Chapter 684: Chapter 684
“This is bad!” A chorus of startled cries rose from above.
In just a few breaths, apart from the Four Saints and the two Buddhas, only a handful of gods of exceptional power could still barely remain aloft. All others had fallen, including many of the disciples and followers beside the Saints and Buddhas.
And where had they fallen? Onto the vast mountains, the Mountain God’s domain.
The earth trembled once more. Strata swelled upward, and rocks tumbled and rolled. In the blink of an eye, several stone giants as tall as mountains rose among the peaks, some with trees growing from their bodies. Each step they took made the whole range quake; each punch they threw carried the combined might of hundreds of li of mountains.
The mountain giants trampled the gods’ officers and heavenly generals underfoot like ants, or bent low to hammer them one by one with massive fists.
Caught off guard, the divine officers and generals were thrown into brief disarray, but quickly rallied to mount a defense and counterattack. Some formed battle formations; others forced themselves into the air against some unseen force pressing down on them, striving to avoid the giants’ legs and feet. Blades, swords, and magical treasures struck in unison, erupting across the giants’ bodies like blossoms of steel and light.
In moments, even those colossal figures were covered in wounds.
The trees on their bodies snapped, the wild grasses were flattened, and even the rocky layers that armored them were worn thin.
The number of gods’ officers and generals dwindled steadily.
“I’ll lend you a hand.” The Daoist waved his feather fan once more.
Those few divine officers and generals who had barely managed to lift off earlier now lost all strength to stay aloft, crashing heavily back to the ground.
A giant foot, carrying the weight of a mountain, came stomping down toward them. Those lucky enough to avoid being stepped on barely had time to dodge before another massive shadow swept over them, and with a rushing gale, a mountain giant’s fist came smashing down.
Even divine bodies were pounded into dust.
“Boulder Transformation!” The Daoist casually formed another hand seal.
Bolts of lightning-like radiance shot forth from him, falling upon the mountain giants. Golden ripples spread where they landed, linking together until the entire bodies of the giants gleamed like molten gold.
The spiritual power was laced with the energy of the Jingzhe spiritual energy, making the giants not only harder than gold but also imbuing them with the heavenly punishment of thunder, most lethal to gods and ghosts.
It sounds long in the telling, but it all happened in an instant.
In the heavens, the Four Saints of the Four Directions watched coldly. Seeing so many divine officers and generals fall into the mortal realm and perish beneath the fists and feet of the Mountain God’s giants, their eyes showed little emotion. They merely exchanged a glance, and then the Eastern Sun Saint and Northern Combat Saint descended together, heading straight for the Daoist.
“You seem far too leisurely!”
The Eastern Sun Saint appeared as an elderly man, standing upon a golden cloud, dressed in magnificent robes with long rainbow-like sashes streaming behind him. At a mere lift of his hand, a blazing beam of scorching light shot toward the Daoist on the ground.
The Daoist tapped his staff lightly, sending forth a streak of white light to meet it.
Boom! A ripple spread through the air.
The Northern Combat Saint, also white-haired and bearded, was tall and powerfully built, clad in ancient garments, riding a black ox. In one hand he held a Immortal Slayer Sword, in the other the Divine Strike Whip, and he charged at the Daoist without hesitation.
The golden whip rose high, divine light blazing from it. A blow like that, struck true, would be fatal to anyone.
The Daoist twisted his body with all his speed, narrowly avoiding it.
The Northern Combat Saint and his ox landed heavily. Without even glancing, he swung his Immortal Slayer Sword toward where the Daoist had dodged.
Though there was no visible phenomenon along the sword’s edge, the Daoist felt a mortal danger so intense it seemed his life or death would be decided in a single breath, and there was nowhere to evade.
Swish! The Daoist raised his hand to meet the attack.
Star Shift Art! An unseen force of lethal destruction swept through heaven and earth, yet as it reached the Daoist, it suddenly shifted in an instant, reappearing behind the Eastern Sun Saint.
Both Saints voiced their surprise at the same time.
