Chapter 46: The Māra King Urinated

  Birds chirping, cicadas calling, the sky is clear for thousands of miles. Before he knew it, the sun was already overhead. Linghu Cong cursed under his breath, shouldering the heavy Xuan Tie sword and preparing to leave Qingfeng Gang. He couldn't help but mutter, "They say people become more cunning with age, but this famous Jianghu veteran 'Violent Rage' is getting more muddled with age." He had wasted two days of effort and been disturbed by mosquitoes for two nights.

  Linghu Chong was walking along a small path in the forest when he met a strange-looking man with dark skin and golden hair coming towards him. The man was wearing a fiery red monk's robe, humming a tune as he walked, looking very happy.

  "Get out of the way, you little punk! Don't block my master's path, or I'll hack you to death!" The golden-haired man yelled loudly from a distance, his face twisted in annoyance.

  This narrow path between the trees was originally small, and two people couldn't pass through at the same time. The golden-haired big man had a fierce face, seemingly very unhappy that Linghu Cong didn't cooperate and give way, stretching out his hand to grab him suddenly.

  Linghu Chong, the extraordinary talent who broke free from the shackles of his mortal body, the absolute master of the Jianghu world, with an aura that surpasses the heavens. How could he possibly give in to a golden-haired ugly ghost? You say let's talk nicely and negotiate peacefully, that's easy enough, but instead you come at me with violence, thinking of resolving this with brute force? What a miracle! Are you trying to bully Linghu Chong?

  He saw him raise his hand and with a casual flick, he deflected the golden-haired giant's hand, turned around and slapped the golden-haired giant's chest, sending the golden-haired giant flying out. What surprised Linghu Cong was that this golden-haired giant's chest actually rebounded back with a huge force, forcing him to retreat several steps to resolve the massive power.

  Linghu Cong gazed at the golden-haired giant's bizarre attire, his body suddenly shook violently, and he suddenly realized, gritting his teeth: "You damn well won't be that damned evil monk from outside the realm, Mahārāja Mo Luo, will you?!"

  "Haha, not bad! I am indeed the Demon King of Mara. The monkeys from Central Plains are really interesting, not only are the women delicate, but even a little white face like you is so well-behaved and can recognize my title." The Demon King of Mara laughed loudly, "Your eyesight is not bad, as a reward for you, I'll spare your life!"

  "Damn it, you son of a bitch! Do you know that I've been waiting for you here for two whole days and nights?" Linghu Cong's entire body was trembling, his hands clenched tightly into fists, his fingers were white from the pressure, the emotions he had suppressed for two days finally found an outlet and erupted completely.

  He suddenly transformed into a raging storm, rapidly dashing to the front of Mahāprajāpatī, directly using his most powerful and overbearing Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms, heavily slapping Mahāprajāpatī's chest.

  This was the first time he used this set of palm techniques in the process of fighting against his enemy since he learned the Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms. The reason was simple: this set of palm techniques was powerful and domineering, with each palm hitting the flesh, making it a pleasure to fight. If he were to use the Xuan Tie Heavy Sword to execute the Dugu Nine Swords, Mo Luo Fa Wang would probably be dead before he could even finish his move.

  "Damn it! A lama who doesn't even shave his head, and he still dares to sport such a big messy hairdo, and it's even blonde! I'll beat you to death!"

  "How could you give Morpheus such an earthy name!"

  "Let you kill and set fire in China, rape and plunder!"

  "Making you dawdle and drag your feet, why didn't you come earlier to meet your death!"

  "I'll beat you to death, you stubborn thing!"

  Linghu Chong stepped out with the Lingbo Micro Step, constantly flashing, and the domineering palm technique was one palm after another, each palm hitting the flesh, heavily slapping on the body of Mo Luo Fa Wang, issuing a series of dull thuds.

