahat Divine Fist?"

The middle-aged woman shook her head, "I don't know either..." The Sect Master said the Arahat Divine Fist is the treasure-guarding divine fist of Landuo Temple. One must grasp the essence of profound Buddhist dharma to comprehend it. Usually, only the old monks of Landuo Temple meditate on it, but those old monks have long since lost the desire for conflict and will not leave the temple to fight others—unless someone dares to storm Landuo Temple, which no one has been bold enough to do yet..." ... "During the last assessment of Landuo Temple's martial arts, the Sect Master once mentioned casually that Landuo Temple lacks successors; no one has managed to master the Arahat Divine Fist in a hundred years..." ... "I never expected Monk Xinjue to be this formidable!"

Li Yujiao smiled faintly, "So what? I think he is no match for Senior Brother Zhanran!"

The middle-aged woman shook her head, "Since the Sect Master said this fist technique is incredible, it must have its astonishing aspects. Miss, you shouldn't be too optimistic."

Li Yujiao pursed her lips but offered no rebuttal.

Li Muzhan was executing the Eight Styles of Dragon Slaying, fully unleashed for the first time without holding anything back. In this battle with Monk Xinjue, he gained significant insight, deepening his understanding of the Eight Styles of Dragon Slaying.

Each style was propelled by a spiraling force. Had it been anyone else, they wouldn't have withstood a single move. Monk Xinjue's fist technique, however, was very peculiar, blending hardness and softness, with Yin and Yang mutually generating; the spiraling force drilled in, only to be rapidly neutralized into nothingness. This strange fist style could actually dissolve all incoming inner force.

While admiring that Landuo Temple's ultimate skills were indeed extraordinary, he urged his inner force and activated the Lamp Lighting Art, causing eight more arms to sprout on his hands.

Looking out, it seemed as if sixteen hands were descending simultaneously.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Monk Xinjue endured three palm strikes in rapid succession.

He was sent flying like a rubber ball, tumbling through the air, soaring over ten zhang away before disappearing into the snow.

"Good!" Li Yujiao shouted loudly.

...

Li Muzhan shook his head and floated toward the spot where Xinjue landed.

He understood that Monk Xinjue's external hardening skill was also profoundly advanced. Those three palm strikes, despite their strange disruptive force, should have dissolved a considerable amount of impact, preventing him from being utterly defeated.

Halfway there, the ground beneath his feet suddenly shook. With a muffled bang, the snow exploded outward, and Monk Xinjue lunged forward wrapped in a flurry of snow.

Bang bang bang bang! Li Muzhan retreated while Monk Xinjue advanced, attacking. One retreated, the other advanced; the two skimmed rapidly across the snow surface.

After more than ten exchanges, Li Muzhan switched from defense to offense, unleashing sixteen palms. Monk Xinjue retreated. Neither man's feet touched the ground; they swept down the mountainside, gliding above the snow.

Bang bang bang bang... The dull thudding sounds were incessant.

Li Yujiao wanted to follow to see clearly, but she was held back by the two middle-aged women.

"I can see better if I go closer!" Li Yujiao turned impatiently.

The two middle-aged women shook their heads. One said, "Miss, with the skill of these two, even if we go down, it will be useless; we won't be able to stop them."

The other middle-aged woman added, "Exactly, Miss. Their power is too deep, and their martial arts are too strange. We can't interfere. It’s better to watch from here."

Just then, more than ten figures floated down from the distance, quickly arriving beside Li Yujiao.

Li Yujiao turned to look. These dozen or so people were all young, two women and about ten men—all heroic youths with considerable cultivation. Li Yujiao, not often mingling in the martial world, did not recognize them.

"Are you Miss Li of Holy Snow Peak?" A handsome young man greeted her with a cupped fist and a smile.

Li Yujiao frowned, nodded coldly, and turned back to look down the mountain. The two combatants had already reached the mountainside; amidst the countless shadows of fists and palms filling the air, the victor was impossible to discern.

