At a detached compound of the Great Compassion Zen Temple.
This temple retreat had been erected in the uninhabited wilderness near the Storm Belt specifically to guard a sacred site, the place where generations of eminent monks from the Great Compassion Zen Temple had crossed their tribulations.
Outside the temple walls, yellow sands billowed endlessly.
On this day, two figures emerged from the depths of the desert—one clad in monastic robes, the other in a Daoist gown.
To look at them, they did not appear to be riding the wind in flight, but walking almost flat against the ground. Yet they moved with astonishing swiftness, their feet never stirring the dust. Had mortals caught sight of them, they would likely have taken them for specters.
The arrivals were none other than Qin Sang and Master Huaiyin.
Master Huaiyin led the way.
Qin Sang followed closely behind, his eyes shut. A faint golden radiance flickered over the surface of his body, and his blood and qi churned restlessly—by all appearances, he was straining to suppress it.
During his three years of tempering in the Radiant Gold Sword Cave, Qin Sang had absorbed radiant gold sword qi into his body.
He was already a Deity Transformation cultivator and had once forged himself anew through the yin fire tribulation, enabling him to endure suffering far beyond what ordinary people could bear.
He had not merely allowed the radiant gold sword qi to enter his flesh; once he adjusted, he actively circulated his true essence to draw in even more. In his pursuit of optimal results, Qin Sang had practically walked the razor's edge of physical collapse the entire time, undergoing agony unimaginable to outsiders as he cleansed his meridians and marrow.
When Master Huaiyin looked in on the cavern from time to time, he could not help but marvel in admiration.
Some benefits of tempering oneself in the Radiant Gold Sword Cave did not manifest immediately. With the passage of time, radiant gold qi accumulated within the body, requiring patience to refine.
The process of refinement was itself a process of physical advancement, which Qin Sang would be able to feel in his future cultivation.
The reason he had pushed himself so ruthlessly was to absorb as much radiant gold qi as possible. Three years of bitter cultivation had brought his physical body close to its absolute limit, and the accumulated radiant gold qi was the root of his restless blood and qi.
Now, Qin Sang was using his true essence to smooth it down.
Looking inward, his true essence circulated without pause.
With every heavenly circuit completed, his blood and qi settled a fraction more.
By the time the detached compound of Great Compassion Zen Temple came into view, Qin Sang had fully restored himself, returning to his usual otherworldly Daoist demeanor.
At present, only a few monks were stationed at the retreat. All were eminent monks of the Great Compassion Zen Temple who had arrived in advance, waiting to protect Master Zhitan's Dharma during his breakthrough.
Upon entering the grounds, they did not see Master Zhitan, as he was not due to emerge from seclusion until three days later—and the moment he emerged, he would immediately attempt the breakthrough!
Master Huaiyin led Qin Sang to a quiet meditation chamber, stepped away for the time it took an incense stick to burn, and returned bearing a scroll.
The scroll was slender and felt soft to the touch.
It was precisely the Mingwang Scroll, the secret tribulation-crossing treasure of the Great Compassion Zen Temple!
Qin Sang slowly unrolled it, discovering that the scroll was made of a material akin to fine silk, as thin as a cicada's wing. The backing held a faint yellowish tint, yet the pigments remained as vivid as if newly painted.
The scroll depicted one of the legendary manifestations of Acala.
The manifestation was seated upon a stone boulder in the likeness of a youth. Seven knots crowned his head, with a single braided lock draping over his left shoulder. His left eye squinted, and his lower teeth bit into his upper lip in a wrathful countenance. Blazing flames roared behind him, while his right hand wielded a sharp sword and his left held a lasso, posed as though severing all worldly afflictions.
The painted manifestation was remarkably lifelike, carrying the authentic presence of the Wisdom King himself. It was daunting to look upon, inspiring instinctive fear and retreat in any evil spirits that beheld it.
Master Huaiyin pressed his palms together, knelt before the image of Acala, and began chanting under his breath.
What he recited was no ordinary scripture, but an esoteric mantra of boundless profundity used to activate the Mingwang Scroll.
Though Qin Sang was not a follower of the Buddha, his true self had sought instruction in the Dharma in the Western Desert, and his incarnation had spent considerable time in the sutra library of Ganlu Zen Monastery. Furthermore, this esoteric mantra was merely an operative method, so comprehending it was not difficult.
