Chapter 400

The giant hammer swept across, howling as it tore through the air.

Tang Luo casually slapped downward, and Yi Yun felt a tremendous force transmitted, making it impossible to grip the hammer handle; the hammer instantly slipped from his hand and fell to the ground, sinking into it.

"The weapon is decent, but your martial arts are too poor," Tang Luo remarked, a white sword flash passing by.

The "brothers" who surged forward behind Yi Yun had their weapons shatter one after another, their bodies flung backward and crashing heavily to the ground, essentially dead.

Lin Qinglong raised his knife again, then brought it down once more.

He dared not act.

"A bunch of wicked obstacles."

Tang Luo casually thrust the Gale-Force Bone Sword into the ground, gazing at Lin Qinglong and Yi Yun as he said, "First, listen to this humble monk finish speaking."

Yi Yun's hands hung at his sides, all ten fingers visibly trembling continuously, already swollen.

The intense pain twisted his face.

Lin Qinglong slightly turned his body: "Are you from the White Feather Sword Manor?"

"White Feather Sword Manor?" Tang Luo said, "Donor, haven't you heard my self-designation?"

Self-designation, what self-designation? Naturally, self-designation as this humble monk.

Yi Yun continued to look ferocious, but Lin Qinglong revealed a strange expression: "You mean, you're a monk?"

"This humble monk's dharma name is Xuanzang," Tang Luo said, raising one hand before his chest, "I have come specially to execute heavenly justice and guide all donors to the Western Pure Land."

Lin Qinglong stared at Tang Luo: "A monk? Are there still monks in the world?"

His tone carried surprise, as if he had heard a tremendous joke.

"Oh, donor, tell this humble monk why there cannot be monks?" Tang Luo said.

"If you speak, will the great master spare us?" Lin Qinglong said.

Earlier, Tang Luo had easily taken down Yi Yun and his brothers, and Lin Qinglong knew this person's martial arts were unfathomably deep, impossible to match by force.

"Watch the donor's performance," Tang Luo said.

"Decades ago, the Hate-Heaven Divine Lord exterminated the entire gate of Tianfo Temple, leaving no chickens or dogs. The entire jianghu, in the end, had only two or three Buddhist temples left, which overnight dispersed their disciples; from then on, there were no more Buddhist monasteries in the world." Lin Qinglong's voice carried malice, "Buddhism is extinct—where would monks come from?"

"Oh," Tang Luo said, "so the jianghu still has such past events."

Lin Qinglong's remaining eyeballs darted about; he should have taken Tang Luo as some "Buddhist remnant" secretly trained disciple.

He probably didn't bother to properly explain common sense to the disciple about to leave the mountain before kicking the bucket.

Such "jianghu young heroes" taught by reclusive masters appear every year, a few each time, most dying miserably.

The reason: on one hand, reclusive masters aren't necessarily truly high-level; if they were truly high, they wouldn't hide from the world.

Such genuine reclusive masters might not produce one even in ten years.

On the other hand, young heroes emerging from mountain gullies have severely lacking jianghu experience, making them easier to handle than those from sects.

Young heroes from sects can be fooled once or twice; those from mountain gullies can be fooled seven or eight times.

But this one before us is somewhat different.

Calling himself a monk, not too familiar with jianghu affairs, yet his strike is ruthless—nothing like a monk, nor does he have the compassion of a jianghu newcomer.

No survivors!

Qingyun Stronghold now has only two leaders left, over thirty people; Lin Qinglong's brothers are all dead.

This person belongs to another category—the kind of scoundrel produced by poor mountains and evil waters.

"Then what?" Tang Luo continued to ask.

"Then..." Lin Qinglong froze for a moment.

Buddhism had already vanished a hundred years ago—what "then" could there be?

"Donor seems quite well-informed; what other evil demons and heretical paths exist in the jianghu? Let's list them one by one for this humble monk," Tang Luo said, wanting this "then."

Speaking of which, he felt a bit disappointed.

