Seeing Xue Cuo heading back towards Qianyun City, Xuan Zhao hastily cried out, “Xue Cuo! Don’t you dare do anything foolish.”
Xue Cuo gazed at the city. “I want to give it a try.”
“Try?” Xuan Zhao barked. “How? I may have been dead seven thousand years, but I’m no fool. Above your head are immortal-sect disciples, orthodox temple gods, and four half-step deities walking the earth. With your measly Spirit Void cultivation, going in there is nothing short of suicide!”
Xue Cuo folded his arms. “Who said it has to be a one-on-one fight? Magic combat isn’t just a matter of fists. There’s strategy, too. You’ve not yet seen what I can do, Master Xuan.”
Xuan Zhao snorted. “What other tricks could you possibly have?”
Xue Cuo didn’t reply. Instead, he set a small incense burner down on the ground. It was a dainty thing filled with swirling golden sand. The moment it appeared, Xuan Zhao stiffened. It was a treasure. And its aura… far too familiar.
Suspicion dawned. “That incense burner… where did you get it?”
Lighting four sticks of incense, Xue Cuo tapped off the ash and watched the smoke rise in a perfectly straight line. “Her Ladyship gave it to me. I think it’s called the Qiankun Merit Furnace.”
Xuan Zhao sucked in a sharp breath. He remembered now. It was the very first incense burner of the Goddess of the Great Loch’s first consecrated temple, the deity’s most favoured artefact. And Her Ladyship had simply handed it out.
He had personally seen Xue Cuo use it to crack walnuts when he couldn’t find anything handy, and once even to smash the clay from a mould stuck to Xuan Zhao’s own leg.
“Xue Cuo… your luck is absurd.”
Xue Cuo drew a sparrow feather from his waist. Holding his breath, he concentrated and began painting a scarlet talisman. It was far more taxing than the green ones.
It was a Peace Talisman, a charm for good fortune. Ordinary cultivators scoffed at such low-level symbols; at most, they brought trifling luck, like stumbling upon stray spirit stones or a pheasant that had run into a tree.
But Xue Cuo’s was an improved version.
Though Xuan Zhao had lived long, he couldn’t decipher it. He could only faintly glimpse several god-names, each wreathed in strange, shadowed qi.
The more he looked, the more violently the corner of his mouth twitched. The veins on his forehead throbbed. Instinctively he lifted his tortoiseshell, prepared to run for his life.
Reckless! Utterly reckless!
Xue Cuo had lost his mind.
…
At the same time—
In the great eastern marshes, in the black-skied, white-earthed nation of the gods, beneath layer after layer of unshakeable Dao chains, the Goddess of the Great Loch stirred. Her closed eyes fluttered ever so slightly as she sent forth a thread of divine thought, which blossomed into a golden lotus and drifted away.
Her disciple’s recent accomplishments had revived the Avici Hell within her divine domain, granting her greater strength to strain against the chains… and to respond more swiftly to her disciple. Before descending to the mortal realm, divine thought pierced through the void so as not to be noticed by the orthodox gods.
There, the golden lotus met a blazing flame shaped like a three-legged Golden Crow… a remnant will of a once-mighty deity.
The lotus yielded, and a faint woman’s voice drifted out. “Eastern God, are you off to slay demons?”
Compared to the rest of them, the Golden Crow still had believers in the mortal world.
But monitored by the New Heavenly God, half his body fused with an artefact, he no longer possessed freedom. It was only a fragment of will.
A deep rumble issued from the flames, like the ancient bell that tolls the birth and death of heaven and earth. “A blessing.”
The lotus was silent. For some reason, she sensed a subtle resonance.
As they travelled, they encountered a radiant sparrow feather.
The Golden Crow’s flames roared upward. The feather flared in surprise. The lotus unfurled its petals, preparing to intervene… when suddenly a droplet of yellow river water appeared.
“Oho? Isn’t that the Golden Crow and the big bird?” chirped a bright, mischievous voice.
All three Dao manifestations faltered.
