The miasma shimmered in a kaleidoscope of colors, dazzling yet eerie. Countless voices cried out, “No salvation needed!” and “View Meng Qi as a demon!”
Meng Qi stood atop a mountain peak, his left hand gripping a long saber while his right hand hung naturally by his side. His green robe fluttered in the mist. Unfazed and unprovoked, he calmly replied, “If I were a demon who feigned salvation merely to pursue personal gains without caring for your lives, what difference would your thoughts make to me? Whether or not you need ‘salvation’ is not for you to decide.”
His voice, low and gentle, seemed to split into thousands of echoes, penetrating different scenes and reaching the ears of various tribes at varying distances, vivid and clear.
The tribes that had been shouting loudly immediately fell silent. This feat stunned the hidden Gushen, who was amazed at how Meng Qi could reverse his Wugu arts to transmit words through their connection, splitting his voice into countless directions with pinpoint precision. In his position, he was certain he couldn’t accomplish such a feat—it was like a legendary immortal technique.
“If I truly came here with sincerity to save you, would I not have considered your survival after the destruction of the Blood Robe Sect and Gushen? Would I have made no other arrangements? Attempting to shake my resolve like this is nothing but wishful thinking. As I said, whether or not you need salvation is not for you to decide.” Meng Qi continued, his tone utterly calm. “It is because you are weak, lacking the strength to uphold your own beliefs and realize your choices.”
“And your weakness stems from self-castration. Enduring humiliation and surviving does not equate to insensitivity, nor does it mean placing all your hopes in Gushen and the Blood Robe Sect. In ancient and middle ages, did the southern wilderness have the Blood Robe Sect or Gushen? Your ancestors still survived here, thriving and multiplying. Now, you have had your spines broken, reduced to livestock, having lost the strength to transform shame and sorrow into growth. You have forsaken the spirit of striving through hardships and seeking the blue sky, the spirit that has defined humanity since the days of the Human Emperor. Now you merely survive in disgrace.”
Many tribal members flushed with anger and began shouting curses and accusations.
At this moment, a strange buzzing sound arose: “I show you respect, yet you take advantage. It seems you refuse the cup of courtesy and insist on the cup of punishment!”
With a rumble, Meng Qi’s gaze swept across the trembling earth and shaking mountains. Smoke and mist rose, blotting out the sky and sun, as if the end of the world had arrived.
From behind a distant mountain shrouded in clouds, a gigantic golden insect slowly emerged. Hundreds of zhang in diameter, it radiated brilliant light, rivaling the high sun. This golden insect had eyes and eyebrows, its entire body covered with armor harder than diamond. Behind it stretched six pairs of translucent wings, gently flapping. Dots of colorful wish-force, stained with blood, swirled around it—both sacred and sinister. This was the ancient Gushen of the southern wilderness, the guardian of this land and the Blood Robe Sect!
Gushen had four human-like arms. Two held a dark iron bamboo whip, seemingly extremely heavy, while the other two nimbly formed seals, frantically drawing wish-force from the southern wilderness’s beings. Its aura surged to a level that shook the heavens, as if it could dominate this realm.
Years of accumulation, worship, and transformation had granted it a power surpassing even the Longevity Heaven, reaching the level of an earthly immortal.
Wish-force flowed like water, creating ripples across Gushen’s golden body. With its two sealing hands extended, it proclaimed solemnly, “You have offended the divine. Death is your due!”
The miasma in the sky twisted unnaturally. The combined power of divine decree and Wugu arts could kill silently, with but a single word.
As the voice faded, Gushen saw Meng Qi’s aura grow unfathomably deep. Standing there, he seemed to embody primordial chaos, capable of returning all things to their origin. Otherwise, there was no sign of any divine decree or Wugu arts having been used.
Hmph! Gushen snorted, hands forming a seal. The scenes of various tribes nearly solidified, and from each tribe member flew wish-force dots of red, green, yellow, white, and black, merging into the swirling mass around Gushen—billions upon billions.
These wish-force dots instantly twisted into horrifying insects—some fuzzy, like evil thoughts, others grotesque, like twisted imaginings.
“Endure the wrath of the southern wilderness!”
With a push of Gushen’s hands, swarms of glowing insects flew toward Meng Qi.
This was the manifestation of divine power from its realm—an embodiment of malice, emotions, and imagination, the pinnacle of Gu worms, existing between reality and illusion. They could penetrate nearly any barrier, directly attacking the Dharma Body, nearly impossible to eliminate. As long as the southern wilderness lived, the divine Gu worms would never perish, endlessly reborn!
Buzzing, the divine Gu insects swarmed Meng Qi, leaving no gaps, each insect hideously grotesque and countless in number.
Yet Meng Qi still did not draw his saber. He simply stepped forward, willingly meeting this swarm of revolting insects.
