The east was ablaze with crimson clouds brighter than fire, and beneath the majestic mountains and rivers, Master Lu and Daoist Chonghe took positions at strategic points, locking their qi with the distant surging force. Each had already adjusted to their optimal condition and state.
Suddenly, Daoist Chonghe spoke, “Though the Jiangdong Wang Clan has chosen to remain neutral again, they sent a silk pouch with eight characters: ‘Minor flaws exist, but the grand situation remains intact.'”
“As long as the grand situation remains intact,” Master Lu murmured, his right hand gently stroking the hilt of his sword, as if reminiscing about his beloved. His tone was calm. “However, the future is unpredictable and ever-changing; divination can only indicate high probability.”
He did not mention the minor flaws—not out of self-deception—but because he had already prepared for the possibility of a Dharma Body falling in this battle, including himself.
Daoist Chonghe smiled kindly, “This old Daoist had a small thought: I left my ancestral ‘Three Swords’ at the sect, bringing only my personal divine weapon.”
The Pure Yang Sect’s treasured divine weapon was the “Upper Cave Sword,” which was usually divided into three parts: severing greed and anger, severing love and desire, and severing troubles. Hence, it was also known as the “Three Swords.”
“It’s not quite secure without a divine weapon to suppress, relying only on the relics of predecessors. Only by having no worries behind can one fully display one’s abilities,” Master Lu was not bothered. In his view, it was far more important whether the sect would be attacked and destroyed than the loss of a divine weapon. Devotion and sincerity were the path to victory.
“This old Daoist agrees wholeheartedly,” Daoist Chonghe smiled, exuding a relaxed and carefree demeanor of a true Daoist.
Suddenly, Master Lu’s right hand gripped the hilt of his sword, calmly stating, “They’re here.”
In the distance, purple lightning and azure thunder transformed into dragons and serpents, baring fangs and claws, piercing through the sky.
With a metallic ring, the “Single-Minded Sword,” once obscure but now renowned across the heavens, leapt from its sheath, its brilliance illuminating the region.
…
Within Changle City, many sects and families that had received warnings sought refuge in this fortified stronghold to avoid being completely overrun by the grasslands and malevolent forces in a single devastating strike.
Within a short time, Changle City had become overcrowded, with people in panic, frequent conflicts, and even signs of food shortages.
In a certain alley, many martial artists, long harboring grievances and recent enmities, erupted into battle, crashing into others’ walls and affecting passersby. As long as the chaos did not exceed a certain limit, the already overwhelmed Bei Zhou court and the Changle families had no time or resources to manage the situation.
A passerby fell and injured his arm, glared angrily at them, then took a detour into an ordinary courtyard.
After passing through several gates, he confidently entered a large hall, bustling with kneeling men and women. Their attire indicated they were not commoners but martial artists from the lower echelons. At the front stood an altar, upon which sat a divine statue atop a white lotus platform, youthful and beautiful, filled with compassion.
The officiant led the chanting of scriptures:
“Red dust is like a prison, all beings suffer, samsara never ceases, worries and troubles never end. Pity for us mortals, a god descends from heaven, the Eternal Mother, the Pure Land of Emptiness!”
The scripture’s ethereal voice resonated deeply, and the passerby’s face immediately showed reverence, secretly delighted at the rapid increase in brothers and sisters in recent days.
He prostrated himself, chanting devoutly: “…Eternal Mother, Pure Land of Emptiness.”
In Changle, the secondary capital, Lulong, and Juyuan, similar scenes unfolded, though some whispered “Eternal Mother,” while others fervently chanted “Self-Strengthening Without Ceasing.”
…
As Meng Qi flew over the fortified city, he observed the slightly chaotic situation, his heart involuntarily heavy. With the outbreak of war, countless martial artists would perish, and countless ordinary people would be displaced.
Although the Moon Mani King Bodhisattva would prevent excessive atrocities, many tragedies were inevitable.
The sooner the war ended, the better!
A streak of cloud-like light soared over the city, heading straight for the Sword-Hiding Pavilion’s sect headquarters. Even at Meng Qi’s current speed, it took nearly a day and night to arrive.
The terrain here was high and steep, distinct from other places. From the waist of the highest peak upward, there were no trees or loose stones—only countless swords standing upright like a sword graveyard. Every disciple of the Sword-Hiding Pavilion who had opened their acupoints and passed away could bury their life-linked sword here.