The water droplet spun around them, delighted. “Dead for eight or nine thousand years, and yet this scene feels the same as ever.”
The flames surged dangerously. The water droplet, utterly fearless, surged forward. “What’s this? Can’t beat the new gods, so you’re taking it out on me?”
A cold, ethereal voice emanated from the golden lotus. “Nine-Curved Goddess.”
The droplet froze, trembling, its divine radiance retracting as it stammered, “Ah. Great Loch… you’re here as well.”
The lotus did not respond.
The droplet sidled up to the flames and mocked, “Oh dear, oh dear. Fine, I’ll let it go this time. Mortals everywhere worship me these days. I’m terribly busy. Goodbye.”
The Golden Crow let out a sharp cry, as if chastising her. The sparrow feather remained silent, but its brilliant glow betrayed no calm.
The four Dao manifestations descended at once, converging on a single point.
The Goddess of the Great Loch’s thoughts flickered. She suspected that in this entire world, only one disciple of hers would dare go to such outrageous extremes.
The water droplet tried to dissuade them. “Golden Crow, you’re all harsh temper and fiery virtues. Blessing someone? Nonsense. Leave it to me and go home.”
The Golden Crow ignored her. So she turned to the sparrow feather. “Since ancient times, humans and demons have never co-existed. Big Bird, your Dao heart is iron. And now you’re making exceptions?”
A cold, crystalline snort answered her. It was proud, splendid, unmistakably so. The feather accelerated, trying to outpace the others.
All this transpired in the space of a heartbeat.
Xue Cuo drew the final stroke.
The vermilion talisman exploded with five-coloured radiance, with divine powers flooding into it from every side.
The enormous force blasted Xue Cuo a kilometre or two away.
Golden light. Sacred fire. A river of time. Jade-bright feathers.
The four Dao manifestations fought over the talisman, tearing it apart. The first to retreat was the Goddess of the Great Loch, who cared only for her disciple.
“The Great Loch is magnanimous beyond compare. I cannot rival her,” declared the Golden Crow as he withdrew.
The water droplet and the sparrow feather refused to concede generosity.
“Am I a petty deity? Don’t drag me. I’m stepping back.”
“Hmph.”
The four powers parted, then slowly merged again, threading along the lines of the talisman to form an exceedingly strange, yet immensely potent, talisman core.
Just as the final stroke was about to form—
A long, pale hand reached out, seized the talisman, and sliced through the air with two fingers.
“By command.”
Xue Cuo soared back using the Supreme Freedom Technique. Xuan Zhao shook from shell to tail, utterly bewildered.
Four gods. Praying simultaneously.
Two of them blood enemies. And Xue Cuo had invited all four… and lived.
Who on earth was this boy? Some great benefactor reincarnated?
Xue Cuo only felt an uncanny certainty. Fortune would now follow him like a tailwind.
He looked at Qianyun City and scattered a handful of talismans. “Go.”
The talismans became a dozen talisman-dragons, plunging into the floodwaters. Xue Cuo lit another stick of incense, murmured the sacred name thrice, and the heavens answered with a dragon’s cry.
A small golden dragon burst forth, diving into the water and raising a colossal wave. It poked its head out, tail thrashing in excitement.
“Shixiong!”
Xue Cuo leapt onto its head and pointed at Qianyun City. “Xiao Mu. There!”
The azure talisman-dragons shot through the torrents, entering Qianyun City. They swallowed the townsfolk whole, only to spit them safely onto dry land. Xue Cuo, riding the little golden dragon, unfurled the Golden Lotus Dao image as he travelled through the depths, ferrying the souls of the dead.
A thunderous roar shook the heavens. “Wretched boy! Having fled, why return!”
Xue Cuo lit another talisman. “To kill you? Why would I need a reason?”
“Such arrogance!”
Thunder rumbled. A towering Xianghuo Divine Dao god rose from the clouds, its body like a mountain. It was human-shaped, fish-headed, ferocious beyond words.
A fox-faced god, head draped in crimson cloth, crooked its finger and grinned wickedly.
A jade-pale goddess frowned, pinched her fingers, and peered down.
