Starting with Naruto, I'll become stronger through my own efforts.

Chapter 82 Shaolin Temple's Signature Skill: One-on-One Combat

The two blue-robed monks followed the directions, but they still looked completely bewildered.

The youngest monk asked, "Uncle-Master, I really can't see anything special about him, he just seems very comfortable."

The monk in the yellow robe chuckled and said, "It's good that you feel comfortable. You feel comfortable because his clothes are not nice. If you could mentally change his robe like I do, hehe, then you would know what royal grandeur is."

The two blue-robed monks gasped: "Could it be—he's a son of the King of Zhou?"

The monk in the yellow robe said helplessly, "How would I know?"

"We have eleven princes in Henan: the King of Zhou, the King of Hui, the King of Tang, the King of Ru, the King of Lu, the King of Zhao, the King of Fu, the King of Yi, the King of Xiu, the King of Chong, and the King of Wei. How am I supposed to guess?"

As an ancient temple with a history of over a thousand years, Shaolin Temple is often visited by dignitaries who come to burn incense and pray for blessings.

The princes of the Ming Dynasty were treated like pigs, kept in the city and allowed to commit all sorts of evil deeds. As a result, many oddballs emerged from the descendants of the Zhu family.

Their only opportunity to leave the city was on a few days, such as the anniversary of Mother's Passing and the current emperor's birthday, when they would go to the royal temple to worship and pray for blessings.

These princes, nobles, and princesses, driven mad by their pent-up desires, went wild, disguising themselves as ordinary people in white robes—it was practically standard practice for them, showing no fear of being assassinated.

They'd love for something to happen, to add some fun to their pig-like lives.

The two blue-robed monks were drenched in cold sweat and repeatedly thanked their uncle for the reminder.

What was amusement for the princes was the greatest danger for these lowly monks.

One wrong move and you might face the most terrifying killing move of the Ming Dynasty: the Imperial Escape Technique - the Nine Clans Separation Technique.

Although being a guest monk is a very well-paid profession, it's not worth sacrificing one's entire family for it.

The monk in the yellow robe chuckled and said, "Actually, it's not necessarily a prince. Another possibility is a martial arts master, and an old monster who has reached the pinnacle of martial arts, returned to simplicity, and become young again."

"If you had held them off, you might have done a great service to Shaolin."

The two blue-robed monks waved their hands repeatedly, saying, "No, no, that's still death."

The three monks were chatting and laughing in hushed tones, and just as they were about to forget about Xia Zuo, a muffled thud suddenly came from the direction of the Dharma Hall in the backyard.

Like a muffled clap of thunder on a clear day, the sound wasn't loud, but the ground shook violently.

The monks and guests, who were not skilled in martial arts, fell to the ground and let out various screams.

Not only people fell, but also dust billowed up from the Buddhist temples, and many roof tiles fell off, leaving the ground in a mess.

The three monks, who were in charge of the reception, lay prostrate on the ground, looking at each other in dismay, thinking: We're doomed!

That young man is truly a legendary martial arts master!

Xia Zuo had no idea that after advancing to the Celestial Realm, the unity of his mind and body manifested as royal nobility. With this aura, he was able to move freely within the Shaolin Temple without any monks intervening.

This is completely opposite to what Guo Jingming experienced in Zhongnan Mountain two hundred years ago.

So, Xia Zuo even visited places he couldn't go to in his previous life.

Until he tried to pass through the Bodhidharma Academy to reach the six-story Sutra Repository, an old monk with a face like a pine tree finally stopped him.

"Benefactor, this is the important Bodhidharma Academy of Shaolin Temple. Only disciples of the Bodhidharma Academy are allowed to enter."

Xia Zuo looked at the old monk and chuckled: "Under the whole heaven, all land belongs to the king. On the shores of the earth, all people are subjects of the king."

"Monk, whose temple and this mountain do you own?"

The old monk put his palms together in a gesture of respect and said, "Mount Song and Mount Shaoshi naturally belong to my Shaolin Temple. This was bestowed upon us by Emperor Taizong of Tang."

"But the world now belongs to my Great Ming Dynasty. You monks have used the titles and privileges bestowed by previous dynasties to seize the land and territory of the Great Ming Dynasty—"

"Is it not quite appropriate?"

Old monk: "————"

He smiled and said, "Benefactor, we Buddhists don't just talk about principles; sometimes we also use physical force."

"After all, even Buddha couldn't help but roar like a lion sometimes."

Xia Zuo had come here to cause trouble, and hearing this was exactly what he wanted to hear.

He laughed loudly, "Oh, you should have said so earlier! Come on!"

Xia Zuo stepped forward, aimed at the monk's bald head, and slapped it down.

This move is without any set pattern or style; it's the Summer Eight-Fight routine that everyone knows.

But even with Xia Zuo's skill level, he still managed to create a mysterious and inexplicable effect.

At least in the old monk's eyes, this was a strike from the heavens, like a gazelle hanging its horns, like a white rainbow piercing the sun, an almost unstoppable divine revelation.

The old monk, having no hair, felt an even greater tightness in his scalp, and almost instinctively, he unleashed his strongest martial art with a palm strike.

【Mighty Vajra Palm】

When the withered, thin palm collided with the long, powerful palm, the old monk felt as if he had been crushed by Mount Song, and his inner energy was instantly shattered.

If a person is crushed by Mount Song, the result is, of course, death.

Fortunately, Xia Zuo was not actually from Mount Song, and he stopped his power in time. Apart from deflecting the old monk's palm strike, he did not directly attack the old monk.

On the contrary, the old monk, in his panic, used too much force and released most of his true energy into this [Vajra Palm], leaving him with no ability to resist when it rebounded.

Fortunately, the old monk's arm immediately broke off inch by inch, dissipating half of his true energy.

Even more fortunately, the ground beneath the old monk's feet was shattered by Xia Zuo's tremor, and he was slammed into the ground by his own palm strike, sacrificing his waist and below to survive.

But in such a violent impact, the old monk suffered an unprecedented shock; his skin cracked all over his body, and blood flowed out like a waterfall.

The old monk, covered entirely in red, had lost consciousness and looked utterly miserable.

The monks at the Bodhidharma Monastery were all stunned.

But the monks also knew that this young man was not the heir of some prince.

The princes of Zhu were not allowed to receive cultural education, nor were they allowed to receive advanced martial arts training. At most, they had fancy but ineffective moves, and would not have such terrifying martial arts skills.

Therefore, Xia Zuo's identity was finally confirmed: he was an enemy of Shaolin Temple!

Faced with the enemy, the mediocre monks picked up their precept knives, while the monks who had cultivated to the level of first-rate masters channeled their inner energy and unleashed the 72 unique skills they had mastered.

The monks of the Bodhidharma Academy were mainly skilled in hand techniques, such as the "Left and Right Flower Hand," "Shaolin Double Circle Hand," "Great Stele-Smashing Hand," "Prajna Hand," "Vajra Hand," "Prajna Zen Palm," "Weituo Palm," "Shaolin Eight Divine Palms," and "Thousand-Hand Tathagata Palm," all of which were unleashed upon Xia Zuo.

Seeing the Shaolin monks surround him, Xia Zuo laughed and said, "It really is a one-on-one fight!"

"None of the 72 Shaolin Arts are as powerful as this signature skill of the Shaolin Temple. A group of monks can take on me one by one."

"But you've got the wrong target. I, Xia Zuo, am not someone you can take down just by being surrounded."

As Xia Zuo spoke, he reached out and grabbed a crooked, withered branch from the corner. He shook it gently, and it transformed into a sky full of sword shadows that surged towards the monks of all ages like a tide.