lovenovelstory Chapter 52 Rain Falls, Killing the World
Chapter 52 Rain Falls, Killing the World
No two martial artists are exactly alike, and therefore no two martial arts skills are exactly the same.
Even if it's the same manual and the same technique, if two qigong masters with completely opposite personalities practice it, their thoughts and actions will be reflected in vastly different ways in battle.
Making a kind-hearted martial artist practice insidious and vicious techniques would not only restrict their abilities, but also result in combat effectiveness that falls far short of expectations.
Mindset, thoughts, and will—these seemingly ethereal structures are the very essence of a Qigong master's craft.
There's a saying in the martial arts world: third-rate martial artists compete on moves and techniques, second-rate martial artists compete on the depth of their skill, and truly first-rate martial artists are judged solely on their magnanimity and character.
That's because at the level of top experts, everyone's moves and skills have been honed to perfection, and the key to determining victory or defeat lies only in their mental will.
This statement actually applies to combat at any level. When there is no significant difference in skill and energy reserves, the level of one's mental state determines how much power a Qi Master can unleash with a martial art.
An excellent martial art requires a suitable temperament and disposition to activate.
This applies even to players on the cross-platform. If their mindset fails to align with the skill's requirements, then even if the skill's completeness is at its maximum, its credibility will be stuck at the last moment when creating the skill.
This credibility index serves two purposes: firstly, it involves comprehensively analyzing the future prospects of the skill, and secondly, it assesses whether the player's current physical and mental condition is sufficient to bring the skill from theory into reality.
For ordinary Qigong masters who are not players, mental discipline is even more important.
Ma Cheng became a disciple of a Western demonic sect and received spiritual initiation, which enabled him to master the profound Vajra Pestle technique.
Otherwise, given his temperament, it would probably take him more than ten years to achieve the grand ambition of the Dharma Protector Vajra to "sever all afflictions and attachments and suppress all evil spirits and heretics in the world."
This pestle technique, in terms of its power to destroy true qi, is considered top-grade among white-quality martial arts. Furthermore, it is enhanced by the spiritual attack of profound true qi, and has a deterrent effect on all those who are weak-willed, indecisive, and treacherous.
He could often smash an enemy's head in a single encounter. He also loved watching people's heads explode like pumpkins being pounded in a stone.
However, at this moment, Ma Cheng was facing only the simplest and most straightforward palm strike, which was so slow that even a quick-witted child could dodge it, let alone a skilled martial artist.
But he just couldn't dodge it. Just like the raindrops around him, he was pulled, dragged, and carried by an invisible yet substantial force. The raindrops swirled and danced within a few feet of him, shimmering like the scales of a thousand carp in the gloomy sunlight. All the onlookers could see the dense and complex swarm of colorless dragons and snakes surging about.
At this moment, Ma Cheng couldn't even take a single step, let alone dodge. He was already in the mire of dragons, struggling to move forward. The true energy accumulated in the short pestle in his hand tried to break through the wandering forces, but it was like a sail entering the sea, being battered by countless huge waves and undercurrents. Even with tremendous effort, he could only move a tiny distance.
Even if the opponent uses a slow-to-fast approach and strikes later, you can still hit them first.
Faced with this calm and slow palm strike, the guardian Vajra's mighty spirit had already waned due to fear.
Ma Cheng's face was filled with fear. Even though his opponent had not used a single trace of Xuanji True Qi, he could still feel a violent mental impact.
Ultimately, any type of thought or energy is a manifestation of the mind.
Even when it comes to destroying true energy, some achieve it with sharp arrogance, some with furious ferocity, and some with courage and fearlessness. Even if onlookers cannot perceive these emotions, how could two martial artists facing each other not sense each other's fighting spirit? Sensing the spirituality contained within one's inner energy is simply an instinct of a Qi master!
Ma Cheng's pestle ritual contained a kind of spiritual intimidation, much like the clay idols enshrined in temples. Even if they were decorated with gold and silver and made to look magnificent, they could only fool some fools who prayed to gods and Buddhas.
Now, he felt as if he, the Dharma Protector Vajra, was standing before a surging river from the sky. He saw turbid waves crashing against the shore, stirring up countless white dragons. The waves crashed down, destroying mountains and valleys, seemingly obscuring the clouds, submerging the sun and moon, and drowning the fleeing birds. How could such terror and magnificence not terrify him, this clay Bodhisattva and false Vajra?
If one is afraid in the face of battle, even if one has ten percent of their strength, they can only exert half of it.
Although it sounds slow, the actual confrontation happens in the blink of an eye.
Everyone saw Lin Zhuo strike out with a flat palm, and Ma Cheng neither dodged nor avoided it, but met it with the short iron pestle.
Cui Luoyan and the others were hoping to see the boy's hands crack and bones break, but instead they heard a loud, earth-shaking explosion. The short pestle turned into a streak of black light and flew diagonally into the sky, eventually landing in the woods on the outskirts of the town.
Ma Cheng stood still, without taking a step back, but his body staggered and swayed.
His hands trembled violently, his tiger's mouth was torn open and bleeding, his tendons were torn and his bones were cracked, and he was in excruciating pain.
