Chapter Thirty-six: Evil Reaches Its Pinnacle

Chapter Thirty-Six: Evil Reaches Its Limit

Wu Hong bowed slightly to Xuanbei and said, “Master, what is Buddha?”

Xuanbei replied, “To let go of the evil thoughts in one’s heart is to be Buddha. One who is awakened, one who has realized the truth, is regarded as Buddha. If all is relinquished, anyone can become Buddha.”

Wu Hong said, “Then, Master, if you commit murder to stop me, would you not become an evil person? Not Buddha?”

Xuanbei responded, “One who subdues evil is saving many good people. It is a deliverance, a great virtue, and thus, also Buddha.”

Wu Hong said, “Since you are so intent on subduing me, unable to let go of that persistence in your heart, how can you claim all is emptiness?”

Xuanbei replied, “I do not wish to subdue you, benefactor. I wish you to lay down your blade.”

Wu Hong said, “You are so fixated on subduing me—are you not like the other powerful men? Also an evil person, perhaps? Using the blade to subdue evil, if you cannot lay down your blade to attain Buddhahood, how can you persuade me to lay down mine and become Buddha?”

Wu Hong did not understand Buddhist teachings, yet every word struck at the heart, leaving Xuanbei momentarily speechless.

“Master, don’t waste words on this slippery-tongued fellow. Let’s join forces and kill him!” Wang Liang jumped out and said.

“Amitabha, good, good! If the benefactor lets go of his obsession, lays down his blade, and enters my Buddhist sect, he will surely become a great talent,” Xuanbei now truly admired Wu Hong.

Wu Hong bowed once more to Xuanbei and said, “Master need not say more. There are too many who wish to kill Wu Hong, far too many. Master, do not hold back.”

With a flick, two weapons appeared in Wu Hong’s hands—a dagger and a short-handled hammer—startling everyone present. No one saw how the weapons appeared.

The four shadows watched as Wu Hong drew his weapons, knowing battle was inevitable. Lately, Wu Hong’s martial prowess had become legendary; though they were masters at the marrow-refining stage, none dared to be careless.

All four wore black and wielded Qingfeng swords. With synchronized movements, four long sword auras, each over ten meters, sealed Wu Hong's escape routes in every direction.

Wu Hong’s previous experience fighting marrow-refining masters had been while being pursued in the desert by the Silver Armored General. Then, he caught his foe off guard by throwing his hammer. But at that time, Wu Hong’s cultivation was only at the flesh-refining stage; now, he was on the verge of bone-refining, a difference beyond comparison.

After the four sealed off Wu Hong’s routes, their Qingfeng swords pierced toward his vital points.

Suddenly, the four were startled. Their coordinated attack left Wu Hong only the option to leap into the air, where they could release sword auras and strike him down, unable to balance.

But Wu Hong did not follow their expectations. His body twisted irregularly, almost unrecognizable as human. Since reaching the threshold of bone-refining, his flexibility was astonishing. The onlookers were stunned.

They had heard of flexibility training, but never that one's head could deform, the neck could rotate several hundred degrees, or the shin bone could bend without joints.

The four black-clad men missed their mark, frozen in place, shaken by Wu Hong’s bizarre form, sending chills through their hearts. They had seen practitioners of flexibility, but never anyone who could twist parts without joints.

Was this still a human? Clearly, he was a man of rubber!

“Ping Ping Bang Bang—” Wu Hong restored his form, spun a full circle, and slashed with his dagger onto the four swords.

“Not good!” The four felt a strange force travel through their swords to their hands, splitting their tiger’s mouths and causing blood to gush.

They hurriedly threw their weapons away, flipping back a dozen meters to form a new encirclement.

If Wu Hong had been more ruthless, he could have gravely injured these four, who still underestimated him. Yet Xuanbei had not acted, making Wu Hong wary.

Though the monk’s cultivation was only a stage above the four black-clad men, advancement at the marrow-refining stage was extremely difficult; a mid-stage master far outclassed an early-stage one.

“Amitabha, Wu Hong possesses the power of the four symbols. Truly a talent, alas, alas!” Xuanbei pressed his palms together, lamenting.

“Master, no need for more words!” Wu Hong’s respect for Xuanbei remained; the master had tried to persuade him to lay down his blade, offering him a chance for life—merciful, from his perspective.

Though the enemies were formidable, Wu Hong was undaunted, his entire body wrapped in golden true energy, appearing sacred from afar.

“Damn, just days ago, how did Wu Hong become so powerful!” Wang Liang cursed, fear creeping in—if four marrow-refining experts couldn’t subdue Wu Hong, he would be the one to suffer.

