Wrath's Fall

At the northernmost edge of the State of Yue, a majestic peak soared into the clouds. Its ridgeline wound in continuous, magnificent folds, yet its very highest point had taken a sword strike. The cross-section was smooth and level, causing its imposing aura to stall with an indescribable awkwardness. Upon that sheared summit, a white-robed man reclined lazily amidst the mist, one leg crossed over the other. Cradled in his arms was a sword with an unremarkable wooden scabbard, while thick mist veiled his face, obscuring his features. The northern gale atop the peak blew fierce and bone-chilling, yet he wore only a simple white robe. Toying with the jade pendant hanging from his sword, he muttered softly, "Wrathful Mahasattva..." From below flew up a woman with fluttering robes. Her hair was styled like coiled clouds holding a jasper moon, magical light flowing all over her person. Her dangling hairpin was translucent and crystalline, clearly no ordinary object. Descending upon iridescent light, she greeted gently: "Shangyuan." "Mm," Master Shangyuan replied, staring into the distance as though he could see through the layers of dense fog to the battle at Mount Bianyan. He said flatly, "With the Wrathful Aspect about to die, this gluttonous feast should finally draw to a close. Pity the millions who perished in the State of Xu—not even a splash was made." The woman knitted her delicate brows and sighed, replying, "True enough... From the Shakya cultivators' eastward march to the great war in the State of Xu, and finally to this encirclement of the Wrathful Mahasattva, it was always a grand feast. Three Mahasattvas of the Seven Paths fulfilled their karmic destinies and claimed mounts, the demon race saw two become great demons, and we reclaimed our territory and eliminated the volatile Wrathful Aspect. Each side profited, so things ought to quiet down." Even as the female cultivator spoke, golden light flared in the distance. Chains emerged from the void one after another, binding the Wrathful Mahasattva's golden body. As the Mahasattva roared toward the heavens, Master Shangyuan raised a brow and whispered: "The Golden Bridge Lock." "Indeed," the female cultivator replied, focusing her gaze. "It is a magic treasure bestowed by the Immortal Mansion for True Monarch Qingyuan Lushui's past merits... It seems the True Monarch intends to wipe him out completely, unwilling to spare even a shred of true spirit." Upon hearing this, the dense mist over Master Shangyuan's face roiled for a moment, as if he were fighting to suppress something. He suddenly spoke, his voice brimming with deep-seated hatred: "Old bastard... Sooner or later I will tear apart his immortal body, shatter his Golden Core, and make him taste..." "Shangyuan!" The female cultivator's face paled, and she hurriedly tugged at his sleeve, whispering, "No matter what... he is still a Golden Core cultivator! How can you speak so recklessly?" "Mm." Master Shangyuan reined in his emotions and nodded nonchalantly. His Dharma eyes tracked the cultivator falling into the forest until the man landed safely. Only then did Master Shangyuan pat the sharp blade in his arms and say, "I'll go take a look." ---- Mount Bianyan. Chains densely filled the sky, interlacing golden radiance. The brilliance of this magic treasure was as magnificent as the blazing sun, carrying an aura of inviolable majesty. It effortlessly shredded the golden streamers draping the Wrathful Mahasattva and wrapped tightly around his bronze-colored skin, sizzling fiercely. "Aaaaooogh..." The magic treasure's golden chains burned scorched black marks into the Wrathful Mahasattva. Imbued with a unique potency, they made the agony exceptionally excruciating, drawing howl after howl of pain from him. "Fellow Daoist... is this what a magic treasure is truly capable of...?" Master Changxi stared blankly, his face burning hot from the sheer might of the magic treasure. Beside him, Xiao Chuting secretly clicked his tongue in amazement. Meanwhile, the Purple Mansion master who had traded barbs with Master Changxi in the Great Void sneered and answered: "Small sects will be small sects; you simply haven't seen the world. "A magic treasure naturally possesses boundless might. This is merely a Golden Bridge Lock. If you were to behold the Immortal Mansion's Sun and Moon Two Polarities Profound Light that once bridged heaven and earth, wouldn't you faint on the spot?" Beside them, Master Tianyuan nodded slightly. Seeing the embarrassment on Master Changxi's face, he stepped in to smooth things over with a smile: "For this journey, Master specifically instructed that the venerable senior of Qingchi attached great importance to this matter and had already laid out a magic treasure. Still, none of us expected the treasure to be this formidable—truly unbelievable." Master Changxi's expression softened considerably. Master Tianyuan then turned back to the other Purple Mansion master, adding agreeable words: "Master Xianyao is widely experienced. I have heard that the Immortal Mansion's magic treasure flows