"One arrow."
Li Xuanfeng stood suspended in midair, clad in grim white armor, the patterns across his face glowing brightly. His long brows were relaxed, and his chiseled face was bathed in flowing white astral qi as his eyes gazed quietly ahead.
A flurry of flower petals drifted down from the sky behind him, the portentous anomaly of a Shakya Master’s demise. Li Xuanfeng's single arrow had bleached the sky pale white; the Master had been blasted into oblivion on the spot, denied even the chance of reincarnation.
The onlookers stared blankly. Silence fell over both the northern and southern banks of the river, broken only by the faint, muffled thunder of waves beating against the stone banks and the rumbling flow of the river. Innumerable gazes converged on that single spot.
"Killed by a single arrow."
Many Embryonic Breathing and Qi Refinement cultivators had no idea what had truly transpired; seeing only that someone on the Shakya side had fallen, the south broke out into joyous celebration, while the north fell silent or ground their teeth, cursing the fiend under their breath.
Yet the Foundation Establishment cultivators fell dead silent.
Everyone present was a figure of renown across the north and south. Through this grand war between the two realms, most had broadened their horizons, and instances of killing a Foundation Establishment cultivator in a single blow were not unheard of.
Several illustrious figures in the northern-southern conflict—Tuoba Chongyuan, Tang Shedu, Lingu Rao, and even several members of the Murong family—could dispatch an ordinary early Foundation Establishment cultivator in less than a single exchange. Li Xuanfeng himself had made his name by slaying Murong Wu in half a quarter of an hour.
Although the twelve Masters varied in strength and were not all of equal cultivation, slaying a Master with a single arrow—especially an orthodox cultivator of the Kongwu Path—was an entirely different matter.
The most vexing aspect of the Master’s path was their technique of reincarnation. Unless their body and soul were utterly annihilated in a single instant, their myriad contingencies would inevitably allow them to be reborn through the flesh of their devotees. Shattering one of them into complete oblivion with just one arrow was so staggering that the same thoughts simultaneously rose in everyone's minds:
*Did that incantation activate some special Purple Mansion talisman affixed to the arrow?*
*Is this man truly Li Xuanfeng? Or has he unleashed some demonic entity?*
The destruction of the tower-bearing Master's body and soul was far more than just a single casualty. The Huixu Demon-Subduing Grand Array collapsed with a deafening roar, and any opportunity to manifest the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl evaporated entirely. The remaining eleven Masters paled, staring at the sky full of rain-like petals in shock and grief.
"Xumo has returned to the Shakya Land..."
Suspicion and dread flared at once. The remaining eleven Masters were plagued by doubts as well. It was as though the entire north and south banks had been pinned under some immense weight for a moment, and not a single soul moved—save for the white-armored man, whose fingers drew his bowstring once more.
*Hum!*
The white bow was instantly pulled into a full moon. The eleven felt as though sharp blades were pressed against their backs, and cold sweat broke out across their bodies in unison. Their hands twitched, but before any of them could even form a hand seal to cast a spell, an exotic fragrance already washed over them.
The sky brightened again.
"Too fast!"
The Master who had wielded the ring—his magical artifact previously shattered by Li Xuanfeng—was still deathly pale when his body abruptly stiffened. Another shower of petals drifted from the heavens, interspersed with beads of nectar resembling jade pearls and bathed in auspicious celestial radiance. A chill gripped everyone's heart.
"Another arrow!"
Of the eleven Masters in the sky, only ten remained. Their minds were wiped clean of all thoughts, leaving behind a single word:
*Flee!*
Even faster than them were the cultivators of the northern side. The moment that bowstring had hummed, the demonic clouds to the north melted away like lingering snow under a blazing sun. Countless escape lights flared to life, filling the heavens with a dense tapestry of colors as everyone bolted northward.
*Whoosh...*
The cultivators along the entire northern bank routed in unison. All manner of magical artifacts shot into the sky as they scrambled toward the north, and the Foundation Establishment cultivators vanished within a single breath. The Embryonic Breathing and Qi Refinement cultivators and monks below collapsed into utter chaos, tumbling and colliding into one another in disordered disarray.
The northern factions were already a patchwork alliance to begin with. Such a rout was like a burst dam, sweeping a thousand li in an instant. A few greedy souls even took advantage of the pandemonium to attack one another, bloodlight flashing across the sky amid chaotic shrieks:
"Move! Quickly!"
"Go to Mount Bianyan... The grand array at Mount Bianyan has been breached..."
The northern bank, long shrouded in demonic smoke, was finally cleared, leaving behind only blood and gore. Even the corpses of the fallen were stripped and salvaged to make the most of their remains, leaving nothing behind but stains of red and black.
Though the northern cultivators had fled, the ten Masters in the sky did not move an inch. All of them stared stiffly. Not only those ten, but even the Masters who had arrived later were frozen where they stood, unable to budge.
