Chapter 141: Dao Ancestor Xuanhuang

Thousands of rays of light shot forth simultaneously, resembling the reincarnation of a god. At the summit of the firmament, the countenance of the venerable monk Zhiyuan transformed into a wisp of auspicious cloud, bearing a faint smile.

"Courting death!" Upon seeing the prize of his desire fall into the hands of another, Monarch Fengchen let out an angry roar. His hand morphed into a talon, lunging toward Lin Feng. This demonic claw was as large as a winnowing basket and shaped like an eagle's talons, its sharp nails pitch-black and gleaming. With a single grab, it was bound to crush a person into a pulp of flesh and blood, instantly closing in amidst a shroud of ferocious demonic energy.

"Inverse Annihilation of the Firmament!" Yan Dongjue roared fiercely, like a fierce eagle protecting its young. His tall stature blocked Lin Feng's path. As the demonic claw met the seven-colored barrier of light head-on with a vicious grab—crack! The demonic claw and the barrier shattered simultaneously; wisps of black qi dissipated like smoke, while the light barrier dissolved into countless specks of starlight.

"Puff!" Yan Dongjue once again spat out a large mouthful of fresh blood. Realizing the truth, the disciples finally stepped forward to shield their master.

"Cease your resistance! Yan Dongjue, you are already grievously wounded; how can you hope to contend with this monarch? Today, our Sacred Sect flourishes. If you and your fellows surrender to the command of the Sect Master, you will surely ascend to the Heavenly Dao in days to come and share in eternal life. As for this sarira, I can even make a personal gesture and bestow it upon this junior. Well then? Do you submit or not?" Monarch Fengchen stood with his hands behind his back upon the clouds, every word ringing out across the firmament like pearls and jade. Having fought the venerable monk Zhiyuan for so long, he showed not the slightest trace of fatigue; instead, his words carried boundless power and majesty, striking the heart like a military decree.

Grandmaster Wudao, Daoist Master Chunyang, and the other sect leaders were hardly going to surrender meekly at a single word from the demonic monarch. Instead, they grew even more ferocious. Without a word, they unleashed their ultimate techniques, engaging in a bitter battle against the various chieftains of the demonic path.

"Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ren Qiansu, how could we adherents of the righteous path ever allow ourselves to be manipulated by you? If we cannot exterminate the Demonic Cult in this lifetime, we shall battle you across the chessboard again in the next! Until we annihilate you wicked wretches, we shall never rest! Fellow cultivators, today our righteous path suffers a great tragedy, but we still possess the strength for one final struggle. To slay a single foe is to rid the world of a scourge! To leave one's name in the chronicles of history hereafter is a feat to sing and weep over! Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Yan Dongjue shouted the word three times in succession, his voice filled with extraordinary grief and indignation, soaring with heroic spirit. Yet everyone present understood deep down that since this crusade against demons had failed, they had reached a dead end. Their only option was that slaying one enemy broke even, while slaying two yielded a profit; withdrawing completely unscathed was already an utter impossibility.

"Absurd! Yan Dongjue, it matters not if you alone perish, but why drag your many disciples and fellow practitioners to their deaths with you? Among all of you present here, who can rival this monarch and the Left Envoy? Though you possess profound cultivation, you insist on seeking your own destruction. I truly feel a deep sense of regret and pity for you. Our Sacred Sect pursues supreme Daoist techniques; our Sect Master holds a profound fondness for talented individuals and explores the Heavenly Dao alongside us—truly the finest strategy in cultivation. Which sect in all the world possesses the grand momentum of our Myriad Demonic Heavens? Our Sacred Sect boasts abundant resources, gathering the spiritual qi of heaven and earth and treasures of nature; it is a sacred land yearned for by all. Even if your six major academies and the Floating Pagoda of a Hundred Flowers were to combine forces, they would still fall short. Why not wake up to reality sooner rather than later?"

Monarch Fengchen delivered this speech with eloquent smoothness. Had it come from the lips of a righteous grandmaster, it might have passed, but spoken by him, it was a distortion of right and wrong, an attempt to bewitch hearts and dismantle the willpower of the crowd.

Shen Yinnan stood quietly to the side, watching with a cold eye as if she held complete control over the entire situation.