with Taiyang sun essence by day and spouts Taiyin moon essence by night, which naturally cannot be compared to this Golden Bridge Lock." Master Xianyao was somewhat taken aback to hear this, clearly learning of it only now, and was secretly amazed by the magic treasure's wonder. Xiao Chuting nodded gently and remarked, "Perhaps it ought to be called an immortal artifact rather than a magic treasure." While the several Masters pointed and discussed above, the Wrathful Mahasattva below suffered ever greater agony. His deep golden eyes bulged wide. The more pain he felt, the more his fury surged, and his aura rose vigorously, pulling on the Golden Bridge Lock until it groaned and clattered. The assembly of Purple Mansion masters unleashed their divine abilities, hurling them against his golden body. For a time, brilliant radiance of divine abilities and magic power washed across heaven and earth. The earth trembled and the mountains shook, jolting the earth veins of Mount Bianyan and withering its spiritual vitality. "Halt." Just as the Purple Mansions were displaying their divine abilities, a calm voice drifted through the air. Though carrying no fierce edge, it flowed past the ears of every Purple Mansion master, prompting them to halt in silence and look up. "What scoundrel dares obstruct me—" Zhang Tianyuan's expression darkened, but catching sight of the sword-holding figure in the sky, he abruptly stopped and offered an apologetic smile: "Fellow Daoist Shangyuan, this matter was agreed upon by all three sects..." "Mm." Master Shangyuan nodded and said indifferently, "I am well aware. It is simply that by abusing your divine abilities like this, you will ruin this entire mountain range. In the end, you'll dust yourselves off and leave, but this place won't have any spiritual vitality to speak of for three to five centuries." "This..." Master Tianyuan faltered. He truly hadn't considered that. He quickly said: "Perhaps I can offer compensation..." "No need," Master Shangyuan replied softly. Resting a hand on his sword, he said mildly, "I'll simply slay him with a single sword strike." At those words, everyone present froze. Though the Wrathful Mahasattva had reincarnated through possession, lost his karmic destiny, was suppressed by the Golden Bridge Lock, and had been battered to the brink of death by the assembly of Purple Mansions—looking as if he had only one breath left—Shakya cultivators excelled at self-preservation above all else. Slaying him in a single strike was by no means an easy feat. "Please, Fellow Daoist." The smile on Master Tianyuan's face turned a shade more genuine, while he sneered inwardly: 'Arrogant fool.' Master Shangyuan merely gazed at the Wrathful Mahasattva's golden body, remaining silent for several breaths. Catching his breath, the monk glared furiously and spat: "Coward hiding your face, you—" Master Shangyuan looked straight at him. In the Wrathful Mahasattva's dim, yellowed vision, the mist veiling Master Shangyuan's face grew thinner and thinner. The monk's fury came to an abrupt halt, and he stared blankly at the face before him. "It's you..." The Wrathful Mahasattva stared in disbelief, his lantern-sized eyes fixed wide. As his fury vanished, his overwhelming aura collapsed like rushing water. Meanwhile, Master Shangyuan slowly drew his sword. *Clang!* The longsword left its scabbard. Falling leaves froze in place; birds plummeted from the air. Between heaven and earth, only a blinding sheet of bright white remained. ... *Rumble!* Far away in the State of Zhao, within Duanchen Temple, the old abbot was tapping his wooden fish beneath a statue of the Wrathful Vajra when a succession of jarring cracks rang out. The old abbot froze and tremblingly looked up. Cracks spread across the statue of the Wrathful Vajra before him, fracturing starting from the neck until it shattered noisily across the ground in pieces. "The Mahasattva... has fallen..." ... At the Yunmo Stone Wall in the State of Zhao, brownish-yellow winds howled. A line of monks filed past the cliff base. Countless statues of vajras along the cliffside glared with wide, wrathful eyes in myriad poses—some wielding short staves, others astride tigers, leopards, whales, or flood dragons—stretching for a hundred li in a magnificent spectacle. The leading monk held up a torch, illuminating the statues one by one. After wiping them down for a while, he suddenly looked up in confusion. *Crack, crack, crack...* The eyes of the highest Wrathful Vajra shattered with a pop, fine stone dust drifting down to cover the monk's head and face. "How... could this be..." "How is this possible?!" The monks scurried about like headless flies, shoving each other and weeping as though heaven and earth were collapsing. The cracking of stone statues echoed without end, dissolving amidst the chorus of wailing into a field of broken limbs and shattered rock. ... The subterranean caves of the State of Xu. The Beiliang Buddhist Grottoes. ... The Wrathful Four-Demon Kshatriya Aspect, a nine-lifetime Mahasattva, fell at Zhenhui Daoist Temple on Mount Bianyan.