Chapter 1589 - 763:

Chapter 1589: Chapter 763:

"Roger, what the hell are you doing? Stop dawdling and take him down!"

The fat man who was exerting all his might to suppress Master Huiming, his forehead full of sweat, couldn’t help but curse when he saw the situation.

Hiding at the back, Zha Xi and Duo Ji finally got a clear look at Fang Cheng’s face.

The two of them opened their mouths in shock, their eyes almost popping out, as if they had seen a ghost.

They clearly recognized the man who had left them emotionally scarred in the antique shop.

Hearing the urging of his companions, Roger’s face turned a shade of purple-red.

To be seized by the wrist in front of everyone and unable to move, like a child being disciplined, was a humiliation that drove him mad.

"Get off me!"

Roger roared in fury, pushing Dragon Elephant Wisdom to its limits.

The black and red monk robe on his upper body was torn to shreds by his bulging muscles, scattering like butterflies.

Just as he was about to desperately retaliate, Fang Cheng casually let go of his hand.

The immense pulling force vanished suddenly.

Roger couldn’t stop himself, stumbling backward five or six steps, nearly falling flat on his backside.

Fang Cheng’s hands hung naturally at his sides, his feet unmoved.

Roger steadied his stance, rubbing his bruised and blackened wrist while staring apprehensively at Fang Cheng.

His mind raced with thoughts.

This guy is definitely a mutant specializing in physical enhancement; considering the strength of his arms, he’s a top contender even in the S-Class, perhaps already touching the threshold of Super S-Class.

If gaining advantage through strength is out of the question, then it’s mana and divine skills to crush him!

Roger took a deep breath, his mind calming slightly.

He was indeed the top-notch genius that appeared once in decades from the Esoteric Buddhism.

Even though the Dharma-raja overshadowed him somewhat in Dragon Elephant Wisdom, in spiritual cultivation he had always been just a tad behind.

He refused to believe that a mutant who flaunted his physical prowess could withstand his trump card in the Spiritual Domain.

Of course, at this moment, he seemed to have completely forgotten how he had just ridiculed Master Huiming for having a "weak body."

Now, with strength contested, he turned once again to the old tactic for victory.

Put nicely, this is called strategic flexibility; put bluntly, it’s pure bullying the weak and fearing the strong.

Roger gritted his teeth, his ten fingers flying, quickly forming a Dharma Seal.

"Om—"

An oppressive and terrifying aura suddenly descended.

The air behind Roger twisted violently, vaguely revealing a three-headed, six-armed Demon God phantom.

The Demon God was clad in heavy armor, its entire being blazing with dark red Vajra Flame, as if stepping out from the Abyss.

One of its hands held a chilling Treasure Sword, another held a Dharma Conch capable of summoning the Demon Army of Hell.

The remaining four arms each held a Vajra Pestle, Skull Bowl, and other magic artifacts, ferociously wielding, murderous aura soaring.

This was a Dharma Aspect exclusive to the upper echelon of Esoteric Buddhism, equivalent to the exclusive Domain of an S-Class mutant.

Fang Cheng felt the scene before his eyes twist.

The tranquil temple courtyard vanished, replaced by a dim red, blood-soaked space.

He stood upon a wasteland paved with countless white bones, the sky raining an unbearable stench of blood.

Facing this hell-like terrifying scene, Fang Cheng’s expression didn’t have a hint of ripple, even his breathing was as calm as usual.

"Pretending!"

Roger, seeing Fang Cheng unmoved, shouted angrily, manipulating the Dharma Aspect behind him to launch an attack.

The Demon God phantom swung its six arms, the dark red Vajra Flame turning into a sea of fire, intertwined with the sharpness of the Treasure Sword and the heavy strikes of the Vajra Pestle, crashing down toward Fang Cheng.

"Boom—"

A deafening explosion echoed in the blood-soaked space, the violent energy shock kicking up swirling dust, completely engulfing Fang Cheng’s position.

Roger panted heavily, staring fixedly ahead.

As the dust slowly dissipated, a slender figure in casual attire emerged.

Fang Cheng was still standing where he was.

He casually brushed off the dust on his clothes, not a single scratch on him.

The terrifying flames and attacks hadn’t even ruffled his hair.

"What... what kind of monster is this?!"

