With Countless Qualities Bestowed Upon Me, I Shall Ultimately Become Immortal-Chapter 601 - 547: Power That Reaches the Heavens! My Home Is Gone! The Grandmaster’s Request! (6k)
The Shaolin True Skill that Liao Qing was cultivating was focused on building stability and taking root on the spot.
Coupled with the Arhat Stance, they complemented each other perfectly.
Instead of dashing to exert all-out effort, it aimed to remain in place and utilize hands, trying to make Liao Qing move.
Liao Hai, who bore a striking resemblance to Tang Monk, self-admittedly could never achieve that.
On one side.
The stronger monks Liao Yuan and Liao Chen, both slightly focused, awaited the showdown between the two.
Liao Qing’s strength was in no way inferior to theirs.
What each of them learned had different focuses, making it hard to determine who would win or lose.
Liao Chen spit out the seed shell in his mouth and smiled slightly:
"The Buddha feels that Donor Meng is likely to win."
Liao Yuan shifted in his chair, appearing as though he couldn’t bear the weight.
He gave a sidelong glance, his expression mocking:
"Is it because you’ve endured suffering that you choose to believe?"
Liao Yuan spoke, poking at a sore spot for Liao Chen.
Liao Chen’s body froze briefly, muttering to himself:
"...Don’t force the Buddha to slap you."
"Stop bickering, these two are about to make a move."
Liao Hai interrupted the conversation between the two senior brothers.
Having said that, he put down his crossed legs, focusing his gaze intently on Meng Chuan.
As a fellow follower of the Xingyi Sect’s Five Elements, he was truly curious about how Donor Meng had been training...
Mastering the martial intention of the Two Limits was something I’ve never heard of...
...
At this moment, the courtyard was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
There wasn’t much to say, better to finish the contest early and proceed to the evening’s cultivation classes.
Meng Chuan cupped his hands in a salute:
"Shall we?"
Liao Chen shook his leg’s root briskly, stirring up a puff of dust, and put his palms together:
"Donor Meng, please."
As his words fell, Liao Qing took a deep breath.
The flesh on both sides of his cheeks, like a toad’s breathing, swelled up high.
Gulp!
The sound was startlingly loud.
As he swallowed that breath, it was as if he had swallowed a billiard ball.
A spherical Qi Strength protruded from his throat in a lump, sliding down his neck.
It flowed into his legs, wafting the ethereal golden silk, rooting him to the ground.
"Oh?"
Meng Chuan watched the tall, thin monk bracing his stance, nodding secretly, noting some supernatural aspects.
The visible golden silk seemed to alter the magnetic field beneath his feet.
Using this as a medium, it was as though he merged with the earth, rammed firmly down.
If that’s the case for him, I must also show some skill...
Surely, I can’t stand less stable than him despite having more strength, right?
The special 60 battle merits freely available couldn’t just be easily handed over.
Meng Chuan’s thoughts spun, no longer restraining the force beneath his feet.
Allowing the weight of six to seven tons to transmit from his entire body to his legs, cascading down from point to surface, layer by layer.
A cracking noise came from the ground, slender cracks spreading from beneath his feet, resembling the precursor of an earthquake collapse.
Bang!
Dust scattered!
Waving away the haze before his eyes, Liao Chen’s eyes bulged round as he stood up with a thud, his chair toppling skew onto the ground.
Staring intently at Meng Chuan, his face turned green...
This darn kid, he actually cracked the ground in his own courtyard...
Meng Chuan steeled his resolve, unable to care much!
Even giving the fat monk a new home could hardly compare to the precious special battle merit!
Onward!
With more strength accumulating downward, the ground beneath his feet suddenly splintered.
Countless cracks extended from where Meng Chuan stood, radiating outward, the air echoing with the sharp sound of tearing silk.
Time seemed to stand still.
Everyone looked down in disbelief to see Meng Chuan, half of his body sunk into the ground...
Only his upper body was exposed, from the waist down, all deeply embedded in the earth.
Truly rooted to the spot...
"No, Amitabha—how heavy are you?"
Liao Chen was truly a bit anxious, forgetting to address him as "Donor."
The courtyard being his own, who would feel pained by its ruin if not himself?
Meng Chuan had his back to the fat monk, silent.
There was no time for explanations.
Before him, Liao Qing had already made his move.
He could not afford to be concerned about Liao Chen’s feelings.
His opponent was not weak, not only a Three-Limit Master but also one of the Shaolin’s Twelve Diamonds, even ranking above Liao Chen.
His frame appeared slender, not seeming like a powerhouse.
But in the instant he swung his arms, all assumptions were shattered!
Liao Qing, unreserved in exerting strength, had overwhelming and unparalleled power.
A spiritual turtle subtly appeared behind him, clinging to his back, as weighty as a mountain.
The monk’s robe around his waist swirled and tore, revealing a broad and firm waistline.
The waistline flowed like water, without the slightest extra flesh, swelling with explosive power as he turned to exert it, exhibiting clearly defined robust muscles.
The turtle shell served as a foundation, stabilizing his entire body.
The tiger-like waist exerted, strength like a fierce tiger.
This captaincy was his to claim!
In an instant, the tall, thin monk Liao Qing burst forth with golden light; his arm, with veins taut like a leaping tiger, coiled tightly together.
The entire arm expanded significantly, with mountain-splitting, river-overturning power surging forth like the tides of the Qiantang River!
Gales roared through the air, with the palm wind bending all the trees in the courtyard towards Meng Chuan.
As his palm descended, it seemed like a spiritual turtle riding a roaring tiger approached, leaping over a stream, revealing visible rips in the air.
The three melon-eating monks also had serious expressions.
>This palm coming down, no need to think about enduring it motionless without retreating even half a step.
Dodging was a must!
In those critical moments, a blue-purple glow flared in Liao Chen’s peripheral vision.
Meng Chuan slightly hunched his back, with his entire posture sinking, his center of gravity lowered.
Twisting his body to drive his cross beneath the ground...
In the following instant, his right hand thrust forward like a spearshaft, with the arm not circling to gather strength, directly pushing out a palm!
Buzz—!
The palm wind manifested, true qi along the palm edge rampaged like a tornado, the air stirring with ear-shattering waves, the world seeming to freeze at this moment, moving bit by bit with the palm wind pushed out by Meng Chuan.
Not only that, his right arm locally released, perversely growing.
Instantly growing into an exaggerated form, with a thickness comparing to tree trunks embraced by two men.
Wrapped in a black membrane, reflecting a dark hue, taut muscles knit together, veins bulging.