Black crows circled overhead, their blood-red eyes fixed on the youth who had walked straight into their jaws.
These gods stood tall as mountains, vast as seas; within this soon-to-be divine domain, they possessed unfettered might.
And yet, Chongming could not calculate Xue Cuo’s karma. Which meant the power shielding him far exceeded their own.
Reluctant to strike, Chongming considered briefly, then released a wisp of reincarnation fire.
“The old heavens are long broken. Even if all four goddesses descended together, I would not fear them… let alone a brat like you.”
His divine fire swept out in a sea of flames… when he suddenly sneezed.
The fire veered sideways.
And set his own temple ablaze.
Shiliu’s eyes bulged. “Chongming, have you eaten one brain too many? How can you not recognise your own temple!”
He raised a hand and brought it down in a vicious slap. Yet, inexplicably, the blow veered off-course. He could have flattened Xue Cuo then and there, but instead let him slip away.
“This brat is truly bizarre!”
The four gods struck at once. Xue Cuo, riding the little golden dragon, flickered in and out of sight amidst the surging floodwaters. No matter how the gods attacked, not one of them managed to land a killing blow. Each strike missed by a hair’s breadth, a fraction of a moment. Always just enough for him to vanish like oil on water.
Though Xue Cuo tried again and again to escape, he could not withstand the relentless pursuit of four Half-Step Gods. Shiliu’s palm slammed into his chest; flesh tore open, blood blossoming.
Xue Cuo gave a muffled groan, but continued steering the cyan talisman-dragon, refusing to abandon the people, circling back to pull survivors from the rising waters.
Suddenly, Xuan Zhao burst out from beneath the flood. “Are you trying to die?!”
“Go!”
“If you don’t leave now, they’ll kill you!”
The little golden dragon sensed the danger as well. For him, death merely meant returning to the Golden Pool. But his Eldest shixiong was still mortal. The Golden Pool would not protect Xue Cuo.
Xue Cuo hunched against the torrential rain. “No… something’s wrong.”
Xuan Zhao spluttered, “Wrong my arse! What could possibly be wrong now, you damned little rabbit!”
Wiping water from his face, Xue Cuo’s expression turned cold and deathly pale. “Did I… guess wrong?”
At that moment, every crow in the city erupted into flight, wings beating frantically as they surged towards Ren Temple. At the same time, a sword burst forth from behind Shiliu and sheared off half his fish-like head.
Shiliu let out a shrill scream. “Crows! You—!”
The crows swirled together, coalescing into a towering deity in black robes. He offered no explanation, merely lifted his blade and struck again with earth-shaking force.
Shiliu, unable to dodge, caught the sword in his bare hands. “That move… I know it! No… Ren Family Sword… you’re from Ren Temple!”
A wild gust sent the deity’s cloak billowing. He reached up, flicked it aside, and revealed a face like carved wood. It was half crow, half the delicate features of a clay figure. He gave a cold, thunderous laugh.
“Ren Temple. Ren Shu. Come to take your life.”
Shiliu stared, aghast. “You possessed the crow?!”
The deity, Ren Shu, did not answer. He raised his sword, swinging it down with brutal force. The other three gods were struck twice before they fully grasped what was happening, and then rushed him, attacking from all sides.
And then, a voice echoed in Xue Cuo’s mind:
“The people of Qianyun have suffered endlessly. It is my failure. How bitter.”
“To meet an old friend, yet be unable to see him. How bitter.”
“Xue Cuo, I share with them a blood-deep feud. A slaughtered clan, a butchered lineage. The moment has come. If I perish together with these evil spirits, only then shall I be worthy of the three hundred years of incense the Ren family has received from Qianyun City.”
“This body is already dead.”
“Living souls, leave the city at once.”
Xue Cuo planted a foot on the little golden dragon’s head and shouted towards the heavens, “Ren Shu-gege, I’m here to help you!”
He leapt off the dragon. Naturally, neither the little golden dragon nor Xuan Zhao would allow it; the dragon paddled frantically after him, tail thrashing.
