Chapter 48: The Sword's Destruction, Triple Causality, Three Conditions

The shadow of the staff covered the heavens, chaotic yet orderly, stirring a storm of vital energy and sealing off all paths of retreat; with one strike, not even gods or demons could escape. At that very moment, the old monk at the front moved as well.

“Demon-Subduing Divine Palm!” His entire force surged forth, transforming into a palm print that struck toward Jiang Ming’s chest. Not only did it preserve the staff shadow’s Dao rhythm, it made the attack even more terrifying.

Jiang Ming gathered his energy into a sword and swept it through the air. An overwhelming aura of slaughter erupted, severing the myriad shadows of staffs. The shock of power sent everyone flying.

“Impossible!” The old monk was thrown back, spitting a mouthful of blood, and stared at a sword mark on his chest that nearly cleaved him in two. His face was contorted in disbelief.

“The Demon-Subduing Formation, combined with my secret technique, is something even a Grandmaster cannot withstand. Yet you broke it with a casual strike and gravely wounded me.” He looked as though he had seen a ghost.

Jiang Ming gave no answer. The longsword in his hand shattered with a bang. With a flick of his wrist, it transformed into the fastest and sharpest flying blades, piercing the foreheads of each foe.

Even the old monk at the front could not evade; his brow was penetrated, his eyes glared at Jiang Ming, his lips trembled, and he fell dead.

Jiang Ming glanced upward, then lifted his hem and ascended the steps.

The crowd that had gathered was utterly shocked.

“The formation of thirty-six innate staff monks can contend with Grandmasters, yet it was broken with a single sword. Am I seeing things, or am I dreaming? No matter how strong he is, he shouldn’t be this powerful!”

“Terrifyingly strong, strong enough to make one’s heart tremble.”

“Does anyone know that old monk? If you do, it’s even more frightening. He is Master Guangfa, with seniority that scares people. Though he’s not a Grandmaster, he’s a top-tier Master. After using a secret technique, he can contend with Grandmasters for a short time, and even when joining the staff formation, he was thrown aside and killed with a casual strike.”

“It’s making my blood boil!”

“More than just boiling, some people are already overwhelmed!”

After a moment of silence came endless cries of astonishment.

Those who came to watch were all powerful figures.

Such a scene of slaughter, such inhuman strength, and the rapid pace of the battle were beyond belief.

Even Lu Yuan was in awe. He sighed, “I thought that after my breakthrough, my strength would be close to his. But now, the gap only grows wider. Even a casual strike from him carries supreme power. It’s as if a martial god has descended, heaven’s favored son.”

“Yes!” Captain Jin pursed her red lips, her eyes somewhat hazy. “That thigh is too thick.”

“You should know best how thick his thigh is,” Lu Yuan remarked strangely.

Captain Jin shot him a glare and quickly followed.

“Brother Jiang has gained another little admirer!” Lu Yuan pinched his chin. “Xiao Lan is one, and the ninth princess looks at him differently. That gifted prodigy, whose martial talent surpasses mine, was subdued after only a few encounters, and he doesn’t even realize it. Then there’s this little firecracker, who strives to become the divine constable; surely Jiang Ming’s image is branded in her heart as well.”

“Envious, so envious! Such peerless beauties—why doesn’t a single one fancy me? Perhaps, I should showcase my Grandmaster’s prowess someday and see if beauties flock to me. Surely there’ll be more than one, perhaps countless.”

Lost in his thoughts, Lu Yuan smiled, moved his feet, and quickly covered ten meters to catch up.

Other strong figures also ascended the steps.

The Great Forest Temple was situated atop Cloud Mountain, shrouded in mist and sandalwood incense, the sound of bells faintly echoing, exuding an air of tranquility.

On the side of the railing, several senior monks bent over to observe.

Upon witnessing the staff formation broken and Master Guangfa slain, all bowed their heads and recited Amitabha.