  The Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms, a set of unparalleled palm techniques consisting of eighteen moves, was used by Linghu Chong in continuous cycles for three times. This shows how deep his resentment towards it is. Poor Mo Ruo Fa Wang, with his body trained in the Divine Body Skill that could move in and out of the void, couldn't withstand such a fierce and unpredictable palm strike combination. In just an instant, he was slapped more than fifty times, spitting out blood from his mouth without stopping, and his body kept making cracking sounds as his bones shattered. Finally, he was even slapped flying by the "Dragon's Remorse" move, crashing into a giant tree that had stood for a hundred years.

  Linghu Cong let out a long breath, slowly withdrew his power, and felt extremely pleased. He had never felt so great before. He looked in the direction where Mo Luo Fa Wang fell to the ground, and was suddenly shocked. He exclaimed: "Is this possible? You're going against heaven! With such talent, it's a waste not to be a sandbag!"

  This foreign monk, Mo Luo Fa Wang, was indeed gifted with extraordinary talent, his martial arts skills were extremely high, far exceeding the expectations of Ma Yi old man, and had already reached the peak of the highest level, comparable to those famous sects' leaders in the Central Plains, combined with his steel-like physique and innate divine strength, even an early-stage peerless expert might not be able to handle him.

  However, the move Linghu Chong used was the most powerful and domineering palm technique in the world, the "Descending Dragon Eighteen Palms", combined with the power of the "Nine Suns Divine Skill". Although he didn't use his full strength, these dozens of palms would be unbearable even for a top-notch master at the peak of their skills, let alone an ordinary late-stage master. Once hit, they would definitely fall over and turn pale.

  And now, a small outer trumpet of the ultimate peak realm, after being hit by so many moves, can still struggle to get up on its own.

  Linghu Chong gave Mo Ruo Fa Wang a thumbs up, walked to his front, stretched out his palm and patted on his shoulder: "What the hell did you eat when you were growing up? You're still not dead! If it was an ordinary Jianghu master who fought against you, they would probably suffer greatly. To show respect, I've decided to leave your corpse intact."

  Linghu Chong was just about to make a move to get rid of this scourge, when his face suddenly changed color. The true yuan in his dantian had lost control. Just now, in order to vent his anger, he used the Nine Suns Divine Skill to unleash the Dragon Subduing Eighteen Palms, consuming a lot of true yuan, which caused the golden elixir in his dantian to go berserk. A huge suction force extended from the golden elixir, and all the true yuan rushed towards it frantically, replenishing its energy.

  Maruo's face was filled with terror, he had already given up all hope and could only close his eyes and wait for death. But unexpectedly, the young man in front of him, who had been pressing down on him so hard that he couldn't breathe, suddenly turned pale and started trembling violently, as if he had suffered a severe internal injury. Although he didn't know what had happened, at this moment, Maruo was like a drowning person grasping for a straw to save his life, how could he let go of it?

  Moro Fa Wang exerted his full strength, slapping his right hand heavily towards Linghu Chong's dantian. His voice was rapid and excited as he shouted: "Dragon Elephant Palm ninth move, die!"

  The peerless divine art of the Dragon Elephant Prajna Technique is a supreme protective deity technique from the outer domain of the secret sect, divided into thirteen layers. After mastering it, one's palm strength becomes fierce and powerful, possessing the power of dragons and elephants, with each palm strike having the force of a thousand kilograms. Ordinary people who come into contact with it will die, while those who withstand it will be injured. The Demon King Mo Luo was born with extraordinary talent and managed to cultivate this divine art to the ninth layer, making his combat strength extremely powerful. Relying solely on this technique, although he has not yet reached the realm of a top-notch master, he can still challenge higher-level opponents and hold his own against early-stage masters without falling behind.

  In today's world, no one dares to withstand his full-strength palm strike without flinching or dodging. Therefore, he has every reason to believe that the guy in front of him, whose martial arts skills are so high that they make him feel desperate, is finished and will surely die under his palm strike, fulfilling his legend. He will make a magnificent comeback, turning the tables on the world.

  Iron Palm swiftly and rapidly slapped towards the most powerful enemy's fatal spot, Marolfawang's mouth corner revealed an extremely obscene smile, his whole body trembling, excited to the point of urinating directly.