"Utter nonsense! Your Myriad Demonic Heavens is a cesspool of filth, spurned by all righteous practitioners under heaven. Ren Qiansu, despite being an expert of a generation, you actually attempt to shake our foundational nature of cultivation with this—pure wishful thinking! Today, we of the righteous path discuss the Dao through martial might and will waste no more breath on you. Show us your demonic arts!" Yan Dongjue straightened his posture, drawing the Ten-Absolute Sword. His entire body seemed infused with boundless momentum, devoid of any decadent decline.

While the two rivals engaged in verbal combat and hurled challenges, Lin Feng, standing behind Yan Dongjue, had unconsciously slipped into a state of self-forgetfulness. He could no longer hear or see anything, completely cut off from all external phenomena, yet his physical body was undergoing a rapid transformation.

The Buddhist monk's sarira! After the seven-colored sarira left behind by the nirvana of the venerable monk Zhiyuan imprinted itself upon his forehead, it slid downward along an unimaginable trajectory. With a clear ring like pearls falling upon a jade plate, it was precisely swallowed by the Twenty-Four-Grade Red Lotus Flame of the Flame Heart. Boom! This silent flame was like boiling oil poured upon it, burning fiercely. Gradually, circles of script and arcane secrets began to coil around his entire body, and his skin turned the color of gold.

Thousands of Buddhist teachings, martial arts canons, cultivation techniques, the entanglements of mortal dust, principles and divine abilities—everything, every single memory, comprehension, fragmented piece, and imprint was refined by the Karmic Fire of the Red Lotus. Experiencing a rebirth through nirvana, they all settled deep within Lin Feng's consciousness, wave after wave, resembling vast stars—tranquil yet abundant, deeply etched into his soul.

So much knowledge, cultivation techniques, Daoist methods, and spells fused together as if he were living a second life. In this fleeting instant, time became eternity!

Lin Feng's mindset rose and fell dramatically alongside this process: from his initial astonishment to calm acceptance, his heart was now as tranquil as a placid lake, having seemingly experienced hundreds of millions of worldly reincarnations. His perspective on all things and all people had fundamentally shifted, imbued with a transcendent detachment from the mundane world.

Beside him, Feng Yiyuan and Chen Yuxi tightly guarded their junior brother. Though their faces bore expressions of astonishment, their willpower remained resolute, swearing to protect Lin Feng's safety at all costs.

"Incorrigible..." A faint sigh, seemingly originating from primordial antiquity, drifted over. Suddenly, a gigantic and peerless wave of intense magical power swept across the entire void, shaking the clouds and mists of the sky into panicked retreat.

A mass of misty, profound yellow Qi materialized out of thin air at the cloud's summit, then suddenly rolled and stirred. A Daoist with blurred facial features fully manifested. Standing beside him was a strange beast resembling a single-humped camel, no larger than a domesticated puppy, its eyes flashing with golden light in the shape of cross stars, treading upon white flames and looking immensely majestic. It was impossible to tell what species of exotic beast it was.

This Daoist drifted in wide sleeves, his robes awash in a reddish-yellow hue. He stood motionless, yet resembled a towering mountain lying across their path.

"Welcome, Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang!" Monarch Fengchen Ren Qiansu and Imperial Concubine Shen Yinnan exchanged glances and immediately called out in respectful unison.

"Spare the formalities! The two of you have managed affairs so ineptly; truly, each generation is inferior to the last. With the Sacred Sect managed by the likes of you, how can the rest of us rest easy!" Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang sighed, sounding as though he were chatting familiarly with juniors. On the side of the righteous path, however, everyone felt as though they had plunged into an icy abyss, and even the last shred of courage to resist gradually drained away.

"Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang... That old demon is actually still alive! Where is the justice in heaven..." Horror surfaced in Yan Dongjue's eyes, and his remaining desire to fight to the death dissipated, leaving him like a fish on a chopping board, awaiting the enemy's slaughter.

Upon hearing the old demon's moniker, Grandmaster Wudao, Daoist Master Chunyang, He Zhibai, and others were likewise struck with terror. Their hands fumbled repeatedly in battle, and signs of defeat grew glaringly obvious.

The name of Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang was known to only a few within the righteous and demonic factions—those of advanced years or those holding supreme authority over their respective sects. The demon's cultivation had long since become unfathomable; judged by his age, he was at least a rogue demon who had survived four or five heavenly tribulations! The exotic beast by his side was an ancient species—the cloud-treading, lightning-wielding Golden-Eyed Camel. This little fellow alone was a match no one present could defeat.

