Chapter Seventy-Nine: Contest of Inner Strength

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Competing in Inner Strength

Wu Hong’s strike carried the force of heaven and earth, utterly irresistible. Dozens of top-tier martial artists at the peak of the acquired realm hastily joined forces, yet were still shaken into spitting blood before barely withstanding the blow. This attack was aimed directly at Qingyangzi, who now lay sprawled on the ground, his clothes torn to shreds and his appearance utterly wretched—no longer bearing even a trace of a sect leader’s dignity.

A commotion erupted all around. Everyone knew Wu Hong’s cultivation was not something a few peak acquired experts could withstand, but none had expected such a result. With such might and true energy, only someone at the innate realm could hope to contend with him.

Even Wu Hong himself had not anticipated the sheer power of his attack. Though it consumed much of his energy, he had entered the Marrow Refining stage; the power of heaven and earth was slowly seeping into his body, and his true energy was gradually recovering. The wondrous Great Sun Tathāgata True Explanation allowed his strength to return dozens of times faster than ordinary experts. In the instant the crowd reeled in shock, he was almost fully recovered.

Everyone fixed their gaze on Wu Hong, all thoroughly intimidated by his display. A single thought occupied every mind now: Wu Hong had never entered the Marrow Refining stage before—this was a true breakthrough. Just what secret manual had he practiced?

This was the question burning in everyone’s heart, a fervor impossible to suppress. Now, even if Wu Hong truly had no connection with the so-called demon in disguise, the crowd was resolved: Wu Hong must be captured alive, and his cultivation secrets forced out of him.

Little Dongfang’s face grew even more unsightly. He muttered inwardly, "Wu Hong, Wu Hong! I know you’re the real Wu Hong, but I never expected this! Even if you’ve reached the innate stage today, you won’t escape disaster. Hmph—"

“Do not fear him! The amount of true energy one person possesses is limited unless they have reached the innate realm. If we attack together—” Little Dongfang shouted.

The many experts exchanged glances, then struck simultaneously. The momentum was thunderous, rivaling lightning. All manner of true energies surged into the air, converging into a great river of power that swept toward Wu Hong.

Wu Hong frowned slightly. If he had not ascended to the Marrow Refining stage, such a display would have forced him to evade the brunt of the assault. But now, resolved to establish his authority, he chose to meet the attack head-on and overawe these martial masters.

Golden light burst from Wu Hong’s body. Suddenly, two gleaming, golden arms—entirely formed of true energy—sprouted from his back, each forming different mystical seals. Seen from afar, Wu Hong appeared to have four arms, all waving in the air, performing various incantations as energy gathered wildly, stirring up fierce winds and sending dust and stones flying.

His bronzed skin, tinged with gold, was instantly enveloped in a radiant, glassy aura, making him resemble a Buddha descending to the mortal realm.

Wu Hong’s entire body leapt dozens of meters into the air, reaching the very heavens. Bathed in the blinding sunlight, he looked every part the sacred, inviolable Four-Armed Buddha.

All those with even slightly lesser cultivation among the martial world felt their knees tremble and their hearts quake, as if witnessing the true spirit of Buddha manifest. An urge to kneel and kowtow surged within them.

The river of true energy, gathered by the many peak acquired experts, slashed through the sky in an instant, confronting the protective aura around Wu Hong.

"Great Sun Tathāgata Vajra Palm—" Wu Hong intoned, reciting the name of his martial art aloud for the first time.

"Ah! Is Wu Hong using the legendary Tathāgata Divine Palm?" cried one of the peak acquired experts who had not yet joined the attack.

His expression changed dramatically as he saw Wu Hong manifest four arms, radiating overwhelming power, and invoking a technique by name as he waved his hands in the air.

The crowd was astounded, all mouths agape, waiting to see the final outcome. They wished to see Wu Hong defeated, yet secretly yearned to witness the legendary Tathāgata Divine Palm in action.