Based on his current understanding, the jianghu actually has no various rankings at all! Not jianghu-like in the slightest.

As everyone knows, those who mix in the jianghu value face and reputation above heaven, so all kinds of rankings—Heaven, Earth, and Man lists, Dragon-Tiger list, Beauty list, Wind-and-Cloud list—emerge endlessly.

Human nature is to make rankings and establish order.

Unfortunately, here there is none; at least what Tang Luo and company currently know is only a weapon manual, plus various major powers and strongmen passed down by word of mouth.

How could this do?

Without a "blacklist" formed by evil demons and heretical paths, whom should Tang Luo go to guide and earn merit?

So he can only seek this Qingyun Stronghold leader, this old jianghu hand who understands the situation.

"What evil demons and heretical paths?" Lin Qinglong said, "Whoever is strong is justice; whoever is weak is evil. The victor is justice!"

"This humble monk has no interest in discussing philosophical problems with the donor," Tang Luo said, "This humble monk only wants to know: in the jianghu, how many are like your Qingyun Stronghold, slaughtering villages and destroying strongholds, dragging ordinary villagers to death, hanging corpses and heads in the stronghold and on roads to intimidate others—this kind of wicked person?"

"There are, there are many," Lin Qinglong said.

"Can you write?"

"... Yes."

"If you can write, then write; after you finish, this humble monk will send you on your way," Tang Luo said.

"You cannot kill us! We are the outer organization of the Black Heaven Divine Palace, we are their people!" Yi Yun suddenly shouted loudly, saying they had agreed not to kill!

You bastard, didn't you claim to be a monk?

No wonder these people's weapons are rather fine; originally, there is a major power behind them supporting them.

"Good," Tang Luo laughed, "Write down the information and news of that Black Heaven Divine Palace as well; the more complete, the better, and this humble monk will go together to guide them."

What is called confidence—this is it.

Yi Yun's face instantly fell; just now, when this monk said "good," he still thought there might be a turn of events.

"You won't spare us anyway, you think I'll still provide information for you?" Lin Qinglong gripped his big sword's hand, fingers slightly moving, palm full of sweat.

"I will." Tang Luo said, "Because someone like you, if you can live, you will definitely live; if you can't live, foreseeing the death of your enemies is also a good thing, isn't it?"

Lin Qinglong's face turned grim.

He is indeed a person who must repay every grudge.

"You write, I, the poor monk, will go; there is a certain probability that I will die at the hands of those people."

"If you don't write, then there isn't even a sliver of a chance for revenge left."

"So, will you write, or will you not?"

Yi Yun's eyes widened; he had guessed wrong!

This monk is certainly not some lowly martial artist with shallow experience.

This person is clearly an old monster! A demonic monk!

"Alright, I will write."

Lin Qinglong's chest rose and fell twice, a feral smile appearing on his face, "By then you will come to know what is called hell, and regret your actions today."

Speaking, he let go of the large saber, which fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

This crisp sound masked the noise of Lin Qinglong raising his hand and the faint "click" of the small cylindrical mechanism activating.

Countless fine needles shot out from the mechanism, sweeping toward Tang Luo.

If one's eyesight is exceptionally sharp, one can also see that the needles are of an odd color, obviously poisoned.

Not to mention sealing the throat with blood, even being struck by a few will at least cause poison to flare up, immediately losing combat ability.

Pear Blossom in the Storm!

Many of Lin Qinglong's opponents have fallen beneath this hidden weapon of his.

Who would have thought that a mountain bandit wielding a large saber would also possess such an exquisitely crafted hidden weapon?

Tang Luo hadn't expected it either.

He merely raised his hand; palm shadows appeared before him, fleeting remnants of light, each fine needle lightly flicked by him, changing its flight direction, flying toward Yi Yun opposite.

In the next breath, Yi Yun let out a painful roar, his eyes already pierced blind, and from the countless tiny wounds on his body, black blood continuously flowed out.