Escape is impossible. Fighting means certain death.
Lin Zhuo, standing before him, had already begun preparing his second strike.
The power of the Fallen Dragon's palm strike is never fully utilized; instead, three-tenths is left to transform into a hidden dragon that runs through the sea of qi, adding extra power for the next strike.
Therefore, the palm force accumulates and becomes stronger. If one cannot withstand the first blow, one will be even less able to withstand the next two blows.
Ma Cheng's face was pale, and he mustered all his strength to fight to the death.
Unaware of the truth, Lü Jiaojiao, standing behind, assumed the leading elder was slightly outmatched and immediately shouted, "Give it your all! How did you get outdone by a little beast?"
"Idiot, shut up!" Cui Luoyan glared at her, her voice sharp and stern. "Don't just stand there like idiots! Boss Ma is in bad shape, let's all attack together and kill these bastards, along with the remnants of the Tie family!"
As soon as they made a move, Qingde and Tie Yingjie drew their swords and charged forward, each stopping Mei Tianli and Lü Jiaojiao. The remaining eight Night Rain Pavilion disciples split into two groups: half to help surround and kill Lin Zhuo, and the other half to pursue Shu Yuliu.
Cui Luoyan also attacked Lin Zhuo, raising her hand to throw out two blue willow-leaf darts, which were coated with poison called "Longing for Love". The poison would dissolve upon contact with blood and flow through the body. Those hit would suffer unbearable pain and would often wail for three days before dying. Before dying, they would be emaciated and suffer from lovesickness.
The dart was imbued with power, as strong as a crossbow bolt, and shot out like lightning. However, once it entered the six-foot radius around Lin Zhuo, it was immediately blocked by the surging dragons, and its remaining power was dissipated. Not only did the poisoned dart fail to take effect, but it was also swept along and shot towards Ma Cheng.
"Oh dear! I'm so sorry, Boss Ma!" Cui Luoyan exclaimed.
Ma Cheng felt dejected. He gathered his strength in both palms and clashed with Lin Zhuo once again.
A thunderous roar—like the thunder god's fury.
Ma Cheng's arms were both severed and hung limply at his sides. His chest was riddled with holes from poisoned darts, and he was clearly on the verge of death, with no strength left to fight.
Cui Luoyan and four assassins surrounded him, but as soon as they got close, they noticed why Boss Ma looked so strained.
Lin Zhuo didn't care about anything else. He used the Jade Belt Mountain Entangling Technique as an extra layer of protection. Ignoring the incoming swords and shadows, he focused on the seemingly weakest assassin and struck out with his third palm.
This attack had already reached its limit of power. Even without any cultivation, the clumsy dragon descended to earth could still unleash six times the destructive power of true qi. Moreover, with the bonus from the "Marrow Refining and Blood Transformation Longevity Method," his true qi power was already far superior to that of ordinary martial artists.
The thunderclap caused ripples to spread across the Qingshui River, raindrops flew into the air and flowed backwards, and fish swimming underwater jumped in fright.
The Night Rain Pavilion disciple who was targeted died instantly. His iron sword was shattered by the force of the palm strike and landed on his chest. His entire chest collapsed and was pressed against his back. His heart, lungs, and internal organs were pulverized and squeezed out from the crack in his chest. Blood gushed from his seven orifices and his eyes bulged out.
The horrific scene made the other assassins weak in the knees.
Cui Luoyan struggled to pull Ma Cheng away from the fighting, calling out, "Boss Ma! Boss Ma!"
Ma Cheng's eyes were bloodshot, but his expression remained calm. He didn't look at the wasp woman in front of him, but stared at the gloomy rainy sky and muttered something in a low voice.
Cui Luoyan leaned closer to listen, and Ma Cheng said, "...Truly, what a spirit!"
After saying this, he breathed his last and then fell silent.
The wasp lady heard another loud bang in her ears and looked around.
Qingde forced Mei Tianli into a corner, launching a barrage of traps and hidden attacks, ruthless and unpredictable, yet unable to break through the Heavenly Water Flowing Sword Technique, the true inheritance of the White Egret Sword Sect. Overwhelmed by the Taoist's righteous and imposing force, Mei Tianli's defeat was already evident.
Tie Yingjie's family swordsmanship was also quite strong, but he couldn't break through Lü Jiaojiao's protective divine skill, and the two were locked in a fierce battle with no clear winner.
The four disciples who were chasing them in the distance were actually being toyed with by a tabby cat, while Shu Yuliu danced like the wind, with continuous drumbeats. Although there was no seductive gaze from Yanxing, she still managed to bewitch the assassins, causing them to lose their composure and their moves to become chaotic.
The scariest one was that short-haired young man.
He continued to strike, even when he was cut and bleeding, he did not dodge or evade. It was difficult for others to kill him, but he could kill someone with just one strike.
Only two assassins remained, and they could only withstand two of his attacks.
Cui Luoyan knew that she could only try to inflict a fatal wound on this person in two moves.
There is no escape; betraying the Wise and Brave Heavenly King will only lead to death.
So she chose to pounce on him, as if she had thrown herself into the sea.