“Eldest shixiong!”
“Xue Cuo!”
Xue Cuo stood atop a tree barely visible above the flood. Rain lashed across his wild expression. “Master Xuan, I can’t leave. Why must only good people throw their lives away in this world? I-I want to save them!”
He flung out his hand. Over a thousand talismans scattered like golden leaves.
“These are every talisman I’ve drawn since I was fifteen! Master Xuan, I’m giving them to you! Save every living soul you can!”
Xuan Zhao stood in the downpour, surrounded by savage subordinate gods, demonic water-beasts, and the raging torrent. He shouted, “You’re not afraid of death?!”
Xue Cuo threw his head back and laughed. “When a man dies, he soars like a bird! Why should only villains be struck down by the heavens? Why shouldn’t a kind-looking fellow like me be struck as well?”
He summoned the Supreme Freedom Technique, soaring into the storm, talismans bursting from his hands.
“Ignite! Ignite! Ignite!”
Xuan Zhao gritted his teeth. The little golden dragon sobbed, rolling in the floodwaters. “Eldest shixiong… wuwuwu… I want to go too!”
Xuan Zhao grabbed his horns. “Listen to your shixiong! Save the people!”
Clutching the stack of talismans, utterly confused, he stared at the monstrous fish, the evil spirits shaped from the four gods, all baring their fangs at him. The dragon had no physical form, his divine power weakened; Xuan Zhao was a thousand-year turtle who talked more than he fought.
In desperation, he hurled talismans in every direction, roaring, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”
The talismans whirled through the air, never touching the ground.
Obeying the divine order, they formed a colossal talisman soldier gripping a long spear. It charged into the flood, skewering the lurking water-monsters and sending them fleeing in terror.
Xuan Zhao and the little golden dragon shrieked with excitement, their voices cracking. With talisman-dragons surging endlessly and thousands of sheets still in reserve, the pair charged about like madmen, ferrying civilians out of the underwater city.
Meanwhile—
Xue Cuo and Ren Shu fought back to back. Even Ren Shu’s clay-like face shifted slightly. He parried the fox god’s blow and hissed through clenched teeth, “Why would you go this far?!”
Xue Cuo wasn’t remotely a match for four gods, but his luck was monstrous. Every killing strike missed him by pure accident. “Ask later! Fight first!”
Ren Shu knew time was slipping. “Destroy the temple! Stop them from awakening the Water Spirit Lord!”
“What exactly is that?!”
Ren Shu thrust his sword forward; even after thirteen years, his voice still trembled. “The Ren Temple cultivated the Dao in the flesh. Three hundred Xianghuo gods comprising of men, women, elders, children were all cut open, their blood and flesh reforged into one spirit foetus. If it awakens, Qianyun City will be annihilated. It’ll be a living hell.”
Xue Cuo sucked in a cold breath. “The Ren family… do they still have any consciousness? Can they enter reincarnation?”
Ren Shu paused, then answered with iron resolve. “Whether they can or not, the spirit foetus must be destroyed. The Water Spirit Lord must not be born.”
Xue Cuo gave a single nod. “I understand.”
Ren Shu fought desperately against the three surviving gods. Cultivators high above noticed the commotion, ready to intervene… until they realised something.
“Not good. They’ve laid a Heavenly Punishment Formation beneath the city.”
“Oh? Masters, what is a Heavenly Punishment Formation?”
Elder Ma sighed with withering disappointment. “Once activated, it traps every living being within the city, and divine retribution descends. No merit for cultivator. Nothing. This trip has been for nothing.”
“What a pity. Had we acted a moment earlier, we’d have earned half the merit.”
“Since that’s the case, let’s return to the sect. Farewell.”
“Heh, no point doing thankless deeds. Disciples, with me.”
Alongside them were temple gods who had come merely to watch the spectacle. Grumbling and yawning, they stayed, hoping that after the divine lightning fell, they might salvage a scrap of merit.
They weren’t like extravagant cultivators. Even the smallest mosquito was still meat.
No one spared the city another glance. One by one, the celestial clouds drifted away.