The handsome youth was not offended, smiling pleasantly, "I am Yang Zhiyuan. I have long heard of the great name of Holy Snow Peak."

"Young Hero, what is your connection to the Jin Yuan Yang Family?" a middle-aged woman asked.

"I am a disciple of the Yang lineage," Yang Zhiyuan replied with a smile.

The middle-aged woman suddenly understood, "So, you are also a noble lineage disciple!"

"Haha, Madam, wrangling for too long is boring. Let's settle this with one punch!" Li Muzhan's loud laughter drifted towards them.

"That would be best!" Monk Xinjue responded deeply.

The voices of the two condensed but did not dissipate, traveling directly into the ears of the assembled group.

The expressions of the crowd sharpened, and they stopped speaking, turning to look down at the two figures halfway down the mountain.

The sixteen palm impressions suddenly vanished. Li Muzhan stood still, unmoving, then let out a long howl from his mouth. It began as a long, lingering sound like a dragon's roar, gradually ascending higher and higher, like a dragon soaring into the Nine Heavens, like heavenly thunder striking down—the entire world was filled with his cry.

The dozen or so youths ignored everything else and immediately sat cross-legged on the snow, cultivating and regulating their breathing. Even so, under the impact of the howl, their blood qi vibrated, and their inner force surged like uncontrolled wild horses, charging left and right.

...

"Amitabha..." A long, lingering Buddhist chant sounded, like a giant bell suspended in the sky. The sound drifted down, its clear notes echoing faintly, penetrating everyone's hearts.

Puff! Puff! Puff! Puff!... The dozen or so youths all looked up and spat out a mouthful of hot blood.

This lingering Buddhist chant did not soothe their hearts; instead, it added fuel to the fire. The youths had already been injured by Li Muzhan's howl, and this second assault was no less powerful than the first. The two sounds superimposed, multiplying the effect. The crowd instantly suffered injury to their internal organs.

Li Muzhan had howled once before, so Li Yujiao was prepared. As soon as she heard the cry, she pressed her palms onto the backs of the two middle-aged women, saving them from disaster.

The howl and the Buddhist chant vibrated, intertwined, and condensed in the air, refusing to dissipate. The crowd immediately spat out another mouthful of hot blood, secretly regretting coming to watch the excitement—truly an undeserved calamity.

Bang... A dull thud exploded near the crowd's ears.

Everyone felt as if a thunderclap had sounded in the clear sky; the hairs on their bodies stood up, and their minds went blank for an instant.

Then, when they recovered their senses, they felt the ground shaking. At first, they thought it was an illusion, but then a woman screamed, "Avalanche!"

Li Yujiao was the most clear-headed. She clearly saw the accumulated snow fracture and then collapse downwards in cascades.

They were positioned at the mountaintop, and the exposed reef terrain beneath their feet was a result of the fight between Li Muzhan and Monk Xinjue; they were not directly affected, only feeling their footing shake.

Boom... Like a mountain flood bursting forth, vast masses of snow rolled down, collapsing piece by piece.

Li Yujiao’s face changed, "Senior Brother Zhanran!"

She was about to rush down, but two arms grabbed her tightly.

"Miss, you cannot go down!" The two middle-aged women's faces changed drastically, and they cried urgently, "No matter how high one's martial arts, confronting this means death!"

"Senior Brother Zhanran is down there!" Li Yujiao struggled, intending to shake them off.

The two women held onto her arms tenaciously, their lips tinged with red; in her panic, she had injured them.

"Miss, you absolutely cannot go down!"

"Let go!" Li Yujiao stamped her foot, glaring at the two in anxiety.

The two women clung to her, employing the "Thousand Jin Anchor" technique, determined to stop her.

Rumble... The ground continued to tremble; snow fell everywhere, blanketing the world in a vast whiteness, like a towering tidal wave soaring into the sky.

PS: Yin Tian can only manage one chapter today; things aren't looking good, I might be catching a cold. I'll see if I can rest up. (To be continued)