Against such an unrivaled expert, no one among the righteous path could fight unless it were the hermits of seclusion. Even the leaders of the three major sects would likely prove helpless, unable to withstand a single blow from him.

"Heaven is truly destroying us..." Yan Dongjue uttered an unresigned cry deep within his heart.

After Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang finished his lament, no one dared to respond. His head turned slightly, seemingly surveying the entire battlefield, before he suddenly let out a long sigh and swept his wide sleeve!

The sky darkened and the earth grew dim as the scene shifted drastically! Dual shadows of light and dark composed a sky full of yellow sand, their feet treading upon illusory clouds, completely unaware of where they now stood. Everyone on the righteous path turned pale with shock; Daoist Ancestor Xuanhuang, Monarch Fengchen, and the others had completely vanished from sight. It was glaringly obvious that they had fallen into some sort of magical treasure or succumbed to the old demon's spell.

"Do not panic, everyone! Gather together. This is a sealing formation!" Yan Dongjue calmly directed the group. Finding slight reassurance upon coming together, they made a rough count and realized only twenty-odd people remained.

Lin Feng, lingering in a state of supreme clarity, sat cross-legged within the void, completely unaware that a drastic change had transpired in the external world. Thousands of thoughts converged within his soul's sea of consciousness. The lotus leaves of the Flame Heart grew increasingly distinct, emitting a captivating golden light. Faintly, it seemed as if a white lotus were blooming.

Spirit-Doting, Spirit-Greedy, and the others, their eyes brimming with tears, surrounded Lin Feng, chanting Buddhist sutras in low murmurs with sorrowful expressions.

"Fellow cultivators, Old Demon Xuanhuang's cultivation is unfathomable. Should any of us manage to escape this calamity alive, you must inform the world of these events, widely invite experts, and once again purge the world of pests for the righteous path!" Yan Dongjue's tone was resolute, yet it was spoken with a heart prepared for certain death.

"Indeed! This poor Daoist believes that by capturing us, he intends to hand us over to the Demonic Sect Master, Huang Minghuang. When that time comes, we shall exert our utmost strength to carve out a bloody path. Daoist Brother Dongjue, you must seize that opportunity to escape—that will be our greatest fortune!" Daoist Master Chunyang wore a composed expression. His Daoist robes were already soaked through with fresh blood, and the sun, moon, and star patterns emblazoned upon them had turned crimson red.

Yan Dongjue hastily waved his hand and firmly stated, "I am already grievously wounded and can hardly escape the clutches of the Demonic Sect. Fellow cultivators, we must select someone with profound cultivation and extraordinary courage, and spare no effort to help him escape the enemy's clutches. That is the ultimate strategy."

"Amitabha, what Daoist Brother says is entirely correct. I have long heard that the Floating Willow Seven-Fragrance Pace of the Hanheng Palace is unparalleled in the world. This poor monk believes Fairy Jingbo is the most suitable candidate for this task," Grandmaster Wudao said.

Fairy Jingbo, Zhou Feihe, hastily declined, speaking with a solemn expression, "Grandmaster flatters me. This junior's cultivation is shallow, and I have yet to bring my movement technique to perfection. Master Kumu should shoulder this responsibility instead. With the Master's noble character and high prestige, he will surely be able to deliver our message."

Master Kumu was about to decline in turn, but at that moment, the monks of the Floating Pagoda and the members of the Hundred Flowers Sect grew utterly impatient. All of them wished to recommend Lin Feng for escape, yet helplessly, he remained in deep meditation, oblivious to external matters, and incapable of persuading the others in such a state.

Yuxi wore an anxious expression, opening her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She knew full well that Lin Feng was the key to everyone's escape, yet she could not arbitrarily make decisions on his behalf or reveal the secret lore of the Yinque Palace, thus falling into a dilemma.

While everyone was deliberating on how to break free, suddenly, boundless black qi swept through the all-encompassing yellow sand. Shouting that disaster was imminent, the crowd hurriedly held their breath, quieted their minds, and used the embryonic breathing technique to protect themselves. This black qi blew across heaven and earth, penetrating skin and flesh into the meridians, heading straight for the dantian and spiritual consciousness. Those with weak cultivation instantly fainted, and even figures as formidable as Master Kumu and Yan Dongjue could only resist for a brief moment before collapsing unconscious.

Within this hazy, grey space, everyone, including Lin Feng, became like rigid corpses—unable to move and completely devoid of perception.