Ren Shu was in a horrific state, a gaping hole clean through his chest, blood dripping in steady beats. He seized Xue Cuo, eyes softening for an instant before hardening again.
“Forgive me.”
Before Xue Cuo could react, Ren Shu hurled him with all his remaining strength.
A transparent barrier sprung up at once.
Shiliu, battered and furious from Xue Cuo’s talismans, suddenly froze. Then he saw something far more terrifying.
“The Heavenly Punishment Formation?!”
Chongming realised it as well. This must have been Ren Shu’s final gambit. Thirteen years of swallowing humiliation as a crow, all to unleash this one killing move.
He intended to wipe out all four gods, along with the spirit foetus forged from the Ren family’s butchered bodies.
The fox god shrieked, “You’re mad! That spirit foetus is at least half Ren! How can you be so vicious?!”
Chongming’s expression twisted into something monstrous. She forced it down, her voice turning soft, coaxing. “Ren Shu, misunderstandings aside, we are still family. We’re both Xianghuo gods, both wronged by the mortal world. That spirit foetus is closest to you… your unborn child. How could you… truly kill it?”
Rain dripped down Ren Shu’s translucent chin. He gave a cold laugh.
“The Ren family is dead.”
“That thing is a monster. Even if I kill it a thousand times, it won’t ease the hatred in my bones.”
His long, bony fingers clenched. And the formation he had built roared to life.
Chongming’s face warped in terror. She bolted towards the edge of the city, slammed straight into a barrier, and with no other choice, sacrificed every shred of her Samsara Fire to tear open a single crack and flee.
Shiliu and the fox god, lacking such power, roared, “Even if we die, we’re dragging you with us!”
Thrown outside the barrier, Xue Cuo was frantic. He watched Chongming flee but did not chase. Instead, he folded three paper talismans and sent them flying.
Within the barrier.
Though Ren Shu had eroded the crows for more than ten years, he was no true crow. The two trapped beast gods, finding no escape, descended into madness.
Shiliu seized Ren Shu by the throat and smashed him against the barrier, trying to use his blood to force it open.
The crack of bone was chillingly clear. Ren Shu’s eyes filled with blood. “It’s useless. You’re all going to die. All of you are paying what you owe.”
The Fox God darted about in a frenzy, impotent and raging. At last his gaze fixed upon Xue Cuo. He tore Ren Shu from Shiliu’s grasp, drove his fingers into Ren Shu’s eye sockets, and clenched around the eyeballs. He shrieked at Xue Cuo: “Open the barrier! Or I’ll tear him apart, inch by inch!”
Ren Shu struggled through the agony, desperate that Xue Cuo should not witness it. “Xue Cuo, go! Go!”
Blue veins rose on Xue Cuo’s brow as he slammed a fist into the barrier. “You bastard. Let him go!”
The Fox God wrenched his fingers free and crushed the eyes in his palm. Beneath Ren Shu’s brow, only two blood-filled pits remained.
“Hahaha. Kill me if you like, you still won’t escape,” Ren Shu said, fearless even then. In a sudden burst of strength he struck the Fox God away… only for Shiliu to seize him once more. Shiliu twisted a fist in Ren Shu’s hair, malice dripping from every word.
“You thought losing your tongue freed you, did you?”
“No, no. Do you know how your ancestors died? Your mother, your father, your cousins? A spirit foetus requires the vilest thoughts, the extremity of suffering and pain to take shape. It ought to take thirty years to cultivate, but we managed it in three mere months. Don’t you want to know how we achieved it?”
“Birth, marriage, death, reincarnation… all powers of our four gods, all drawn from the spirit foetus’s inspiration.”
Ren Shu’s face twisted in horror. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
Shiliu only chuckled. “You can’t. You’ll die with us. Die together with that spirit foetus that endured all that torment. You wanted to save them? You killed them yourself.”
A deafening crack—
Shiliu looked up, stunned. The supposedly indestructible barrier had split open.
Wedged into the crack was an ancient incense burner, trembling incessantly yet as steady as bedrock.