His massive body swayed twice, then crashed to the ground with a boom, still twitching slightly.

The exposed skin rapidly turned black, and within a few seconds became a stiff corpse.

"Write properly." Tang Luo said to Lin Qinglong, who maintained the posture of launching the hidden weapon, not bothering with him as he walked toward the interior of the stronghold.

No matter how you say it, we need that bit of loot, and there might also be prisoners inside.

Nai Taisheng and Tang Yuhan then stared at Lin Qinglong, daring not to relax in the slightest.

Master Xuanzang, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, directly throwing the people down, not caring at all, they were a bit panicked in their hearts.

What if Lin Qinglong, cornered, jumps over the wall—what then?

Fortunately, Lin Qinglong ultimately did not jump the wall in desperation; he stared fixedly at Tang Luo's Drilling Wind Bone Sword embedded in the ground, his hand slowly lowering, daring not to move, daring not to act rashly.

The buildings of Qingyun Stronghold were actually quite well constructed.

Tang Luo searched around and quickly found the "treasury," which contained not only much wealth but also weapons.

This means that in the journey ahead, Tang Luo can eat well, drink well, spend money freely, as long as he doesn't squander it like dirt, he can certainly last three months.

As for weapons, naturally there was none that caught his eye; he tried them all one by one.

There was also no equipment, or perhaps on that weapon registry, equipment might exist.

Besides the treasury, the stronghold also had a prison, containing not a few corpses and three prisoners.

Two men and one woman, all very young, standard jianghu youthful heroes.

Their clothes were tattered, their expressions wooden, obviously having suffered indescribable treatment.

Tang Luo reached out, crushed the chains, opened the prison door, and asked: "Are you three from the White Feather Sword Manor?"

Earlier, Yi Yun had acted rashly, obviously taking Tang Luo for someone from the White Feather Sword Manor, feeling this matter could not be left unresolved, so he went all in.

As for these three, needless to say, they were the young heroes who had gone to Black Wind Stronghold to farm reputation, only to fail in the end.

Basically, there was no chance of "winning or losing is common in military affairs; please try again."

Upon hearing Tang Luo's words, the three failed youths finally had some reaction.

Two of them merely looked toward Tang Luo.

As for the one man, his wooden expression gradually faded: "You... who are you?"

"My Buddhist name is Xuanzang, I come from Ling Mountain's Thunder Sound Temple." Tang Luo said, "Passing through this place, hearing that Qingyun Stronghold has been causing trouble everywhere, I substituted for Heaven's will, and converted those people. You three are now also free."

The three were simultaneously stunned.

Thunder Sound Temple, a monk? And he even destroyed Qingyun Stronghold? Really or fake?

There has been no Buddha in the world for decades already.

"I, the poor monk Tang Xuanzang, do good deeds without leaving a name, skilled in converting all kinds of heretics and demons." Tang Luo said, "You three can help the poor monk spread the word a bit."

With a faint smile, though in the eyes of the three, this smile carried a hint of strangeness.

Whether it's the identity they claim, or this kind of leisurely appearance, it's all too strange.

No matter how you look at it, it doesn't seem like they've endured a fierce battle, destroyed Qingyun Stronghold, and are righteous heroes.

Saying they do good deeds without leaving a name, yet they've already announced their name, oh, their Buddhist name, and still hope for more promotion?

Could it be that the Buddhist sect, long extinct, is about to rise again?

Regardless of what these three, whose bodies and minds have suffered great harm and have not yet recovered, are thinking, Tang Luo turned and walked out of the prison.

Returning outside, Lin Qinglong had already finished writing down much of what he knew.

The characters were written crookedly, extremely ugly.

But they could still be barely distinguished.

"I'll wait for you below." Lin Qinglong said to Tang Luo, then simply used his own large saber to slit his throat.

It wasn't that he was man enough to put life and death out of mind.

Rather, he feared the white-haired demon monk's torture, which would leave him unable to live yet unable to die.