Unfortunately, this killing force seemed to be under the Northern Combat Saint’s complete control, or perhaps it simply would not strike its own. The Eastern Sun Saint merely furrowed his brow, neither dodging nor defending, and emerged entirely unscathed.
Even so, their puzzlement did not diminish.
That the current owner of Hidden Dragon Temple knew the Star Shift Art was no surprise. But to wield it with such mastery, capable of redirecting even the Northern Combat Saint’s Immortal Slayer Sword, was enough to cause astonishment.
The Northern Combat Saint’s thoughts moved swiftly, and he guessed at the reason. It was said the present owner of Hidden Dragon Temple had once gathered the five elemental spiritual essences of the five directions. Each was a crystallization of the Great Dao and a supreme treasure of heaven and earth, all distinct yet each wondrous in its own way. He had surely gained no small measure of enlightenment from them.
“Some skill, indeed.”
Seated on his black ox, the Northern Combat Saint’s mount stepped upon auspicious clouds without touching the ground, looking every bit the warlike deity from a folk painting.
“Do not trouble yourself aiding me,” the Mountain God’s voice at last rolled slowly forth from all directions, echoing endlessly. “In these mountains, as long as the mountains are unbroken, I am unbroken. As long as the mountains are unharmed, my strength is inexhaustible. Save your spiritual power and focus on dealing with these old fellows.”
The Daoist gave no reply, only fixed his gaze intently upon the two Saints.
The Eastern Sun Saint, however, left him no time to react. Raising a hand, he summoned a blazing sphere of light. It was dazzling and scorching like a miniature sun as he hurled it toward the Daoist.
The little sun flew toward him, neither fast nor slow, yet it carried the inescapable sense of being locked onto its target. No matter where he went, it followed.
At the same time, it radiated an extreme, searing heat and a violent, annihilating spiritual essence, one that even the righteous gods of the Celestial Court would struggle to endure. As it closed in, the intensity became nearly unbearable.
But then the Daoist called out in a single clear voice, “Do not come…”
And with that one line, the blazing sun truly ceased to approach.
The Eastern Sun Saint thrust his hand forward. The little sun moved, but only slightly, and with great slowness.
By then, the Northern Combat Saint had already arrived before the Daoist.
The black ox beneath the Northern Combat Saint was clearly an ancient great demon and immensely powerful. It lowered its head and lunged at the Daoist, while its rider raised the Divine Strike Whip high and lashed out once more, exuding the full bearing of a war god.
But the Daoist extended both hands at once, and he pressed one hand against the black ox’s head.
The other reached to catch the Northern Combat Saint’s whip.
Two voices sounded, each tinged with surprise.
The Eastern Sun Saint made a quick calculation with his fingers, then fixed his gaze on the miniature sun in the air. At last, he understood that it was not that the little sun had been frozen in midair. Rather, the Daoist had used some divine art to stretch the distance between it and himself on the ground. In this way, although it moved toward him at the same speed, it seemed not to move at all; even when it accelerated, its approach was sluggish.
The Northern Combat Saint was likewise astonished.
As the Combat Saint, he was master of combat, and he knew that once his Divine Strike Whip was unleashed, even the other three Saints dared not meet it head-on. His black ox’s charge could shatter mountains, yet now, when both struck, it felt as though all that force had landed on the vast, solid earth itself.
Yes, the earth was dented, damaged, but for something so broad and boundless, it was far from a grievous wound.
“It seems your insights into the Five-Directions Five-Elements Spiritual Resonances run deep. You’ve gained no small fortune from them.”
With that single comment, the Northern Combat Saint again swung his Immortal Slayer Sword.
That sword had struck down many ancient gods, even claimed the lives of Great Beings. Let’s see how you withstand this!
The Immortal Slayer Sword sliced through the Daoist’s body.
A breeze swept past, yet his form was already a mirage. At the same time, many Daoists now stood scattered about the area. Some were real, while some were false. It was impossible to tell apart. This too was a creation born of the water-element spiritual resonance.