Once understood, applying it was simpler still. Qin Sang needed only to exert his full strength to drive the Mingwang Scroll, releasing the wondrous power latent within the image of Acala, and bestow its blessing upon Master Zhitan at the crucial moment. Three days were more than enough for him to master the treasure.
Committing it earnestly to memory, Qin Sang projected his divine sense into the Mingwang Scroll and devoted himself to its mysteries.
Master Huaiyin silently withdrew.
For three days straight, Qin Sang did not step outside the chamber.
When Master Xingji came to visit on the second day, he did not disturb Qin Sang either.
Finally came the dawn of the day Master Zhitan was to emerge.
The monks stood vigil outside Qin Sang's chamber. With a soft creak of the door, Qin Sang emerged, gave a slight nod to Master Xingji, and said to Master Huaiyin, "This poor Daoist has gained complete command over the Mingwang Scroll. Where does Master Zhitan intend to face his tribulation?"
Master Huaiyin bowed. "May the True Monarch accompany us to the rear mountain."
The so-called rear mountain had once been a sand dune. Eminent monks of Great Compassion Zen Temple had used great divine power to bind the sand into stone, and across several generations, monks had channeled moisture there to fashion an artificial verdant peak.
The mountain was not vast, consisting of three peaks in total.
Qin Sang and the monks descended upon the peak on the left, looking across at the central main peak.
The moment he arrived, Qin Sang sensed an anomaly and said gravely, "Master Zhitan has already begun his breakthrough."
Master Huaiyin and the others had not yet perceived anything. Hearing his words, their expressions tightened, and they stared nervously toward the main peak.
If the breakthrough failed, nothing further would come of it, and Qin Sang would not need to lift a finger, reaping his reward for free.
Across both the Western Lands and Zhongzhou, in the nearly two centuries since the fall of Daoist Zilei, no one aside from Qin Sang had publicly succeeded in breaking through to draw down the Deity Transformation tribulation.
Daoist Zilei had known nothing of the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao and rushed recklessly into his tribulation. Now, Master Zhitan had made exhaustive preparations and enlisted a Deity Transformation protector. If he succeeded in breaking through and summoning the heavenly tribulation, it would serve as a true test of the Demonic Voice's might.
*Whoosh!*
At midday, the sky abruptly darkened.
A fierce gale rose from the void.
Sand and dust whipped up beyond the mountains, blotting out the sun and plunging the surroundings of the temple into murky darkness.
Qin Sang and the others watched the main peak unblinkingly. Above it, wind and clouds converged, and the origin qi of heaven and earth surged forward like a tide, forming a visible spiritual vortex suspended against the heavens.
Qin Sang was somewhat surprised. Judging by this display, Master Zhitan stood a fair chance of breaking through. Gathering strength with immense patience over a tribulation cycle of three hundred years, releasing the harvest of long accumulation, he was indeed extraordinary.
Yet breaking through did not guarantee reaching Deity Transformation.
Even before the appearance of the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao, countless experts had perished beneath the Deity Transformation tribulation. Not everyone could breeze through the bifeng wind and heart demon tribulations as effortlessly as Qin Sang had.
Even so, anyone capable of walking this far was undeniably a peerless talent!
Without a word, Qin Sang sat cross-legged upon a rock and laid the Mingwang Scroll across his knees.
Seeing this, Master Xingji led several monks in flight toward the other peak, while Master Huaiyin remained standing in attendance beside Qin Sang.
As the hegemon of the Western Lands, the Great Compassion Zen Temple had little fear of anyone daring to disrupt Master Zhitan's tribulation, especially with Qin Sang, a Deity Transformation True Monarch, presiding over the scene. In truth, so many protectors were hardly necessary.
Qin Sang kept his eyes half-closed, relying purely on divine sense to perceive the outside world while tethering another portion of his mind to the Mingwang Scroll.
Before long, his heart stirred, and he mused inwardly, *The breakthrough succeeded!*
At the same moment, the spiritual tide above the main peak grew world-shaking. Instinctive dread arose in the hearts of the gathered monks as the center of the tide twisted and distorted—the yin fire tribulation had arrived!
The monks still could not see Master Zhitan, but they could sense the fluctuations of the yin fire.
The yin fire tribulation was the least powerful of the Deity Transformation tribulations. Any expert capable of making the attempt would surely not falter before yin fire alone.
Rather than fixating on the main peak, the monks now cast frequent glances toward Qin Sang.