Prince Yang Wei’s face twisted with greed. Rumor had it that while the Tathāgata Divine Palm was not an innate secret manual, it was nonetheless the supreme martial art of the mortal world—peerless, unrivaled, the very king among all martial disciplines.

Wu Hong thrust out both his real and conjured arms together, unleashing the Great Sun Tathāgata true energy—a torrent of power roaring forth like a river, surging toward the massed true energy of his opponents.

A thunderous detonation shook the heavens as the two torrents collided, erupting with the fury of ninefold thunder. The earth trembled, mountains fractured, the lake boiled, and those watching felt their footing falter; the less skilled among them stumbled and fell, utterly helpless.

Wu Hong’s face changed in an instant, feeling as if he had struck a mountain. Though his true energy was fierce, the resistance was immovable as stone.

The faces of the dozens of peak acquired experts also changed dramatically. Each one felt as though they were locked in a contest of inner strength with a lifelong rival.

Wu Hong and his dozens of opponents stood several dozen yards apart—one side’s true energy forged from the combined might of many, the other a unique surge of Great Sun Tathāgata energy, entwined in a fierce struggle above.

Dragon roars, tiger howls, blazing flames—this combined assault of so many experts, drawn from various sects, mingled harmonies of yin and yang, their true energy a complex blend.

There was Li Haoyang, leader of the Beggars’ Sect, wielding the Eighteen Dragon Subduing Palms; Little Dongfang’s formless force; Prince Yang Wei; the head of Kunlun; the leader of Penglai, and more.

The two torrents clashed. Wu Hong felt his strength draining rapidly, and even the replenishing energies of heaven and earth could not keep pace. He was growing anxious.

Yet the Great Sun Tathāgata true energy suddenly flared with even greater brilliance. The many peak acquired experts shuddered, sensing something unbelievable.

“Look! Wu Hong’s true energy seems to be assimilating the various energies of the others!”

“This is incredible! Could this be the legendary power of the Tathāgata Divine Palm?”

Someone among the crowd, possessing keen insight, immediately noticed this strange phenomenon.

Initially, the river of energy gathered by the many experts was stronger than Wu Hong’s alone; victory was a matter of endurance. Wu Hong was essentially pitting his inner strength against each expert in turn—a perilous endeavor.

But now, at the point where the two streams met, the golden energy was slowly enveloping and absorbing the power of the others, swelling itself.

As the balance shifted, the situation reversed—victory was now uncertain.

Wu Hong rejoiced, glancing skyward to see the Great Sun Tathāgata True Explanation from his mind floating above the clashing energies, radiating resplendence, gradually refining the energies of the crowd.

“Why is this fellow’s true energy so bizarre? I’ve never heard of the Tathāgata Divine Palm being able to devour others’ power!” one expert muttered as they struggled. The moment he spoke, his chest tightened, and with a spurt of blood, he collapsed.

The other dozens of peak acquired experts were all aghast, cursing him inwardly: “You’re courting death! To be distracted at such a critical, life-or-death moment!”

“Wu Hong, don’t be so arrogant! Yulin Guards, where are you?” Prince Yang Wei shouted.

At his command, tens of thousands of figures surged behind the prince and the assembled experts.

Everyone’s expression changed, not out of surprise at the Yulin Guards’ presence—they all knew of Emperor Yang Guang’s elite—but at the sheer number and cultivation of this force. Each of these ten thousand was at the Marrow Refining stage, some already in its mid-levels.

Individually, these men might be no match for Wu Hong, but together, they were a force to be reckoned with.

Even the most prestigious martial leaders, the heads of various sects, found their faces paling. In the past, they had never taken the imperial court seriously, holding themselves above such “hounds of the state.”

But now, with ten thousand Yulin Guards all at the Marrow Refining stage, if Emperor Yang Guang wished to eliminate them, it would be as easy as turning a hand.

These Yulin Guards, fierce as dragons and tigers, unleashed waves of black true energy, joining the battle.

Wu Hong’s face changed drastically as he felt this overwhelming tide of energy crash toward him.