Max-Level Comprehension: There Are Too Many Supreme Arts to Master!

Eight hundred years into the Great Qian Dynasty, demons devour the moon, and martial arts reach the divine.

When flowing-cloud iron sleeves whip up storms a hundred feet high, when Dragon-Subduing Palms shatter cloud platforms across three thousand miles, when the Nine-Word Mantra suppresses a ten-thousand-year-old Corpse King, and when Taiji's yin and yang twist the dragon energy in the earth's veins, people of the martial world always say there's a figure in green behind these legends.

He once spent seven days studying Buddhist sutras in the Sutra Repository of the Great Zen Temple, deduced the Taiji diagram at the Nine Chambers of Zhenwu Rock, and drank three hundred jars with the Beggars' Sect leader in exchange for the essence of the Dog-Beating Formation. The Martial World's All-Knowing Scholar ranked him second on the Prodigy List, third on the Ten Great Cursed Weapons List, and fourth on the Righteous Path's Dragons and Tigers List.

“Though I have learned three thousand six hundred martial arts in my life, I haven't mastered even ten of them.”

The man in green stroked the tassel of the sword at his waist and sighed, paying no heed to the famous martial arts masters kneeling behind him.

Until the night of the full moon, when a dragon's roar shook the depths of the Hundred Thousand Mountains.

Everyone saw the line of small text carved into a cliff behind a mountain.

“With maxed-out comprehension, supreme arts arise on their own. At the end of the martial path, who stands first?”