Chapter 15: 8 Murders

"Amitabha!"

A Buddha's chant came out from the smoke. The skinny old monk stepped on the ruins, clasped his hands together, two dragon horns grew on his forehead, and his exposed skin was covered with golden scales.

"Not bad, not bad, I can take a blow from a poor monk!"

"The dignified Zen Master Tianlong unexpectedly attacked me, a junior."

Sikong Zhan's palms sparkled with aura, and he pressed them on the ground. The wounds on his chest healed quickly, and the originally flat land was cracked with holes.

Zen Master Tianlong

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