Ravings

Jinyu Province. Sacred King Qinghu had little interest in the humans' Dharma gathering. Upon learning that ferocious beasts had appeared, he had dragged Sage Huiguang out into the Storm Belt, and the two of them had only just returned. Before them lay a gigantic geographic chart, mainly depicting the northern region of Zhongzhou, with most of the markings located within the Storm Belt beyond the barrier. "According to the information our monastery has gathered over many years, more than eighty percent of the ferocious beasts appeared north of Zhongzhou," Sage Huiguang said, raising a hand to trace a circle on the chart. Yet Sacred King Qinghu seemed somewhat absentminded. "Last night at midnight, did you sense a strange raving emerging within the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao?" Sage Huiguang's expression froze slightly. "So you did hear it," Sacred King Qinghu sighed softly. "Though the mumbling was fleeting, I could hardly have imagined it. Before, one could still explain away the demonic voice as an aberration of the Heavenly Dao. But what was that raving? Could someone truly be eroding the Heavenly Dao itself?" Sage Huiguang fell silent for a long time before replying, "It may not necessarily be a person behind it. It could still be an anomalous shift in the Heavenly Dao creating an illusion of ravings. That voice was distinctly devoid of reason, its meaning entirely unintelligible." "Whatever lies behind it, it is an ill omen." Sacred King Qinghu countered, "Whether it holds meaning is something one can know only after communicating with it. In this world, only you and I can perceive the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao. Old monk, would you dare make the first move to converse with it?" "Most likely, there would be no response. Like the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao, the raving is steeped in endless madness." Sage Huiguang did not explain the basis for his deduction. Sacred King Qinghu added, "Directly perceiving the ravings might also accelerate the rate at which madness erodes us, destabilizing our Dao foundations and perhaps even beckoning some great terror." That was the most fatal risk. "Just what has happened to this realm?" Sacred King Qinghu could not help but lament. When a nest is overturned, no egg remains unbroken. With the Heavenly Dao warping in this realm, first came the demonic voice, followed by the ravings—what would come next? In the bleaker scenario, the demonic voice's reach might one day no longer be confined to the Deity Transformation stage, and the madness would spread across all living things. If this minor realm was hurtling toward destruction, billions of lives would have no choice but to be buried alongside it! Sacred King Qinghu and Sage Huiguang were the most unwilling to accept such a fate. They had already reached the pinnacle of this realm. They needed only to cultivate step-by-step and accumulate sufficient power before crossing east to Guixu, passing through the Beacon Gate, and breaking free from this cage. Yet just as transcendence stood within reach, they had run headlong into this unheard-of anomaly, against which all their divine abilities left them entirely helpless. Beneath the realm of immortals, all were mere ants. They had heard those words countless times in their early days of meager cultivation, feeling the sting of their truth deeply. But with their ever-growing strength and soaring status, they had come to command absolute authority over life and death in this realm, taking whatever they pleased. It had been an eternity since either had felt like an ant. Sage Huiguang had no answer. Their gazes returned to the geographic chart. Sacred King Qinghu said, "The ferocious beasts are appearing noticeably less often than at the beginning. We must capture the next beast that passes by. I have no desire to wait another few centuries!" Sage Huiguang replied, "Even for a beast whose cultivation matches ours, capturing it alive will be exceedingly arduous. Ferocious beasts know no fear; once wounded, their savagery only flares brighter. They will never surrender without a fight. We must make thorough preparations." "Half the banners of my Shougong Immortal Formation are ancient immortal banners, and with you personally presiding over the Vajra Demon-Subduing Formation, old monk, our chances are considerable. Still, to lure the beast step-by-step into the array requires meticulous advance planning. Let us lay the trap starting from that spot we selected earlier..." As Sacred King Qinghu spoke, he tapped several locations on the chart in quick succession. While the two were plotting the hunt, the Dharma gathering