The joy on Si Yuanli's face froze. He looked toward the horizon, where a sheet of polychromatic light was gradually emerging. Brilliant and majestic, it hung at the far reaches of the sky like an eye, gazing coldly downward.
"That Maha... is watching with his own eyes!"
With his deep family heritage, Si Yuanli recognized it at a glance. He abruptly lowered his head, his heart trembling in slight panic, and he instantly understood why the Masters had not fled:
*It is not that they cannot, but that they dare not...*
In the Shakya Path of the Seven Aspects, a difference of a single realm was enough to crush someone to death. From head to toe, and even their very karmic mandate, these Masters were entirely in the grasp of this Maha; nothing was in their own hands, so how could they flee?
A suffocating pressure resonated for an instant. The people on the southern bank gradually realized that something was amiss. They saw the colored light in the sky resonate with the ground; answering a summons within the Great Void, a speck of radiance appeared.
This radiance tore through the void and transmuted into a purplish-black hue. It expanded rapidly in midair, revealing a purple alms bowl bound by two black rims. It bore no incantations or talismans, and its gaping mouth was alarmingly pitch-black.
"The true body of the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl!"
As this Shakya artifact gradually manifested, the oldest-looking Master at the forefront pressed his palms together and murmured, "For this demon to be so vicious as to dispatch our junior brother... Everyone, the mortal realm is empty and void. The time has come for us to subdue the demon with our bodies and return to the Shakya Land!"
His expression was calm and his words flowed smoothly, showing that his cultivation was truly consummate. Yet among the remaining nine, six lowered their eyes, faintly betraying looks of dread and terror.
Yet no matter how terrified they were, even if they would be blasted into ash the next second, the cultivators did not hesitate in the slightest. They formed hand seals in unison, abandoning all thoughts of flight.
The Maha had not intervened; merely by watching, he had stripped these Masters of the right to flee. Even the Masters on either side who did not belong to the same lineage lost their freedom in that instant, standing dumbly in place.
Refusing to dodge or retreat, the ten activated their Suxikong aspect. Polychromatic light blazed around their dharma bodies as they channeled numerous artifacts, closing in together upon the white-armored man in midair.
"Senior Brother! Since there is no chance of escape... this opportunity must at least fall into our own hands!"
Several murmurs floated into the lead Master's ears. His smooth face sank slightly, understanding full well what his junior brothers meant.
By forcing back the northern forces, the karma Li Xuanfeng bore had grown increasingly terrifying, and each of the twelve he killed only tangled that karma further.
Even if only one or two survived out of the ten, as long as they managed to kill Li Xuanfeng, boundless karmic rewards would instantly flow into them. With fewer people left to share the spoils... one might immediately attain the rank of Lianmin, securing an immeasurable future!
Knowing they could not retreat, the ten resolved to fight to the death. Steeling themselves, they surged forward together, rapidly closing the distance.
They certainly knew that Li Xuanfeng was formidable in close-quarters combat, but no matter how strong he was up close, how could it compare to the bow in his hands?
Trading spells from afar would only lead to being picked off one by one. Gritting their teeth against the crushing pressure, they roared in unison, "Demon, face your death!"
*Hum...*
Li Xuanfeng’s gaze merely swept across the horizon. Though he had not read as many ancient texts as Si Yuanli, he had seen a Maha with his own eyes before. The white bow in his hands drew back into a full moon once again.
*Pfft!*
Before the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl could fully materialize, a flurry of petals scattered through the sky once more. The remaining nine Shakya cultivators did not even turn to look as they charged right in front of him. Their faces, shifting between male and female, were clearly visible, gold dust scattering from their skin, their teeth gleaming bright gold, their brows furrowed in wrathful glares.
The face charging head-on bore a savage look, eyes protruding slightly, brow bones sharply pronounced, muscles bulging with baleful aura—the very picture of a wrathful vajra.
Li Xuanfeng's gaze was cold and hard. His iron gaze saw straight through it, piercing through the arrogance and dread hidden beneath that facade. In a slightly raspy voice, he said:
"Fierce in appearance, cowardly at heart!"
He simply opened his five fingers. Grim white qi instantly coalesced in his palm, and he threw a punch straight into the golden face before him. Three shades of white qi shifted into the shapes of tigers and leopards following his movement, slamming directly into the foe.
*Boom!*
The Master's head burst open with a bang, sending countless sparks of light flying, which were instantly extinguished by the metal qi in midair before they could reconverge. The headless corpse could only stumble back in disarray. The man's gaze was like cold iron as his other hand swept violently forward.
*Clang!*
One of his hands locked onto the throat of a neighboring Master. The gold-dusted monk frantically pulled at his arm with all six hands like an unseemly octopus. Li Xuanfeng's voice was frigid:
"Always putting on a wrathful guise to terrorize the common folk..."