He himself was only at the blood-refining stage, as were several other young men nearby, their faces grim; all were around sixteen or seventeen.

Only Fatty Li Yunda shook his head, now fully convinced that the one who castrated his son was not Wu Hong, but someone else.

“Master, could you spare Wu Hong for my sake? He is not as vicious as rumored. My safety has been saved by Young Master Wu Hong several times,” Li Yunda could not bear it any longer and stepped in to speak for Wu Hong.

Xuanbei was stunned, but before he could reply, Wang Liang jumped up, “Fatty, what are you saying? Nonsense! Since Wu Hong entered the cave, he’s killed and burned countless people—there are witnesses. Are you his accomplice?”

Li Yunda’s face flushed, angered by Wang Liang’s words. He had some reputation in the martial world and felt insulted, wishing to retort harshly, but remembered Wang Liang’s status.

“Amitabha, Wang Liang’s words may be crude, but he speaks the truth,” Xuanbei always preceded his words with “Amitabha.”

Fatty snorted, “I have reasons for what I say. Since entering the Celestial Book Cave, I have been with Wu Hong at all times. How could he be elsewhere committing crimes?”

“Nonsense—I saw with my own eyes Wu Hong’s cruelty! He used those very weapons, even killed a pregnant woman of the martial world with a single stroke—unforgivable. Fatty, your son was castrated by Wu Hong; everyone knows this. How can you defend him?”

Li Yunda was known for his reputation and friendly relations. His exchange with Wang Liang stopped everyone in their tracks.

Hearing Wang Liang touch on his sore spot, Li Yunda’s face turned deathly pale.

“The culprit who castrated my son—I will see him torn limb from limb. But Wu Hong is not the one who committed evil after entering the cave, and I now believe he is not my son’s mutilator!” Li Yunda’s words were venomous, yet his trust in Wu Hong was unwavering. He could not say why, but he believed Wu Hong was not the culprit; Wang Liang, on the other hand, he found increasingly disagreeable.

“Hmph—whether this Wu Hong is the recent slaughterer or not, today I will kill him,” Wu Songran said angrily after hearing their exchange.

“Hmph—you lot, go kill Wu Hong for me!” Wang Liang commanded his bodyguards.

The four marrow-refining black-clad men dared not disobey, each drawing their backup weapon—a long saber.

Wu Hong instantly felt greater pressure; these men had become cunning, avoiding direct clashes with his weapons, thus not restricting themselves, and able to threaten him more deadly.

Yet Wu Hong could do nothing to them either; their blade auras kept him at a distance of over ten meters.

Wu Hong was thrown into chaos; though his cultivation had improved, he could not, like the marrow-refining masters, project true energy outside his body. The four attacked from afar, never approaching, and the battle stalled.

Sword aura crisscrossed as the fight raged, giant rocks near the cave shattered and flew, struck by sword energy deflected by Wu Hong.

The four masters moved with agility, left and right, up and down, coordinated perfectly.

The explosion of rocks echoed, dust and smoke clouded the battle, but the spectators, all martial experts, were not hindered from watching.

The longer Wu Hong fought, the more frustrated he felt—his speed was fast, his strength immense, his protective true energy strong, his flexibility uncanny.

Yet after so long, he hadn’t even touched the edge of their clothes, and several sword auras grazed him painfully.

Wu Hong’s body gradually bore several bloody streaks, but the sharp sword energy had not penetrated his skin.

His internal organs, however, felt greatly shaken, though his body, on the verge of bone-refining, was now incredibly strong.

But what Wu Hong didn’t know was that the four black-clad men were even more shocked.

They were astonished that Wu Hong, struck by several sword auras, had not broken skin, amazed at the density of his true energy, amazed that a youth not yet at marrow-refining could withstand their combined assault.

Yet Wu Hong was still in peril, beset by their attacks, making Li Yunda’s heart race with fear.

“Wu Hong, your death has come!” Wu Songran, seeing Wu Hong fully occupied, quietly moved into a blind spot.

Wu Hong’s focus was entirely on the four; as for Xuanbei, he no longer feared a sneak attack from him.

Wu Songran moved like a ghost, activating the family’s secret technique, Silkworm Step, and suddenly stabbed at Wu Hong’s back with a flying sword.

This was a shocking move—Wu Hong had never expected Wu Songran to risk joining the fray and attack suddenly.

Sensing a fierce sword aura behind him, Wu Hong dodged instinctively, but this movement gave a black-clad man his opportunity.

Long reluctant to engage Wu Hong up close, he suddenly lunged forward, slashing Wu Hong’s right shoulder.

Wu Hong felt a violent pain shoot through his shoulder, blood spraying forth.