Before long, Buddhist light radiated above the stone where Qin Sang sat. The scroll rose steadily into the air, unfurling high above to manifest the likeness of Acala.
The scroll itself faded into the Buddhist radiance, leaving only the manifestation, which seemed to step from the painting into reality as a genuine Acala. Facing the main peak, it fixed its gaze upon the one undergoing tribulation.
Seated behind the manifestation, Qin Sang formed Buddhist hand seals and chanted the esoteric mantra. Though it sounded identical to Master Huaiyin's recitation, it carried a peculiar, resonant cadence.
Empowered by the mantra, the flames behind Acala appeared to rage with even greater fury, enveloping Qin Sang and compelling Master Huaiyin to retreat several dozen feet.
By then, the yin fire tribulation had reached its zenith and begun to wane.
Right at the instant the yin fire vanished entirely, Qin Sang completed his incantation. A low shout escaped his throat, and his eyes snapped open with a wrathful glare mirroring the Acala before him.
In that split second, man and manifestation seemed to merge as one.
Acala raised the sharp sword in his hand, pointing its tip toward the main peak from afar, and abruptly discharged a streak of golden light.
As the light departed, every miraculous sign dissolved. The manifestation of Acala shattered, returning to the form of the Mingwang Scroll. With its spiritual luster dimmed, it tumbled back into Qin Sang's embrace.
To the others, only a beam of golden light could be seen shooting toward the main peak, but Qin Sang saw clearly that it struck Master Zhitan between the brows, dyeing his white brows and beard in shimmering gold.
Beyond Qin Sang's sight, within Master Zhitan's purple palace of the spiritual terrace, his nascent soul seemed to don a suit of golden armor.
At the very same moment, the bifeng wind manifested!
Catching the Mingwang Scroll, Qin Sang tossed it to Master Huaiyin beside him. His gaze remained fixed on the main peak. Once he confirmed the heavenly tribulation would not spill over to them, he silently circulated his profound art to regulate his breath, quietly waiting for the heart demon tribulation to decide the outcome.
In truth, Qin Sang had no precise grasp of how formidable the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao truly was. Having never experienced it firsthand, he could only estimate its rough scope.
Anomalies flared continuously over the main peak.
Following the bifeng wind tribulation, dark clouds blanketed the sky as heavenly thunder descended.
Furious lightning erupted across the area, the thunderclaps shaking the very earth.
Bolt after bolt of tribulation thunder fell like rain onto the peak. Amid the pervasive lightning, flashes of treasure light flickered from time to time, accompanied by the occasional crack of shattering objects, indicating that formation tools or magic treasures were being destroyed beneath the onslaught.
Most prominent among them was a black ruyi.
At first it appeared only intermittently, but as the lightning tribulation progressed, Master Zhitan began devoting his full attention to commanding it. It soared like a black dragon, arching up to swallow lightning and circling down to shield its master.
The terrifying heavenly thunder made the monks' eyelids twitch in apprehension. Though they could not see Master Zhitan's condition, the black ruyi's luster fluctuated erratically, showing that the struggle was far from easy.
Amid their mounting dread, the tribulation clouds birthed a final bolt of heavenly thunder that crashed toward the peak, accompanied by a wild downpour of spiritual tides.
Atop the main peak.
A stick of incense had appeared beside Master Zhitan at some point. As the tribulation thunder and spiritual tide inundated his body, his expression turned solemn, and with a sweep of his broad sleeve, he lit it.
The fragrant scent reached his nostrils, clearing his spiritual terrace.
Simultaneously, Master Zhitan finally "heard" the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao!
At this moment, Qin Sang, Master Huaiyin, and Master Xingji across from them took flight toward the main peak in unison. They saw the remnants of the tribulation-crossing formation and the old monk seated cross-legged within.
Suddenly, Master Xingji raised his head and sighed deeply toward the heavens.
Qin Sang received a voice transmission from him, saturated with sorrow. "Master Zhitan was too intoxicated by his secret breakthrough art."
At that moment, Master Zhitan was both weeping and laughing. One instant he rocked with helpless mirth, the next he wailed in bitter sorrow, and sometimes his features twisted in lewd desire. The seven emotions and six desires all manifested at once as he plunged through countless illusions of the heart demons. Moreover, whether he wept or laughed, an aura of madness lingered in his expression, growing ever more pronounced!
This was the outward manifestation of inner demons; all hope was lost.
