Wei Yuan raised his spear to the heavens. At this very moment, every living being residing within the domain and calling it home felt as if something had been drawn from their bodies, gathering entirely at the tip of Wei Yuan's spear.
A dim point of light flickered uncertainly atop the spearhead.
Above in the heavens and below on the earth, everyone was suddenly seized by the melancholy sensation of entering old age and watching the setting sun. Everything was withering away, destined ultimately to return to silence.
Even immortals were not eternal; a day would come when they dispersed and returned to heaven and earth.
Wei Yuan seemed to reach an epiphany, thrusting the spear straight toward the immortal thunder!
The space around the lingering immortal thunder abruptly plunged into twilight. That patch of sky turned dim and gloomy as decay and extinction loomed. The immortal thunder lost its spiritual nature and vitality, like an old man with one foot in the grave, finally arriving at his end and tumbling into the tomb.
The immortal thunder flickered in a final struggle before drawing in countless dusky specks of light, condensing into a silver crystal orb that tumbled down into Wei Yuan's hand.
Without time for a closer look, Wei Yuan stowed the orb and mentally revisited the thrust he had just unleashed.
Dusk of the Immortal Path gathered the strength of all living beings in the domain—gathering grains of sand into a tower, focusing them into a single point. It could instantly plunge an enemy into rot and decrepitude. Even an immortal would struggle to escape such a strike, suffering a loss of lifespan.
This divine marvel allowed the lowly to strike the lofty, marshaling the power of mortal life to counter-slay high immortals. Truly astounding, it reached the realm of usurping the very creations of heaven and earth.
It was far too profound; at this moment, Wei Yuan had not grasped even a ten-thousandth of its mysteries. He only sensed vaguely that it was related to time, though he could not tell whether it accelerated the enemy's own passage of time or directly shaved away their lifespan.
It was only a pity that the first strike born of this epiphany had not been directed at the Shamans, but spent on the immortal thunder looming overhead.
The immortal thunder had hung aloft without falling, and Wei Yuan naturally understood what that meant. In the history books, this was called hanging a sword from the rafters—a perpetual reminder to ministers of the emperor's majesty, where the slightest misstep would cost them their heads.
Wei Yuan suddenly wondered how the immortals above would feel if they knew that their supreme bolt of immortal thunder had been destroyed by countless mortal creatures, each contributing a tiny sliver of life.
So it was that ten thousand ants could fell an elephant. Mortals gathered as a sea could bring down an immortal.
When Wei Yuan's spear brought down the immortal thunder, the crowd watching from the skies erupted into turmoil. Some were bewildered, some shocked, some incandescent with rage.
Since ancient times, humanity had stood upon this world only through the grace of the immortals.
The immortals dwelt on high, unified with heaven and earth, unified with the Great Dao. Every movement they made, every joy and sorrow, was an aspect of the heavenly Dao. Even if an immortal merely vented their wrath, there had to be a reason—either fulfilling an ancient karma or initiating a new one.
Thunder and rain, dew and frost—all were the mercy of immortals.
Countless cultivators labored diligently their entire lives just for that final step. Achieving Unity and stepping through the immortal gate was their faith, the pillar that sustained their hundreds or thousands of years of bitter cultivation.
Immortals could not be wrong, just as the Great Dao could not be wrong.
Immortals might disagree, but those were disputes over the Great Dao, having nothing to do with the mortal realm. Put another way, without passing through the immortal gate, one was unqualified to judge the rights and wrongs of an immortal.
Even someone like Bao Yun could only face the immortal thunder with her Dao Foundation and physical body, ultimately suffering damage to her foundation and the obliteration of an arm. In the eyes of the crowd, this was the punishment owed for defying an immortal. As arrogant as Baoshu was, he had still declared that the Bao family was at fault. Though he stated they would not change their ways, he had, in essence, acknowledged the wrongdoing.
The Bao family also had an Immortal Monarch and had no fear of Xu Wangu, yet this was a matter of fundamental order. If Bao Yun could criticize Xu Wangu today, someone else could criticize the Bao family's immortal ancestor tomorrow. Thus, this was not a private feud of a single clan or surname, but the fundamental order of the entire cultivation hierarchy and the mortal dynasties.
As the ancient sages said, this was propriety.
In the final years of the ancient Li Dynasty, the Marquis of Zheng had openly shot an arrow at the Son of Heaven before the battle lines, shocking the entire world. From that moment on, rites and music fell into ruin; even the Son of Heaven could be attacked, treated no differently from any feudal lord.
By obliterating the immortal thunder with a mortal body, Wei Yuan's spear had struck against the order of the world and ten thousand years of faith.
Wei Yuan stood poised with his spear, remaining motionless for a long time. The striking figure of that thrust was seared into the depths of countless hearts from that moment forward.
A squad of Shaman warriors crept stealthily forward, but at a glare from Wei Yuan, they shrank back in fright. Under the watchful eyes of the surrounding Shamans, Wei Yuan unhurriedly drew back his spear. In truth, every movement sent piercing pain coursing through his entire body.
Even an incomplete Dusk of the Immortal Path could annihilate immortal thunder—it was simply not something a Dao Foundation cultivator was meant to use. Strong as Wei Yuan's dharma body was, it could hardly bear the converged power of the countless living beings within the domain. Mortals were merely a minority; there were also countless flowers, birds, fish, and insects, as well as numerous spiritual flora and mystical plants!
