The Revenge of the Reborn Supreme Sovereign-Chapter 234 - 230: I Can Smell the Magic Artifact! (2)

"Damn it!"

As Qin Fan's massive palm descended, a series of cracking sounds erupted from the bones of the other two Martial Monks. Waves of blood-red ripples spread across their skin as they lunged at Qin Fan, moving much faster than before. Their hands were a blur of fists and claws, constantly shifting through complex hand gestures. By the time they reached Qin Fan, the flurry had resolved into open palms. Streaked with crimson threads, their palms looked horrifyingly sinister in the downpour.

SLAP! SLAP!

Without hesitation, just as Qin Fan's palm was about to crash down, their two palms struck his body. Qin Fan froze for a moment.

However, before the monks could rejoice, a cold, sinister smile spread across Qin Fan's face. A low, mocking command boomed from his throat, "Prison Suppressing Body, Shockwave!" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

A faint orange glow instantly shrouded his body. Seeing this bizarre sight, the hearts of the two monks who had struck Qin Fan pounded violently. They instinctively tried to pull their hands back, but their palms were eerily stuck to his body as if glued in place, impossible to move even a fraction of an inch.

"What is this?! What is this?!" they shouted in reflexive horror.

But their only answer was an increasingly brilliant green light. Three breaths later, at the peak of the emerald brilliance, the sound of cracking, dislocating joints erupted from the two monks' outstretched arms, followed by a series of muffled thuds.

The next moment, the two Martial Monks—their dark skin still glistening with a glossy sheen despite the pouring rain—were simultaneously thrown backward. They landed several meters away, their faces masks of utter disbelief.

Ignoring the two monks sent flying by his Prison Suppressing Body's defensive counter-shock, Qin Fan focused on the one before him, slamming his palm—brimming with True Essence Qi—heavily into his chest.

Bronze Skin Iron Bone? Golden Bell Shield? Those techniques were symbols of might for ordinary Martial Artists; even those in the late Dark Energy stage wouldn't dare underestimate them. But who am I? My Hundred Cracks Divine Miasma, the Third Form of the Earth Evil Arts, was powerful enough to slay a Jiao Dragon. It's more than enough to shatter this pathetic Bronze Skin Iron Bone Golden Bell Shield!

"AHHH!"

The monk, who had almost forgotten the sensation of pain, tried to roll away, but he was a step too slow. The moment the Hundred Cracks Divine Miasma struck him, a pitiful, heart-rending howl tore from his throat.

Beneath his clothes, a searing red handprint was seared onto his flesh, so clear that even the lines of the palm and fingers were visible. Under the power of the Hundred Cracks Divine Miasma, the monk's dark, glistening skin instantly lost its luster, reverting to that of an ordinary man in the blink of an eye.

The Martial Monks of the Thai Vajra Temple forged their path with their bodies, proving their enlightenment through physical prowess. Now, Qin Fan had shattered that very foundation. The so-called Golden Bell Shield was a joke. His body, now no different from an average person's, became the epicenter of the attack's aftershocks. From the point of impact, cracks began to spread, inch by inch, across his skin.

Back on Yanjing Ridge, even a Jiao Dragon with a Third-Rank Crystal Core couldn't withstand this technique when Qin Fan was only in the Qi Refinement Realm. What chance did a mere Martial Monk have against the same technique, now powered by the Foundation Establishment Stage? For his so-called Copper Skin Iron Bone, the only outcome was death.

CRACKLE!

The sound of his skin and flesh tearing grew faster and louder, nearly drowning out his agonized death screams. The entire process took less than ten seconds.

"Explode," Qin Fan said with a smirk.

A deep BOOM erupted from within the Martial Monk's body, like an overinflated balloon bursting. The cracks covering his body burst open, spraying blood everywhere. From the neck down, there wasn't a single intact piece of flesh left. His entire torso was drenched in gore. As his eyes bulged to their absolute limit, his still-intact head drooped to one side. He was completely and utterly dead.

「Inside the villa.」

Li Juncheng witnessed everything on the monitor. His face turned ashen, and cold sweat dripped from his brow. The tablet slipped from his trembling hands, clattering to the floor. "Monster... monster! That thing isn't human!"

After a hoarse, desperate shout, he fumbled with uncontrollably shaking hands, pulled his phone from his pocket, and dialed 999. He had sworn he wouldn't suffer the humiliation of calling the police, but now, he had no other choice. His only hope was that the two remaining Martial Monks could hold out until help arrived.

"Hello? Hello! I'm Li Juncheng! I'm at the Mountain Villa! A monster... a monster broke into my house! Send the police, quickly! Fast! You have to save me! Save me!" he yelled incoherently before tossing the phone aside.

He scrambled over to Yan Long, clutching his arm desperately. "Yan Long, you'll protect me, won't you? You have to protect me! I don't want to die! I can't die, I mustn't die!"

Yan Long's lips remained a tight line for three seconds before he answered, his face devoid of expression, "Mr. Li, if it comes to that, I will die before you do."

「Outside.」

The faces of the two surviving Martial Monks contorted in horror as they witnessed their comrade's gruesome death. The faint trembling in their limbs betrayed their terror.

At first, we thought killing a teenager for thirty billion would be easy money. Now, it seems we were the easy marks. That thirty billion is a death sentence! But whether it is or not, there's no path for retreat. Considering the speed he just showed, escape is impossible. It would only get us killed faster.

With that grim realization, the two monks slammed their palms together and squeezed their eyes shut. They began chanting rapidly in an obscure Thai dialect. As their esoteric murmurs grew faster, a low buzzing sound started to emanate from the trunk of the car parked outside the villa.

"Master Qin, what are they doing?" Lai Zhuge asked, frowning. Having seen Qin Fan slay a Jiao Dragon, he was no longer shocked by the Martial Monk's death, but this new development in the pouring rain was puzzling.

"I smell a Magic Artifact," Qin Fan said with a grin, his gaze drifting toward the source of the sound—the trunk of the car. He had originally planned to end this quickly, but now, his interest was piqued. He decided to give them a chance to live just a little bit longer.

The buzzing grew more intense until, finally, the car's trunk burst open with a bang! Two Zen Sticks, intricately carved with images of the Buddha and wrapped in strange, ancient runes, flew out. Guided by the chanted scripture, they shot through the air toward the two Martial Monks.

In the Martial Arts World, it was no secret that Magic Artifacts could achieve Spirit Communication. What was less known, however, was that bonded Magic Artifacts could be summoned by their master's will alone. And these two Zen Sticks were precisely that kind of bonded Magic Artifact—the very same that could drive the martial practitioners of the world into a frenzy.