As Meng Qi soared over the mountain peak, sword energy howled like a tempest, weaving an impenetrable barrier that barred all outsiders from entry or prying eyes—the grassland forces were marching southward, and the Sword-Hiding Pavilion dared not slacken its vigilance, having already activated the mountain-protecting formation: the Heaven-Severed, Earth-Deficient Sword Malevolence Descending Life Formation.
“Junior Su Meng respectfully seeks an audience with Director Qiu,” Meng Qi exhaled, his voice like thunder, transmitting his message into the forbidden area.
Qiu Wansheng, the director of the Sword-Hiding Pavilion, was a renowned figure in the martial world, of the same generation as the venerable patriarch of the Langya Ruan Clan. With a fiery temper and ruthless swordplay, he fiercely protected his own, never changing with age. Thus, his battle record remained unbroken, and he still firmly held the sixth position on the Earth List, earning the title “Thunderbolt Flame.”
Soon, the white sword qi swirled and condensed from a central point, forming a mirror that revealed the scene inside the Sword-Hiding Pavilion’s Ten Thousand Sword Hall: Qiu Wansheng, dressed in a black martial outfit with snow-white hair, held a narrow longsword in his right hand. Its sword intent was restrained, without shimmering light or vitality—it was the Sword-Hiding Pavilion’s treasured divine weapon, the “Lifeless Sword,” which meant no life under the sword, differing from the “Eternal Mother” of the Eternal Mother Sect.
Qiu Wansheng’s features were sharp, his jaw protruding, his face ruddy, clearly revealing his character. Behind him stood four Grandmasters: “Thunderous Ten Thousand Weights” Ma You, “Heaven Maimed Sword” Nan Gong Hen, “Unseen Peach Blossom” Li Sinong, and “Fleeting Glimpse” Yu Wujiu.
Among them, “Fleeting Glimpse” Yu Wujiu and “Unseen Peach Blossom” Li Sinong, though junior in seniority, were renowned figures on the Earth List, surpassing their elders. Li Sinong ranked 90th at the eighth heavenly layer, sharing fame with Miaoyue Nunnery’s “Thousand-Handed Bodhisattva” Ming Fa. Yu Wujiu was reckless in combat, pursuing extremes, at the seventh heavenly layer, ranked 139th on the Earth List. With the demise of the Crying Elder and the Six Desires True Buddha, their rankings would rise.
At this dangerous moment, the Sword-Hiding Pavilion had recalled all its Grandmasters.
“Young Hero Su, what important matter brings you here?” The Sword-Hiding Pavilion was not familiar with Meng Qi, but they knew he was a close friend of Daoist Chonghe across generations, so Qiu Wansheng remained relatively polite.
Meng Qi clasped his hands and said, “Director Qiu, I infiltrated the grasslands and obtained crucial intelligence regarding the Sword-Hiding Pavilion.”
Qiu Wansheng had a fiery temper and was relatively straightforward, “Young Hero Su, speak plainly. The Heaven-Scorching Gate has secret transformation techniques, and the Demon Sage excels in disguise. At a time like this, I dare not open the sword formation to let you in.”
Impatient and fiery as he was, Qiu Wansheng was cautious enough to survive this long and maintain his position as director.
Meng Qi understood Qiu Wansheng’s caution and spoke loudly, “The Heaven-Scorching Gate has lured and corrupted a powerful figure from the Sword-Hiding Pavilion, turning him into the ‘Faceless Demon King.’ Twenty-three years ago, the massacre of the Yang Clan in Juyuan Prefecture was his doing. The subsequent deeds of the ‘Faceless Demon King’ were all impersonated by the Demon Sage and other Demon Kings taking turns.”
He spoke decisively, as if the “Faceless Demon King” was undoubtedly a Sword-Hiding Pavilion expert, rather than a mere suspicion like Gu Xiaosang’s. After all, it was better to believe such things might exist than to ignore them, better to raise the Sword-Hiding Pavilion’s vigilance!
“Nonsense!” “Thunderous Ten Thousand Weights” Ma You shouted angrily. He and Qiu Wansheng were senior disciples, equally hot-tempered and stubborn. Upon hearing this, he refused to believe it.
The “Faceless Demon King,” valued by the Heaven-Scorching Gate, should at least be a Grandmaster. Within the sect, who among the Grandmasters was not loyal to the sect? Nan Gong, an elder of the sect, though reclusive, had always been fair and never interfered in sect affairs. How could he be the Faceless Demon King? As for Junior Disciples Li and Yu, he had watched them grow up; they were upright and proper, how could they possibly fall and side with demons?