The instant the spear struck, countless hidden injuries flared across his body. Had his dharma body not been forged by stacking twenty million immortal silver, anyone else would have disintegrated on the spot! Wei Yuan had held that pose for so long not out of vanity, but simply because he could not move.
Silently directing Jia Wood Life-Mystic into himself, Wei Yuan let surging vitality flood his body, rapidly repairing the countless injuries until he could finally move again, immediately throwing himself back into combat with the Shamans.
These Shamans truly lived up to their reputation as the world's elite; even after sustaining nearly seventy percent casualties, they fought on without retreating. Though the warriors had hesitated earlier, once the clash resumed, they discarded all thought of life and death.
Jia Wood Life-Mystic rolled through Wei Yuan's body. With every passing moment, fresh wounds opened while many others healed. Caught in this cycle of healing and tearing, his injuries steadily worsened, even as more and more Shamans fell at his feet.
Without his noticing, the lingering essence of countless dead gathered upon Wei Yuan, vanishing into the Jade Mountain. The green shoot atop the Jade Mountain grew slowly, gradually unfurling another leaf. Yet this leaf was a faint, eerie black, ominous to behold.
After fighting for who knew how long, Wei Yuan's legs suddenly went soft, and he nearly dropped to his knees. Fortunately, he propped himself up with his spear, avoiding a true collapse.
Before Wei Yuan appeared a Shaman cloaked entirely in robes, holding a military standard. It looked at Wei Yuan, uttering unintelligible sounds. This was the current commander of the Shaman troops, the seventh of the ten captains to take over command.
Wei Yuan had been hunting for it all along, but as his strength waned, he had been unable to cut through the thick enemy lines. This Shaman Scholar was cunning, keeping itself under the strict guard of its soldiers.
Its command was seasoned and precise, weaving an unbroken barrage of witchcraft. Rather than attacking Wei Yuan directly, it focused on harassment and restricting his movements, tormenting him relentlessly.
Only now, when Wei Yuan could barely stand, did it finally show itself before him.
Though Wei Yuan could not understand its words, he grasped their general gist. He sneered, "Even drained of strength, I am not someone a petty demon like you can humiliate!"
The Shaman Scholar looked at the spear pointed at it and let out a hissing laugh. The spear could barely be held steady; what could he possibly do?
A faint ripple of Dao power suddenly coursed through the spear. With a loud blast, amidst a plume of dust, the spearhead sank entirely into the Shaman Scholar's chest! Wei Yuan pointed a finger, and with another blast, the spearhead shattered into eight neat fragments, instantly shredding everything inside the Shaman Scholar's chest cavity!
The Shaman Scholar was filled with horror, having no idea how it had been injured. Looking down at the gaping hole in its chest, it tried to shove the spilling blood and organ fragments back inside. Yet the viscera kept pouring out. Finally, its knees struck the ground, its head tilted, and it moved no more.
Wei Yuan let out a hearty laugh, but halfway through, his voice grew hoarse, and he coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood.
The spear was gone, but the battle was far from over. Wei Yuan searched his Dao Foundation, intending to find another weapon. His gaze fell upon the immortal laurel branch, and he reached out to pull it, but the branch swiftly darted to the other side of the Jade Mountain, refusing to be drawn.
Wei Yuan froze. A sudden pang seized his heart, and he jerked his head up. At some point, the sky had turned red! The crimson was so dense that drops of blood were already trickling down!
Another blood curse?!
This blood curse was completely different from any Wei Yuan had encountered before. Its bloody aura contained boundless killing intent; each falling drop made Wei Yuan's heart shudder instinctively.
A blood curse like this would require only a few drops to severely damage Qingming and reduce half the domain to dead ground.
Beside his shock and fury, Wei Yuan felt a touch of bewilderment. If the Shamans possessed such means, why had they not used them earlier? They would not even have needed such a grand display; just half—no, a third—of its power would have sufficed to annihilate Qingming. To unleash it only now, was it not using an ox cleaver to kill a chicken?
The blood rain fell swiftly, turning in an instant into a howling tempest!
Yet not a single drop touched the ground. Instead, every drop drifted toward a cluster of clouds in the sky!
Within the clouds, seven or eight dharma idols instantly materialized, each possessing its own wondrous majesty. Yet beneath the blood rain, these dharma idols were almost powerless to resist; every falling drop punched a gaping hole through their forms!
In that split second, Wei Yuan suddenly understood. This was the Shamans' true reserve! Their target had never been him, nor Yue Jinshan to the north, but these Perfected Persons watching from the skies!
The blood rain came fast and vanished just as quickly, devastating everything in its path. In the blink of an eye, it swept the clouds clean. Only a half-charred giant tree managed to escape, vanishing past the horizon in an instant.
In the mere time it took to drink a cup of tea, seven Perfected Persons had fallen!
To the north, a Shaman Scholar stood up in the rear guard of the Shaman army. Beneath his robe, his frame was exceptionally tall and emaciated, standing over twenty feet tall. As he drew himself up, his aura surged straight into the heavens!
He laughed heartily and declared, "The master has succeeded! Since those tens of thousands from the Western Jin won't come to us, we shall go to them and see just how much Yue Jinshan—who even gives the Northern Liao savages a headache—is truly worth!"
The Shaman rear guard cast off all concealment, wheeling around with a thunderous roar as an army of one hundred thousand marched grandly toward the Western Jin forces.
A Shaman Scholar asked, "What of the domain back there?"
"That place is just small fry; pay it no mind. We'll devour Yue Jinshan first. Humans are crafty—don't let them slip away!"
Chapter 197