The God of the Human Realm!

Chapter 119 I, the Daoist of Ten Thousand Tribulations
"You don't accept outside guests?"

"Coincidentally, I'm not here as a guest either."

Hong Yuan kept walking, his pace seemingly slow, but the burly monk only felt a blur before his eyes, and the other party had already swept past him and stepped into the inner courtyard of the Vajra Temple.

"Stop it!"

The imposing monk, with a stature as majestic as an iron tower, let out a loud shout, turned and lunged, reaching out to grab Hong Yuan's shoulder and back.

As the arm extends, the muscles bulge and contract, the five fingers are like iron, and it brings a sharp, powerful force.

To be able to serve as the guest monk of the Vajra Temple and guard the first gate of the inner courtyard, this burly monk must have considerable martial arts skills, having reached a level that combines strength and gentleness. With a grasp of his palm, he can even crush hard bluestone.

This attack was swift as an eagle's claw, swooping down only to miss its target.

The other party walked at a leisurely pace, seemingly outpaced even by a three-year-old child. However, just as the monk's claw struck, the other party moved like the wind, gracefully evading the grasping claw.

On the contrary, the monk who was in charge of the guest missed his target with his claw, and was unable to stop his momentum, so he staggered slightly.

He stopped, his face turning anxious, and he quickly chased after him, his hands reaching out repeatedly.

Chi Chi Chi!
The force tore through the air, emitting a short hissing sound. No matter how swift the monk's attack was or how tricky the angle, he always managed to dodge it by the narrowest of times.

"I told you to stop, didn't you hear me?"

The monk in charge of receiving guests was now truly enraged. His expression was furious, his fists clenched tightly, and he threw a punch with tremendous force, as if pushing a wooden pillar to strike a bell. He used all his strength to deliver the punch to the back of the other man.

Hong Yuan suddenly stopped in his tracks.

The guest monk's shouts startled the other monks, and in an instant, monks rushed out from all directions.

Bang!
The monk delivered a powerful punch to Hong Yuan's back, which surprised him slightly. He thought he would miss again, and his face contorted in shock.

Although the punch landed solidly, it felt like striking hundreds or thousands of steel needles, with sharp and fierce energy piercing deep into the fist.

Immediately afterwards, his entire fist exploded into a spray of blood, and as he let out an uncontrollable cry of pain, it felt as if an invisible fist had struck his chest, sending him flying backward.

"Senior Brother Liaofan!"

"Uncle Master!"

The group of monks from Vajra Temple who had gathered around changed their expressions drastically. A few of them went to check on the guest monk's injuries, while the rest glared at Hong Yuan with hostile expressions and full of vigilance.

An older, mature-looking monk waved his hand to stop several monks who were about to make a move. His gaze fell on Hong Yuan, and he squinted at him.

However, since Hong Yuan was still in disguise, he couldn't tell anything from him.

"Who are you? Why did you injure my disciples from the Vajra Temple?"

The old monk had his eyes lowered, revealing no emotion, and his voice was deep.

Hong Yuan spread his hands, his sleeves billowing like clouds, and laughed, "In broad daylight, monk, don't spout nonsense. I didn't even lift a finger, so what do you mean by hurting someone?"

"You can't frame someone just because I'm standing and he's lying down. No matter where you are, it's entirely your fellow disciple's fault..."

The old monk chuckled, raised his eyelids, and said calmly, "You took a punch from my senior brother Liaofan without getting hurt, and even injured him. Your martial arts are superb, I admire you!"

He said "I admire you" but his eyes turned sharp as blades: "But if you think you can run rampant in my Vajra Temple with your martial arts skills, you are mistaken. If you don't give me an explanation today, it will be hard to end this."

He and Liao Fan were of the same generation, and he knew that Liao Fan's martial arts skills were quite high. The person opposite him was able to knock Liao Fan away with the force of the counterattack, and was an even more unfathomable master.

But the seasoned monk remained unfazed, his words even carrying a hint of threat. This was Vajra Temple's territory, teeming with experts; how could they be bullied by an outsider?

In this world, the top sects are like aristocratic families, royal families, and nobles, each ruling their own territory and dominating their own domain.

Furthermore, with the loss of power in the central government of the Great Yin Dynasty and the nearly one hundred years of decline, there has been no restraint whatsoever. Perhaps there are a very few virtuous individuals among these sects.

However, when it comes to the whole picture, none of these long-standing sects and families are not corrupt and bloodthirsty.

Without constraints, desires can be amplified infinitely.

Hong Yuan didn't even bother to dig deeper.

After all, he's not exactly a moral exemplar, so he doesn't need to occupy the moral high ground to take action.

The reason I attacked the Vajra Temple this time was simply because I discovered that the true skill could improve my physical constitution, which is why I had the idea of ​​collecting the true skill.

"An explanation?" Hong Yuan smiled slightly, a long, slender, fair hand emerging from his robe sleeve, beckoning to the old monk with his finger: "Is this an acceptable explanation?"

"Good!" The old monk's face suddenly turned cold. He suddenly grabbed a string of prayer beads from his chest and with a flick of his wrist, the beads shot out like a storm, striking Hong Yuan's vital points.

At the same time, he stepped back and landed among the monks who were protecting him, and shouted: "Disciples, listen to my command! Form a formation and capture this fiend!"

Before the man finished speaking, Hong Yuan chuckled lightly, neither dodging nor avoiding, and with his five fingers gently pressing forward as if playing a zither string.

Wow!

The air suddenly became thick, and the dozens of beads that were shot at it were like fish stuck in a swamp, unable to move, and then one by one they were thrown into Hong Yuan's palm.

"Back to you!"

The next moment, he raised his hand, and the beads shot out like arrows, far surpassing the power and speed of the old monk's attack.

The group of monks from the Vajra Temple had no time to form a battle formation before the beads pierced their bodies, causing them to scream in agony. It was only because Hong Yuan avoided the vital points that many of them were killed or injured.

The old monk clapped his hands together, trying to block the incoming beads, but one of the beads pierced his palm. He groaned but didn't scream.

He retreated several steps, and when he saw the group of disciples lying on the ground, his face turned extremely ugly.

"Amitabha!"

Suddenly, a Buddhist chant rang out, and then two monks, one tall and one short, slowly walked out of the main hall. They were dressed in gray robes and straw sandals.

The two monks stood in front of the hall, ignoring the injured disciples, and looked indifferently at Hong Yuan.

The slightly tall, elderly monk had long eyebrows, drooping eyes, a sallow complexion, and sunken cheeks. He said indifferently, "With such martial arts skills, why bother fighting with the younger generation?"

Hong Yuan countered with, "How should I address the two masters?"

The sallow-skinned old monk said calmly, "This old monk will gladly accept your offering."

He then gestured to another short monk with a round face and big ears: "This is my junior brother, Huizhen."

Hong Yuan said, "So it was a high-ranking monk of the Hui generation in person. My apologies for my disrespect."

"Senior brother, why bother being polite to this person!" The big-eared monk Huizhen sneered and stepped forward: "Young man, you dare to injure my Vajra Temple disciples, what is your backing? What sect or school do you belong to? State your name."

"A title?" Hong Yuan concealed his true identity and naturally wouldn't reveal his real name at this moment. He smiled slightly and said, "Just call me 'Wan Jie Dao Ren' (Taoist of Ten Thousand Tribulations). As for my sect affiliation, hehe, I'm just a wandering swordsman in the martial world."

(End of this chapter)