With Countless Qualities Bestowed Upon Me, I Shall Ultimately Become Immortal-Chapter 587 - 539: Twelve Vajras! Karma Dragonfire! The Arrival of Fanluo!
Apart from the very few monks who are undisturbed by external matters and are dedicated to practicing their martial arts.
The rest are gathered far away, watching over here.
"Do you think, can this little demon defeat Liao Chen?"
A thin monk looked toward the edge of the field, asking with raised eyebrows.
The monks were unanimous, nodding their heads.
"If Senior Brother Liao Chen goes all out, there’s no way this boy could win, even if he employs those techniques that enhance his strength through body transformation, it will be of no avail."
Very few monks also acknowledge Meng Chuan’s strength.
But the stark reality stands before them, hesitating a few times, they slowly spoke:
"Ultimately, it’s a difference in hard strength, the disparity between Two Limits and Three Limits is vast, incomparable, especially considering his opponent is Senior Brother Liao Chen..."
In everyone’s mind, this big fat monk far surpasses Hui Yuan, who is also a Martial Arts Master!
From afar, the elder monk Shi Nan had just finished educating his disciples.
Noticing the movement between the two, he slowly walked over to remind them:
"With the new floor, both of you should take it easy, don’t intentionally cause damage."
Having learned from past experiences, Meng Chuan nodded in agreement:
"Senior, I am self-aware."
The big fat monk also nodded with his hands in prayer, not intending to exert force on the floor, not looking for trouble.
The elder monk stood at the center, glancing around, seeing the burning flames in their eyes.
He naturally understood, both were ready to go all out and determine a decisive outcome.
He pressed his hands together in prayer, advising Meng Chuan and Liao Chen:
"In the martial arts among monks, peace is of utmost value, as the Buddha said: It’s better to seek his faults, intending to subdue the waves but never seeking victory, Buddha does not speak thus."
Liao Chen returned the bow, with his hands in prayer:
"Disciple understands."
Meng Chuan also comprehended the meaning behind these words, the Buddha suggested using reason rather than force to convince others, as using force only leads to endless conflict.
Yet his fists stand for reason...
The words spoken are reason, some fools never understand human speech.
At this moment, what’s held tightly becomes even more precious.
But he does not argue, the elder monk merely reminds the two to be mindful of their limits, not to let anger take over.
Without entering liberation mode, he can keep himself under control.
Meng Chuan also bowed:
"Junior is aware."
Shi Nan, seeing the two being "obedient and well-behaved," loosened his expression and nodded secretly.
After thinking for a while, he raised his arms, stretching to the maximum angle.
With his fingers in a gripping form, he clenched the empty space.
Meng Chuan sensed the air around, flooded with mysterious forces, with the magnetic field changing invisibly.
This was the elder monk’s Intention, initially attaching the airflow to the ground, forming a thin membrane.
With a sudden sound, the elder monk pulled his hands back to the center of his chest.
A rustling sound came from the horizon, clouds and mist lingering, not dispersing.
It was as if capturing the vast moisture in the air, converting it into cloud and mist, enveloping the entire training ground.
Before Meng Chuan could wonder what this move was for.
In the next instant, as the elder monk’s arms stretched again, the mist seemed to be gripped by an invisible giant hand, swiftly swept to the surroundings by a huge air wave.
Following, the elder monk’s Heart Spirit concentrated, solidifying the mist.
The originally dispersed cloud and mist immediately transformed into a surrounding cloud wall, forming a natural circular boundary.
The elder monk stood with hands behind his back, his voice drifting:
"The field is two hundred in length and width, stepping out counts as losing."
Seeing a cloud wall rising from the ground, monks crowded in, standing by the edge, not affecting the duel between the two.
Meng Chuan, after observing for a while, was equally astonished by the Grandmaster’s means.
He could at most control the magnetic field around him within ten zhang, already the limit of his Heart Spirit.
In terms of the direct manifestation of Heart Spirit power, the elder monk nearly equaled seven times of his own.
However, this was certainly not the other’s limit...
He was still young, yet to reach Two Limits, how could he compare with a Grandmaster.
Meng Chuan comforted himself for a while, then focused on the big fat monk.
He could sense the aura, the other’s mind was very active, as if plotting something wicked...
Just as he suspected, Liao Chen turned his head and got an idea.
On his chubby face, a harmless smile appeared, hands in prayer towards him:
"Amitabha—Donor Meng, the duel between us is not for profit, but to witness cultivation, isn’t that right?"
Meng Chuan knew this fat monk had something mischief on his mind, yet responded:
"That’s correct."
Liao Chen’s smile became even brighter:
"Since it’s to witness cultivation, then we need a trophy as proof.
No matter who wins or loses, the trophy also serves as a reminder for both to adhere to the precept ’[Comparison, not victory]’.
"..."
Meng Chuan was speechless.
To wager is to wager, speaking with such literary elegance...
"...Is this precept really used this way? If I win, doesn’t Master want to win back?"
Liao Chen solemnly:
"Certainly not, this is an obstacle."
"Alright, then what does Master want to bet...what should be used as the prize?"
Almost misspoke, my bad, my bad...
Nonetheless, he is the little prince of gambling, undefeated to date.
This match blessed with fortune.
The big fat monk will surely lose!
Liao Chen gave a hearty smile, extending his chubby hand, rummaging in the tattered cloth bag hanging at his waist.
A moment later, he took out a dark green fruit about the size of a ping-pong ball.
The surface of the fruit was covered with fine black lines, making the verdant color appear dark.
In addition, a few centimeters of fruit stem had not been trimmed off, looking quite fresh.
Meng Chuan clicked his tongue in wonder, first glancing at the fruit, then staring at its waist.
The appearance of a precious storage item, truly bizarre.
The fat monk’s cloth bag looked shabby, yet unexpectedly a valuable item.
With a change of thought, seeing the other offering this peculiar fruit, explained:
"Donor Meng, this is a fifty-year-old snake scale fruit, only produced in small quantities in Demon Nests with secondary or higher [Rainforest] elemental phenomena, hence quite rare."
Meng Chuan nodded, he recalled.
This fruit is indeed a treasure, ranked among second-tier items, fairly rare.