was in full swing. Sage Huiguang intended to draw the snake from its hole. Not only had he erased the memories of the cultivators near Wuwang Hall, but he had also deliberately concealed his tracks. Only a scant few, such as Master Xingji, knew of the Deity Transformation cultivator's return. Today, the gathering had reached its most anticipated event: the combat trials. For this occasion, the Jinyu Sect had specially refined the Golden Gate Grand Formation. Four golden gates, each ten thousand feet tall, towered in the void, aligned with the four cardinal directions. Between the golden gates spread a vast sea of dense clouds. This was the arena where the cultivators from various sects would duel. With waves of mist surging, the colossal expanse offered ample room for Nascent Soul cultivators to unleash their divine abilities to their hearts' content. Runes flickered across the pillars of the golden gates. Experts of the Jinyu Sect were stationed at the four quarters, flanking the gates and remaining on standby to handle any unexpected developments. At this moment, spectator seats formed from condensed cloud vapors surrounded the arena on all sides, rising tier after tier in dense, tightly packed rows. The seats were crowded with people, leaving scarcely an empty spot. The northern section was comparatively sparse, reserved for the powerhouses of the major sects. As the host, Jin Wudai, Sect Master of the Jinyu Sect, sat squarely in the center, looking upon the magnificent spectacle with undisguised pride and satisfaction. Ganlu Zen Monastery and Bajing Abbey flanked him on either side, while the other sects occupied their designated positions. Daoist Qishen of Bajing Abbey was disguised as the abbey's master, Daoist Zilei. Since arriving in Jinyu Province, he had kept a low profile and lived in seclusion, appearing only once during the grand opening ceremony of the gathering. Yet the combat trials directly affected the final distribution of interests. Even if he had pressing matters to attend to, failing to show his face today would no longer be excusable. In the arena, two figures clashed amidst the sea of clouds. The duel between a man and a woman had reached its climax, pitting Daoist Yang of Bajing Abbey against Yuzhi, an expert of the Jinyu Sect. The female cultivator, Yuzhi, had a petite figure and skin like jade, more delicate than an infant's, as though the gentlest touch might break it. She wielded a thirty-foot crimson ribbon. As the ribbon danced, it produced crisp, ringing metallic chimes. It turned out that a row of round, square-holed gold coins was embedded along the ribbon. With every sweep, golden and red radiance flashed alternately. Her figure shifted and glided, appearing to dance alongside the ribbon in an enchanting display. Yet the beauty was merely skin-deep. Only Daoist Yang, facing her in battle, knew the ribbon's true terror. He manipulated a thumb-sized jade sword. This was his natal magic treasure, refined from a rare variety of spiritual jade, capable of piercing an opponent's protective true essence with extraordinary power. Yet against Yuzhi, Daoist Yang groaned inwardly. Concealed within the radiant light of the dancing ribbon were exceptionally fine golden threads. Every time the jade sword struck, hitting those golden threads subjected it to distinct resistance, severely dampening its sword light and allowing Yuzhi to evade it with ease. What frustrated Daoist Yang most was that whenever the jade sword drew near the golden threads, they would turn the tables, clinging like maggots on rotting bone and wrapping themselves around the blade. *Pfft!* Once again, the jade sword was repelled without achieving anything. Daoist Yang shifted his tactics, intending to engage Yuzhi in a war of attrition with his sword to probe for an opening. To his surprise, just as the jade sword orbited around Yuzhi, the blade suddenly shuddered and nearly slipped out of his control. Daoist Yang's face drained of color. He let out a sharp cry, forcefully recalling the jade sword, and immediately retreated to put distance between himself and Yuzhi, his expression rife with vigilance. Seeing this, a look of satisfaction flashed in Jin Wudai's eyes. Leaning slightly toward his neighbor, he asked, "In Abbey Master's view, how will this duel between my seventh sister and Daoist Yang turn out?" "Fellow Daoist Yuzhi's *Chiseled Gold Jade-Controlling Art* has reached the realm of perfection. With Martial Nephew Yang's natal magic treasure restrained, he is bound to lose." Daoist Qishen answered somewhat absently. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a monk hurrying into the arena, walking briskly toward Master Xingji.