Roger’s eyes widened, a chill he’d never felt before rising in his heart.

And at the moment he was stunned, Fang Cheng moved.

Without any flashy actions, just a simple step.

Fang Cheng’s figure instantly turned into a blurry afterimage, directly advancing to confront Roger.

So fast!

Roger was shocked, instinctively controlling the six arms of his Dharma Aspect, brandishing the Magic Artifacts to smash down at Fang Cheng, attempting to form a web of firepower.

Fang Cheng’s eyes flickered with a hint of flame, his feet unmoving.

He slightly swayed his upper body, swiftly dodging the treasure sword chopping down.

Immediately, he raised his left hand, accurately intercepting the heavy Vajra Pestle sweeping in.

Then his right hand followed with a hand blade, striking the Dharma Conch, deflecting it aside.

This series of close combat movements flowed seamlessly, completely dissolving the seemingly unbeatable attack from the Dharma Aspect.

Watching this, Roger was dumbfounded, unable to believe.

Yet Fang Cheng didn’t give him any chance to react.

A sparkle in his eyes, he instantly spotted a flaw in his opponent’s attack.

"Got you!"

The next moment, his right hand tore open a gap in the dense attack net and clamped onto Roger’s neck.

"Uh—"

Roger’s feet dangled, as Fang Cheng lifted him single-handedly like a duck.

The intense choking feeling made him open his mouth wide, but he couldn’t produce a sound, and finally, a strong sense of panic appeared in his eyes.

Fang Cheng’s gaze was indifferent, and his free left hand suddenly swished out.

Slap!

A clear slap sound echoed.

Roger paused, dumbfounded.

Then, that slapped hand turned into a fist.

Its swinging speed reached the extreme, transforming into countless afterimages, pouring down onto Roger’s abdomen and chest like a wild storm.

"Bang bang bang bang!"

The heavy sounds of punches were as dense as an urgent drumbeat, each punch carrying destructive penetration.

Roger’s protective Dharma Aspect showed cracks after only less than two seconds.

The Demon God shadow behind him flickered violently like a television signal with poor reception.

As Fang Cheng’s final uppercut heavily slammed into Roger’s jaw, the crisp sound of a fracture was heard.

The mighty Dharma Aspect completely collapsed, dispersing into countless light points.

The horrifying bloody purgatory also disintegrated, making the surrounding scenery retreat like a tide instantly.

The peaceful bamboo forest, temple courtyard, and the surrounding people reappeared into view.

The entire scene was silent.

The chubby man wearing a pig’s head mask, Zha Xi, and Duo Ji all stared ahead as if they had seen a ghost.

Outside the courtyard gate, Cheng Jiashu leaned against the bamboo, raising his eyebrow with interest, as if appreciating a spectacular combat scene.

Roger’s battered condition at this moment was mind-numbing.

His face swelled like a yeasted bun, his nose bridge collapsed, and blood continuously dripped from the corner of his mouth.

The entire person hung limply in Fang Cheng’s hand, having lost all ability to resist.

The haughty and supposedly invincible Black Sect Venerable was beaten into a dead dog in a blink.

In the side temple, Master Huiming also stopped chanting scriptures, quietly withdrawing the Buddha Light surrounding him.

He looked at the young man outside the doors who was displaying divine power, lost in thought.

The chubby man glanced at Roger, who was beaten like an actual pig head, feeling a chill rushing from his tailbone straight to his scalp.

The pink silicone mask on his face sticking to the skin felt unbearably comical and itchy now.

Zha Xi and Duo Ji’s legs went weak, nearly collapsing onto the ground.

They knew this man was strong, but never imagined he’d be this strong, hanging the lofty Venerable like a sandbag.

The chubby man swallowed hard, fixating on Fang Cheng’s back intently.

Who exactly is this young man?

Even an Esoteric Buddhism expert like Roger couldn’t withstand him for more than three rounds.

Could he be a prodigy secretly nurtured by a noble family in the East Capital, or perhaps a famous elder from Xia Country now rejuvenated?

Thump.

Fang Cheng released his grip, casually tossing the limp Roger aside.

Then he turned his head, his calm gaze landing on the chubby man wearing the pig head mask.

The chubby man’s heart skipped a beat, his body quivered.

"Brother, calm down, there must be some misunderstanding between us!"