Xue Cuo was forcing the barrier apart with his bare hands, blood pouring from all ten fingers. His face was bloodless. He forced half his body through the gap, flung out a silver chain, hooked it around Ren Shu’s waist. And yanked.
“Come out!”
“Don’t you dare die!”
Ren Shu’s body lifted, dragged clean out. But in that fleeting instant, the ecstatic Shiliu and Fox God burst out as well.
Xue Cuo’s hands shattered, bone by bone, flesh splitting open in red bursts. Ghost-pale, he clutched Ren Shu and leapt out of the barrier’s range.
Ren Shu clutched at Xue Cuo’s robe, blood streaking his cheek. A man of seven feet, he choked without sound. “Xue Cuo…”
Xue Cuo held him close, shoulders curved protectively over him. “They won’t get far.”
Ren Shu rasped, “What?”
At that moment, the heavens tore open. From the enormous rift descended a creature—dragon-like yet not—a colossal beast of black scales and crimson eyes.
A Swallowing Serpent, an ancient fiend. He had long hidden in the void, fleeing a Sword Immortal and a certain woman, never daring to feed. But today, a whim seized him; he ripped through space and descended into the mortal world. And the moment he arrived, he discovered delicacies.
Two bite-sized morsels… one fish, one fox… both radiating thick incense power. Exceptionally appetising.
Shiliu and the Fox God had barely escaped the barrier when an overwhelming pressure crashed down upon them. A boundless terror paralysing every limb.
Stiffly, they lifted their heads. A titanic head loomed above… dragon-like, eyes blood-red, gleaming with a chillingly playful light.
Panicked, they spun round and hurled themselves at the barrier, trying to force their way back.
But the barrier had sealed entirely. No door remained. Despair crushed them. They would have given anything to return to three minutes ago.
Under heavenly punishment, there might have been a sliver of hope.
But being eaten by a fellow divine creature? Not even a hair would remain.
At that moment, another fine crack split open in the sky.
A woman stepped out… thornwood hairpin, plain robes, and a dragon-patterned great sword strapped across her back.
The Swallowing Serpent’s neck locked. He turned slowly to meet a pair of still, ancient eyes. He swallowed hard, breath unsteady with indignation.
“Human woman, I bear no blood-feud with—”
“Shut up.”
The Swallowing Serpent: “…”
He growled, “I am a calamity of heaven and earth. Whatever I consume is sanctioned by—”
Xue Zhenzhen said coldly, “I’ve lost patience for that sort of talk. And today, you happened to cross me.”
Her sword split the air.
It was like mountains shattering, rivers breaking, divine fire sweeping the land.
The blade struck the Swallowing Serpent full in the face, slamming him into the barrier. He roared, “You, woman! You dare insult a god?!”
Shiliu and the Fox God exchanged one terrified glance… and fled in opposite directions.
Xue Cuo eased Ren Shu to the ground. Both were grievously wounded. Ren Shu did not reproach him for saving him nor for letting the two gods escape. His heart held only gratitude; his lips trembled.
Suddenly, a pair of blood-dipped fingers drew a talisman across his face. Light returned, revealing a familiar countenance.
He said softly, “Ren Shu-gege, they’re not getting away. I’ll carry back their heads and pour you a drink.”
…
Three thousand li away.
A figure in a black cloak, exquisite as a painted immortal, held a paper crane and gazed towards a distant direction.
Elsewhere, the swordsman who had chased his quarry to exhaustion received his own paper crane and sped towards the same place.
A white-furred tiger, having scoured the wilderness in vain, suddenly caught a blue paper butterfly. He grinned wide and bounded into the forest.
Chongming had flown for a long time. Her heart trembled with rage and grief; starving and furious, she was just about to devour blood to regain strength when she saw a white-robed monk standing upon a hill.
He turned. Blood-stained lotus beads coiled around his hand. He smiled gently.
“Please, honoured one. Stay. I hurried so very hard, and I’m glad I did not miss you.”
“Please leave your esteemed head behind, that I may share a cup with an old friend.”