The buzzing sound grew incessant as countless points of light converged. One after another, the venomous insects pierced through and burrowed into Meng Qi’s flesh.
In an instant, the sky cleared as the countless insects vanished.
But the divine Gu insects were like oxen plunging into the sea, vanishing without a trace in those unfathomable depths. Meng Qi remained completely unaffected, as though he had not been attacked by the insects but had instead consumed them.
Seeing Meng Qi’s right hand reach for the saber hilt and meet his gaze, Gushen’s heart sank. Slowly, it lifted its dark iron bamboo whip.
Suddenly, the high-altitude gales seemed to freeze. Countless wish-force dots flew from Gushen’s body, attaching to the void, making it as crystalline as jade, radiating seven colors, transforming the space around Meng Qi into a divine prison from which escape was impossible.
Then, Gushen laboriously swung the dark iron bamboo whip.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion erupted. Far away, the earth violently shook. A majestic mountain thousands of zhang tall rose into the sky, crashing down upon Meng Qi from above!
This was no mere mountain-fist technique conjured from the Wuji land, nor a shattered peak. This was an entire mountain. Measured in jin, its weight likely surpassed billions—a force no Fashen could withstand directly, as it would crush him to pulp. If accelerated, its impact could unleash a cataclysm capable of eradicating most life on earth.
It was a world-destroying blow!
The Whip of Moving Mountains!
Gushen’s golden eyes were cold. Gripping the whip tightly, it waited for the mountain to strike Meng Qi, then return it to its original place, lest it kill all life in the southern wilderness and cut off its own source of wish-force.
Trapped in the wish-force prison, Meng Qi seemed helpless as the mountain loomed, the surrounding void twisting into a spherical compression, bearing an indescribable weight.
Suddenly, his surroundings darkened, filled with an indescribable sensation. He seemed to condense into a single point, yet also unchanged.
Clang!
Meng Qi drew the King-Subduing Saber, lightning crackling around him as he gazed at Gushen solemnly: “What is above? What is below?”
“What is above? What is below?” Gushen was puzzled. At a time like this, he dares ask questions?
Yet at that moment, it witnessed the colossal mountain begin to ascend—not float, but surge upward with increasing speed. In mere moments, it bore dense forests and countless savage beasts beyond the tempest layer, into the infinite starry expanse, before losing momentum and drifting through the frigid cosmos as a peculiar minor planet.
This… Gushen felt as if it were dreaming.
Since when did mountains fall upward instead of down?
Crackling, the wish-force prison was shattered by purple lightning. Meng Qi flashed through the void, closing in on Gushen. Raising the King-Subduing Saber, he calmly struck:
“You received the wish-force of countless beings, attained divinity, yet instead of repaying them, you treated them like livestock. Where is the heavenly punishment?”
As the words faded, Gushen, about to swing the Whip of Moving Mountains, felt countless illusory karmic threads converge into a single massive line, exceeding its limit.
Boom!
Dark clouds gathered in the sky, covering a thousand li, as if the land itself had shrunk.
Boom!
The clouds split, and a chaotic-colored thunderbolt descended. Between creation and destruction, it seemed capable of annihilating a planet, striking directly onto Gushen’s head.
He actually summoned heavenly punishment? Gushen, encountering such an enemy for the first time, frantically flapped its six translucent wings, raising the whip and summoning a mountain to shield itself.
Boom!
The chaotic thunder swallowed the mountain thousands of zhang tall, reducing it to nothingness. The shockwave struck Gushen, which could neither flee nor resist.
When the thunder faded and the clouds dispersed, Gushen lay on a mountain, half its six wings broken, its diamond-hard shell riddled with cracks, its golden body pitifully battered. Its eyes, gazing at Meng Qi, brimmed with terror.
He had actually unleashed an attack at the level of a celestial immortal!
“It’s not that I’m strong, but that your karmic debts have accumulated too much.” Meng Qi, gripping the King-Subduing Saber, slowly approached Gushen. Seeing its terror, he smiled faintly: “Earlier, you claimed the southern wilderness needed your protection. Now, let me show you whether that is true.”
He unsheathed the King-Subduing Saber, his eyes ablaze with the Dao-Illuminating Lingulight, while a spectral river churned around him. With solemn gravity, he declared:
“From this day forth, the mighty Beasts of Desolation shall gather at the heart of the southern wilderness, while human tribes shall dwell scattered along its borders.”
(Note: “荒兽” is translated as “Beasts of Desolation” to convey its mythical and formidable nature, while maintaining the original tone. The structure is adjusted slightly for natural English flow.)
As the words faded, the surrounding tribes saw mountains shifting, the terrain changing.
This…
One by one, the mighty desolate beasts stared in bewilderment as their surroundings transformed, riding atop mountains that surged straight toward the heart of the southern wilderness.
Gushen, about to absorb wish-force to recover, froze in disbelief at the sight.
A single word could shape the law of the world!
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