The Spirit Calming Incense burned beside him, its delicate wisps rising, yet it was powerless to drag Master Zhitan out from the heart demon tribulation.
Qin Sang sighed inwardly. He had already heard of Daoist Zilei's struggle, how he had managed to wrest back a sliver of lucidity even at the brink of death. Yet Master Zhitan's current state fell short even of Daoist Zilei's.
It was not that the Spirit Calming Incense was completely useless. Disparities in their past experiences, mental temperaments, treasures, and techniques all played a role; without the incense, Master Zhitan's state would surely have been far worse.
Master Xingji's remark struck at the heart of the matter: gathering momentum alone had cost Master Zhitan three hundred years, and who knew how long he had prepared before that? Because he was so fiercely fixated on this secret art, he could no longer turn back.
Qin Sang and Master Xingji exchanged a glance and silently withdrew from the rear mountain, watching no further as Master Zhitan lost himself to the disgraceful turmoil of his seven emotions and six desires, preserving the dignity of the Great Compassion Zen Temple.
The monks circled the main peak, their faces etched with grief.
The next day.
Sensing the ward on his chamber disturbed, Qin Sang pushed open the door and found Master Huaiyin standing outside. His expression had already returned to normal as he bowed deeply. "On behalf of the abbot, this poor monk thanks the True Monarch for his grace in protecting the Dharma."
Qin Sang sighed. "There is no need for such ceremony, Master. Master Zhitan pressed forward knowing the odds were set against him; this poor Daoist cannot compare. Please accept my condolences."
Master Zhitan had left instructions that if his tribulation failed, everything should be kept simple. Since he had perished in the heart demon tribulation, his corpse remained intact. The monks chanted prayers for his departure, cremated his mortal remains, and placed his sarira into a Buddhist shrine.
Qin Sang stayed until the memorial rituals concluded before taking his leave.
He traveled back in the company of Master Xingji.
Following Master Zhitan's demise, the way the monks—including Master Huaiyin—looked upon Qin Sang had shifted, tinged with a deeper reverence. To outsiders, it was impossible to fathom: had the efficacy of the superior Spirit Calming Incense vastly exceeded that of ordinary Spirit Calming Incense, or was this Monarch Qin's Dao heart simply so flawless and unshakeable?
In truth, Qin Sang was harboring doubts of his own. Having witnessed the terror of the Demonic Voice of the Heavenly Dao with his own eyes, he realized just how horrifying this tribulation was. Could superior Spirit Calming Incense truly be enough?
Regardless, concocting the superior incense remained an imperative. Since they possessed three medicine bases, they would simply test its effects once refined.
Upon returning to Zhongzhou, Master Xingji invited Qin Sang to Ganlu Zen Monastery, but Qin Sang declined.
The Western Lands were merely one realm among many; farther ahead lay the Canglang Ocean and the North Sea, and there was no time to lose.
Having already made all necessary arrangements prior to his departure, he did not even return to Luye. Instead, he traversed the Eastern Sea directly and entered the Storm Belt from there.
He intended to visit the Canglang Ocean first.
Before leaving the North Sea, he had left instructions behind, so people there had been searching for the Ascension Platform all along, even if they had not mobilized an entire domain's strength as Zhongzhou and the Western Lands had.
Traversing the Storm Belt after reaching Deity Transformation felt completely different from doing so in the Nascent Soul realm.
He could now make rudimentary use of heaven-and-earth power, directly absorbing the chaotic origin qi within the Storm Belt. Though doing so was far less convenient than in the cultivation realm, it replenished his consumption and allowed him to sustain flight for far longer without having to borrow the Ten Directions Earth-Cleaving Divine Shuttle from Liuli.
Qin Sang did not push forward at top speed. He flew at a measured pace, using the journey to comprehend various divine abilities and secret arts.
Refining the radiant gold qi within him was essential. Furthermore, Qin Sang had discovered that since the Inner Lion Seal and the Seven Master Buddha Seals were both Buddhist seals, cultivating them together yielded excellent results.
From time to time, he would also summon the Grey Oriole Sword to drill the Seven Mansions Division Sword Array.
Meanwhile, the poison pearl in his dantian steadily devoured poisonous mist.
Over the course of his long voyage, his strength grew bit by bit.
Perhaps fortune smiled upon Qin Sang, for throughout nearly twenty years of speeding through the Storm Belt, he did not encounter a single fierce beast.
Chapter 1726