The Eastern Sun Saint’s voice was quiet, yet the heavenly radiance blazed brighter. Sunlight pierced the clouds, spilling down upon the earth.
Half the Daoist figures vanished into nothingness.
The other half were preemptively cut down by the Northern Combat Saint’s raised Immortal Slayer Sword, which split into twenty-four beams of sword light. Content orıginally comes from ⓝovelFire.net
In moments, the three combatants were locked in battle once more.
Divine arts and spells shifted in endless variations, countering and breaking one another, each move met with a precise response, showcasing a display of exquisite skill in the way of magical combat.
Almost at the same time, the Western Origin Saint wielded the Heaven and Earth Great Seal, leading her disciples and followers, along with the many divine officers and heavenly generals who had fallen to the ground, into battle against the Pingzhou Mountain God, who now fought with the advantage of home territory.
The Southern Gold Saint, however, remained still for the moment in the heavens.
Watching the battle coldly, the Gold Saint turned his gaze toward two Western Buddhas in the far distance and said in a frosty tone, “Why do the two Western Daoist friends not make a move? Were you not summoned by the Celestial Emperor to suppress this heretical Daoist? Or… is it that the Western Paradise no longer wishes to heed the Celestial Emperor’s summons?”
“Amitābha, nothing of the sort,” one Buddha replied. “It is simply that we are not as skilled in combat as our Eastern Daoist friends, and the people of Pingzhou have no love for Buddhism. This place is far from our believers and temples, and the Pingzhou Mountain God’s suppression upon us is great. Even if we take action, we fear we would be of little help.”
“Amitābha, moreover, the two ancient saints are now locked in a fierce struggle with the current owner of Hidden Dragon Temple, their match evenly balanced. They seem not to need our aid, and should we intrude rashly, we might hinder the two ancient saints in the exercise of their divine powers.”
“Descend at once and lend your aid!”
“Then we shall obey the ancient saint’s command…”
The two Buddhas, knowing the two saints could not overcome the Hidden Dragon Temple master, intoned the Buddha’s name, seated themselves upon their lotus platforms, and flew toward the Daoist’s side.
Below, the three-way battle was indeed fierce. Countless kinds of divine arts and spells unfolded in succession, dazzling even the Buddhas, who for a time could find no moment to intervene.
Not until the Eastern Sun Saint withdrew his scorching sun technique did one of the Buddhas see an opening. Again he chanted the Buddha’s name, “Amitābha… This poor monk has sat in the West for many years, subduing countless demons and ghosts, converting millions of fiends, all of whom I have transformed into yakshas and rakshasas beneath my seat. Today I shall release them all, that they might lend the two ancient saints a hand.”
With that, he produced an incense burner. Opening it, he released a host of evil spirits.
Each evil spirit bore the form of a yaksha or rakshasa[1], ferocious beyond measure, their baleful aura shaking the sky. The moment they emerged, they charged forward with claws bared and teeth gnashing, following the direction the Buddha indicated.
The Southern Gold Saint gave a cold snort at the sight.
Yakshas and rakshasas beneath his seat…? “Subdued” and “surpressed”…?
They were nothing more than slaughtered demon cultivators and ghosts taken into one’s own service, raised into fierce spirits, and prettily named as protectors, yakshas, or rakshasas.
No wonder when the Celestial Emperor issued his summons to the West, the Buddha Lord was unwilling to come, and the other few Buddhas with comparable power also refused, only these two dared to appear. They likely thought that if they didn’t come, then once the Hidden Dragon Temple master emerged victorious, he would seek them out personally.
Scorn aside, the Gold Saint kept his eyes fixed below.
These yakshas and rakshasas had been cultivated under the Buddhas for many years; they were not ordinary creatures. And with their numbers reaching tens of thousands, their surging advance carried an impressive force indeed.
