In the martial world, the Two Southern Freaks of Jiangnan—Zhu Feng and Zhou Jie—were notorious for being troublesome and hard to deal with. Now that the two joined forces with Fiend-God Yuan Rong, few believed Roben could withstand their combined assault.
Yet upon hearing the praises of the Patriarch and Law King Aruos, Roben's heart surged with courage. What fear had he now? He strode forward boldly, clasped his hands, and declared:
"Honored seniors, you are willing to test my meager skills today—how could this humble monk refuse?"
Yuan Rong and the Southern Freaks exchanged a glance. In the same instant their figures blurred—Yuan Rong's right palm thrust sideways with a shout:
"Take this!"
A wave of invisible force blasted toward Roben. At the same moment, Zhu Feng and Zhou Jie darted in like twin gusts of wind, their palm-blades sharp as knives.
But Roben had long gathered his strength. His arms swept out like wind; his palms shot forth in diagonal arcs. With one against three, the clash became immediately fierce. Yuan Rong and the Two Freaks coordinated seamlessly, their attacks vicious, relentless, poisonous. Yet Roben—peerless prodigy of the Nestorian Church—met them with whirling palms and thunderous kicks. The fierce winds of their strikes howled through the arena; none could find a single opening.
Surrounding Roben, the three assailants pressed their assault with blinding speed. But the expected advantage never materialized. Instead, Roben fought without restraint, fully unleashing his skill, gradually seizing the initiative.
In a confined space, three attackers could not fully surround him; in truth it became two against one, with the third weaving in and out for opportunistic strikes. Roben's dual palms shot forth like lightning—left one instant, right the next.
Suddenly Roben executed "The Freely Sent Gesture."Yuan Rong staggered back seven or eight steps.
"Zhou Freak! Attack from the left!" Zhu Feng shouted.
Zhou Jie roared, leaping forward, his palms crashing down like a storm.
Roben thought, "These two old monsters truly are troublesome."
Quick-eyed and quicker-handed, he raised his right arm to divert a strike, slid aside, and swept his right wrist toward Zhou Jie. Zhou Jie pressed down with his left palm and struck again; Zhu Feng's palm arrived from the side.
At this perilous moment, Roben kicked off the ground and soared into the air, flipping backward. Landing lightly, he said:
"Your techniques are admirable, seniors. This monk is impressed."
He had barely spoken when Yuan Rong charged in like a maddened bull, unleashing three savage palm strikes. The force was overwhelming. Each time he struck, Roben was pushed back a step.
At the third step, Roben suddenly reached out with his left hand. Yuan Rong's palm descended—Roben twisted his body aside, both hands snapping up like lightning to seize Yuan Rong's right wrist.
Yuan Rong froze in shock and yanked back violently, his left palm lashing toward Roben's chest.
But Roben's right hand lifted to block. With his left hand he twisted Yuan Rong's left wrist sharply.A crisp crack split the air.
Yuan Rong screamed, clutching his broken wrist, agony contorting his face.
"Zhu Freak! Attack from the right!" Zhou Jie cried.
Instantly Zhu Feng rushed in, his palm slicing toward Roben's chest. Roben hooked his left hand to drag the arm aside, then pushed downward with his right—his internal force about to snap another bone.
At the critical moment Zhou Jie lunged from the flank, his right palm chopping toward Roben's chest. Roben had to release his grip to redirect, countering with "Sweeping the Floating Clouds Away."
He surged forward—strike after strike, fierce as a tempest. Though outnumbered two to one, he advanced relentlessly. The Two Freaks scrambled backward, unable to counter.
Roben shouted and unleashed both palms. The two freaks had no space left to retreat. Unable to mount a proper defense, they crossed palms desperately.A resounding boom shook the square.The two staggered back three steps.
Roben recalled the art of war: "When crossing a river, strike at mid-current."He inhaled deeply; true qi surged through his meridians. In a flash he closed the distance—another palm straight toward center.
The Two Freaks, fully aware of the danger, threw out their palms with all remaining strength. But they were already spent.
Their palms clashed—another explosive crack—and the two men flew backward, tumbling to the feet of Law King Shi Ming. After a moment, each spat a mouthful of blood. Their lives were not in danger, but they were incapable of continuing the fight.
Aruos Law King said coldly:
"Our Church hosts today's assembly, yet you intrude uninvited. If our hospitality seems lacking, pray forgive us."
Shi Ming understood the mockery well enough. Yet he had come under orders from Lord Yan—tasked to gather martial champions and intimidate the Nestorian Church into surrender. Who could have expected that the Church, unmoved by threats, would send out a single young monk who proceeded to beat three of their top fighters into the dust?
Only now did Shi Ming truly appreciate how difficult it must have been for the Heilong Sect's Holy Master Murong Gui to serve the Yan court all these years.
But he could not simply lead his men away in defeat. Straightening his voice, he said:
"The grievance between Yan and Tang need not be settled this very hour. But since we have come as guests, and your Church has injured us without provocation—does this not bring shame upon you before all under Heaven?"
Patriarch Luo Ke's expression darkened.
"This is the Nestorian Oath-Rally to Drive Out the Rebels.You came only to disrupt it, to threaten us.Having lost fairly in combat, you now accuse us of discourtesy?What a farce!"
Shi Ming's mind turned rapidly. If he could humiliate the Church's leaders, today would not be a total loss. He said loudly:
"If your Church's hospitality is so lacking, then let us dispense with courtesy as well.If you wish us gone, it is simple:Let the Patriarch of the Nestorian Church show us a little of his skill."
At this, Patriarch Luo Ke felt a twinge of panic. His martial arts were superficial; he had not become Patriarch through force of arms.
Aruos Law King suddenly barked:
"Shi Ming! You grovel as a hunting dog of the Yan court, hindering our sacred assembly. Our Church has shown restraint again and again—do not press us further!"
Shi Ming sneered:
"If the Patriarch considers it beneath his dignity to fight, we will not insist.But we came precisely to witness the famed martial arts of your Church.Let anyone you choose come forth—Let all under Heaven see whether the Nestorian Church truly possesses real skill…or merely an empty reputation."