“Abbot, the demon is too strong. What should we do?” The other monks all looked to the central figure, the Abbot of Great Forest Temple, Master Pudu. His head gleamed, his white beard flowed over his chest, and he held prayer beads, counting them one by one while murmuring unknown scriptures.

He paused for a moment.

“Amitabha, he is not merely strong—he surpasses imagination,” the Abbot intoned as he turned the beads, his voice heavy. “Our previous arrangements are futile. To subdue this demon, we must set aside all grudges and unite with others. Brother Puguang, Brother Pufa, guide everyone to the Hall of White Clouds. There, we will subdue the demon.”

“Brothers, we have long analyzed Jiang Ming’s temperament. He is vengeful, and once he acts, he leaves none alive. Do not harbor any illusions.”

“He arrived slowly, making a spectacle and gathering his strength. His purpose is to destroy our sect.”

“If we lose this battle, our thousand-year foundation will be ruined, and we shall have no face before the Buddha.”

“To lose is to die!”

“If we lose, we are sinners of our sect.”

“Expend everything, slay this demon!”

The Abbot leapt ahead.

The others followed.

Stepping up the stairs, passing pavilions and the viewing platform, Jiang Ming was surprised to find no one obstructed him.

At last, he looked ahead to find a vast platform, a large bell to one side, struck by a monk, its sound humming through the air.

At the center, nine great cauldrons were arranged, each filled with thick Buddhist incense, the smoke rising like pillars into the sky.

Surrounding them stood a dense array of monks, all holding steel staffs, glaring at him with murderous intent, longing to tear his flesh and drink his blood.

Directly ahead stood a row of senior monks.

Behind them was a solemn grand hall, where many young novices sat reciting demon-subduing scriptures.

Jiang Ming finally stopped at the front.

He glanced around, his heart shaken.

“Indeed, a thousand-year ancient temple. The foundation of Great Forest Temple is unparalleled. Perhaps no sect in the world can rival it!” Jiang Ming praised.

All the staff monks around him were of the innate realm.

How astonishing.

Besides, there were twelve Masters, and two Grandmasters.

Such was the accumulation of Great Forest Temple.

But Jiang Ming understood—this was a last stand, pouring all their strength into a single battle to destroy him.

He also sensed many strong figures hidden within the hall, their aura distinct from the monks.

The Demon Cult of Sun and Moon? The Northern Barbarians? The Crown Prince’s men? Had they invited other forces?

It mattered not.

“Amitabha, I am Pudu, Abbot of Great Forest Temple. Greetings to you, benefactor!” The Abbot stepped forward, recited a Buddha’s name, and spoke earnestly, “Jiang Ming, all bygones are like mist, blown away by the wind, leaving no trace. Can we let the past remain in the past? Cause and effect, gratitude and resentment, right and wrong, are but dreams and illusions. Name your terms, benefactor!”

“Let the past go? How easily you say it!” Jiang Ming laughed. “I have three conditions. If you agree, perhaps I can let things rest.”

“Please state them!” The Abbot was slightly surprised, but if a fight could be avoided, he truly wished so.

Previously, Jiang Ming’s reputation was mere hearsay, but after witnessing the battle at the foot of the mountain, he saw Jiang Ming’s true terror.

He was simply inhuman.

“I had no enmity with Great Forest Temple. Outside Kaoshan City, your disciple Huijian attacked me. Though he died, that is your cause and effect; also outside Kaoshan City, the Diamond Monk hunted me, this is the second cause; at the foot of the mountain, not only did you not apologize, you openly struck at me, the third cause. My life is precious. You tried to kill me three times, so I demand three conditions to settle the debt.”

Even the Abbot, with his calm nature, could not help but twitch at his words.

Yes, they tried to kill him—but what was the outcome?

All were slain by him.

And now he had stormed the gates; who could he turn to for justice?

He could only suppress his rage.

Jiang Ming raised one finger, his voice carrying far: “The first condition—I want all the scriptures of Great Forest Temple.”

The Abbot’s expression froze.