Just then, from the distant horizon, an unseen force swept over. The countless yakshas and rakshasas, who had moments ago been baring their fangs and claws, charging ferociously toward the Daoist locked in combat with the Combat Saint, suddenly froze. Their expressions went vacant, and as if compelled by some irresistible pull, they all turned midair, streaming away in the opposite direction as though drawn in by a tremendous suction.
In just a few breaths, the host of rakshasas and yakshas had vanished completely.
“Hm?” The Southern Gold Saint was startled.
The gaunt Buddha’s face showed even greater surprise.
He fixed his gaze on the distant horizon. There, between heaven and earth, a tiny speck had appeared. It could not be seen clearly, yet it was impossible to ignore. Looking closely, it was a middle-aged man in a splendid black robe, crowned with a ceremonial diadem whose hanging strings swayed gently.
The man, too, held a seal in his hand. On the base of the seal were inscribed eight ancient characters, “Beneath Heaven and Earth, Lord of the nether realm.”
The Buddha’s brow furrowed deeply. His eyes held a wary light as he looked at the man and the seal in his hand. “The nether realm’s Ghost Emperor, Divine Lord Yuewang?”
Since the nether realm and the underworld had taken form, they possessed immense fortune, boundless merit, and great destiny. The Western Paradise had tried to involve itself but failed, managing only to send a single mortal monk into the nether realm. Divine Lord Yuewang had been an ancient deity even before this, and now, having become the newly enthroned ruler of the nether realm, inheriting such vast fortune, merit, and destiny, he was a far more formidable figure than before.
What the Buddha feared most, however, was that very seal.
When the nether realm was first formed, Heaven itself had granted it the authority to collect and govern all wandering souls and ghosts in the world. The seal in the Ghost Emperor’s hand was precisely that, the token of the nether realm’s supreme ruler.
From the moment of its creation, it had been a treasure of Heaven and Earth, innately possessing the power to command every ghost under Heaven.
But he had never expected the Ghost Emperor to appear here.
“Why has the Ghost Emperor suddenly seized away all the protectors beneath this poor monk’s seat? Do you also wish to meddle in this dispute?”
“I saw no Buddhist protectors, only many trapped, wandering souls. It is my duty to collect them, and so I have done.”
“This poor monk has come here at the Celestial Emperor’s summons to suppress lawless men of the mortal world,” the Buddha said solemnly. “Does the nether realm intend to set itself against the Celestial Court?”
“It is only I, not the whole nether realm…”
“I have heard the Ghost Emperor is by nature indolent and carefree, fond of comfort and ease, carrying the bearing of an elegant scholar. Why step into these muddy waters?”
“Precisely to seek the ease in my heart.”
The Buddha glanced at the Southern Gold Saint, who looked as if he were overseeing the battle, then at the distant Daoist locked in combat with the two Saints. He pressed his palms together, lowered his head, closed his eyes, and intoned a Buddha’s name:
“If the present owner of Hidden Dragon Temple is defeated, and the Ghost Emperor also falls in this battle, only then will the nether realm return to its proper order.”
When he finished, he opened his eyes, golden light flaring within them.
Both his hands swept outward.
From beneath the sleeves of his kasaya burst eight golden dragons. Though they looked like golden dragons, they were neither true dragons nor flood-dragons, but a kind of strange serpent, gleaming all over in gold, darting straight for Divine Lord Yuewang.
Divine Lord Yuewang did not flinch, but moved forward to meet them head-on. Countless talismans and magical implements flew from his body, in an instant forming a great array that trapped all eight “golden dragons” within.
The Mountain God of Pingzhou, omnipresent within his domain, saw this and, without hesitation, gathered the power of the land itself into Divine Lord Yuewang’s body, almost as if Heaven and Earth themselves were lending him strength.
“Pure and True Tathāgata[2], lend me your aid!”
The other Buddha, seated cross-legged on his lotus throne[3], suddenly closed his eyes without moving. Behind him, however, golden light blazed forth, and within that light there appeared a dharmic Buddha-form. It was three-headed and six-armed, towering as high as a mountain. Each of its hands held a different sacred implement, and each of its three faces bore a different expression of joy, anger, or calm.