Nan Gong Hen also doubted, “Could it be that you are actually an impostor from the Heaven-Scorching Gate, deliberately sowing discord to make us suspicious of each other, weakening our combat effectiveness, and creating vulnerabilities in the formation?”
Without unity of mind, success is impossible, and the Lifeless Sword was not an unparalleled divine weapon.
Nan Gong Hen was not originally named “Hen.” In his youth, he had a grievance that could not be resolved, a lifelong regret, hence he changed his name to “Hen,” bearing this heart demon. After becoming a Grandmaster, he made no progress and became reclusive in character.
“Unseen Peach Blossom” Li Sinong pursed her lips and transmitted her voice in secret, “Though backed by Elder Chonghe, the story of the Mad Blade Su Meng being deeply involved with the demoness of the Luo Sect is widely circulated among the Left Path, with detailed and vivid accounts. There’s no smoke without fire. It’s better to be cautious about his words.”
This implied suspicion that Meng Qi had switched sides to join the evil sects.
Li Sinong’s sword techniques were extremely refined and exquisite. Those who died by her sword often saw only a flower of blood, hence her nickname “Unseen Peach Blossom”—like an immortal, yet a glimpse of her was like seeing a demon.
Yu Wujiu nodded slightly without speaking, obviously agreeing with the previous opinions of his fellow disciples.
They were far more familiar with each other than with Meng Qi, naturally trusting their acquaintances more than a sudden warning from an outsider.
Qiu Wansheng’s eyebrows twitched, his voice deep, “Young Hero Su, thank you for your kind warning, but our Sword-Hiding Pavilion is harmonious, our seniors are virtuous, and our peers are loving. There will absolutely be no traitors who betray their ancestors and masters!”
If not for Su Meng’s backing by Chonghe, he would have accused him of having ulterior motives, sowing discord, and tarnishing the Sword-Hiding Pavilion’s image.
Meng Qi felt a surge of anger at having his good intentions misunderstood, but he quickly suppressed it, reminding again, “Director Qiu, it’s better to believe it might exist than to ignore it. It’s good to be more vigilant!”
“Enough said!” Qiu Wansheng was quite protective of his own, stubbornly responding.
Meng Qi couldn’t help but feel his temple throb—would it kill them to be more cautious?
…
“Red dust is like a prison, all beings suffer, samsara never ceases, worries and troubles never end. Pity for us mortals, a god descends from heaven, the Eternal Mother, the Pure Land of Emptiness!”
On the vast grassland, the chanting of scriptures drifted mysteriously from an unknown source, ethereal and distant. White lotus-like wisps of wish-light gathered gradually. Gu Xiaosang sat cross-legged upon a white lotus platform, her hands forming a sacred mudra, her countenance solemn and majestic.
In her hands appeared a round, smooth glass bead, into which the light of wishes gradually gathered, slowly forming a divine statue—identical to Gu Xiaosang’s exquisite beauty, yet even more sacred and ethereal.
The divine statue solidified, growing larger and larger, completely enveloping Gu Xiaosang, transforming into a two-zhang-tall female deity.
Her presence was vast, merging with the void, the surroundings becoming chaotic and indistinct, losing all sense of up and down, left and right.
Suddenly, the deity stood, the white lotus platform flying into her forehead, making her truly solid, and Gu Xiaosang’s aura slightly revealed.
The deity took a single step southward, accompanied by the “Six Annihilation Yama Statue” crafted by the Heaven-Scorching Gate—eight zhang tall, clad in black armor, with six arms, exuding a majestic and lofty presence, each possessing a Dharma Body-like sensation.
The “Eternal Mother Statue” and the “Six Annihilation Yama Statue,” possessing quasi-Dharma Body strength, split southward to harass various sects, drawing attention to prevent anyone from rushing to reinforce the main offensive direction.
On the main offensive route, the leader of the “Golden Tent Warriors,” Hasuwula, waved his hand:
“We head for the secondary capital, guided by the Cao family, and launch a swift attack on the Sword-Hiding Pavilion!”
This path encompassed the majority of the Golden Tent Warriors, the shamans of the Shengsheng Sect, the Temple of Joy, the Blissful Sect of the Su Nu Sect, the renegade Left Path heretical cults, and the Shengsi Wuchang Sect, which had just activated the Yin-Yang Evil God Formation!
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