Along with his words, his large hand clamped shut. The monk's neck burst into pieces, and three types of deep white metal qi soared upward, kicking the head away like a ball.
"Monster!"
Yet the spells of the Shakya cultivators had already arrived. Innumerable golden chains drifted down from the sky, interlocking to bind his surroundings, striking bright sparks across his grim white cuirass.
*Clang...*
The Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl in the sky materialized, hanging in midair like a colossal mountain. Numerous Shakya cultivators were rushing over from the distance, and the winds supporting the aerial cultivators dissipated, sending them tumbling toward the ground one after another.
Only Li Xuanfeng, bolstered by the Huaijiang Map, remained standing in midair.
This Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl was completely different from before; it had transformed to the size of a mountain peak, meant not to block his arrows, but to prevent him from escaping.
*Clank!*
Layers of gold flowed beneath the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl. Spears, halberds, axes, and staves converged simultaneously from the air, piercing Li Xuanfeng's chest with a resounding clang. He remained immovable as a mountain, slowly raising his head, his gaze whipping up a gust of astral qi.
These four assailants each had blinking eyes across their chests and intricate, ornate patterns over their bodies. Ribbons were tied around their waists, their robes were lavish and glittering with gold lacquer. Li Xuanfeng parried these weapons with one hand while sweeping his white bow with the other, unleashing a brilliance that resembled countless sword rays.
*Clang!*
The brilliance collided with the magical artifacts, producing a cacophony of clashing metal. The expressions of several Masters shifted drastically as they saw the man engulfed in grim white qi, yet he still freed a hand to seize one Master's arm.
"Building grand pillars and massive beams, burning wood and pouring oil, plundering golden silks to cloak your golden statues..."
His hand tore at the Master's muscular arm, crushing it to powder. He stepped past with cold eyes, hooking the bowstring in the same motion. Three white beams coalesced upon the string, resonating sharply.
Three Masters casting spells in the distance instantly coughed up golden blood, their heads, chests, and bellies exploding simultaneously. Li Xuanfeng tore free from the golden shackles binding him, his two hands bracing against the massive palms of two Shakya cultivators lunging toward him.
"How dare you act so insolently!"
Several more Masters flew in from both sides, their expressions stiff and bitter. Their words were beyond their own control, shouting with righteous indignation in deep voices:
"Monster! You have slaughtered without count, serving as a hound of the demonic sect! Even if we must return our bodies to the Dharma Realm, we shall subdue you, fiend!"
Li Xuanfeng held down their two dharma bodies firmly, listening to the gradual cracking sounds. Before his eyes rose the ruined walls of Zhenhui Daoist Temple on Mount Bianyan. His voice was bone-chilling:
"The Pure World is not pure, the Void is not void, and your compassion is devoid of mercy... With a thousand li of temple serfs, you aggressively preach against 'evils and monsters'; behind hundred-zhang golden statues, you boastingly lecture on the vulgarities of the mortal realm..."
His words echoed like thunder through the sky, drawing startled looks from north and south alike. Many Masters and monks lowered their eyes, while the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl in the sky seemed enraged, emitting a deafening chime.
*Dong!*
The sound reverberated beneath their feet, rolling across the north and south, echoing deep into the thick demonic smoke. Shaken by the reverberations of the bowl, Si Yuanli was forced to ride the wind down to the riverbank. The situation had once again exceeded his estimations. He looked up, his expression somewhat somber.
"The Maha should not be able to intervene directly. This artifact can only be considered summoned by the Masters, which is why it can only exert oppressive pressure..."
*Dong!*
In the distance, Masters raised their heads one after another, looking at the object in the sky as if they had seen a ghost. Exchanging glances, they turned and fled in the opposite direction in unison.
"A disaster has struck! If we fly toward that place, we will surely become the blade of some Maha!"
...
"Hahahahaha!"
Beneath the Kongxi Demon-Subduing Bowl, white radiance blazed. The white armor on Li Xuanfeng was battered, and the patterns across his face were fractured, yet this only made him appear more real—no longer resembling an immortal general, but Li Xuanfeng himself.
The white bow in his hand was suppressed by the bowl in the sky, its luster slightly dimmed.
Before him, the remaining eight Shakya cultivators were mangled and broken, missing arms or heads. Their light flickered erratically as they stood quietly before him, resembling a cluster of shattered statues in a collapsed temple, taking on an eerie, ghastly quality.
Catching their breath slightly, the Shakya cultivators exchanged glances, their voices dropping low:
"He is not consistently that formidable!"
Yet even as they said this, they remained at a standstill, watching the man step on half of a severed dharma body. Of the nine Masters of the Kongwu Path and the six who had subsequently joined, only the eight of them remained...
The twelve Masters of the Kongwu Path possessed varying levels of strength, which had been hidden while forming the grand array. But after this brutal clash, only the five most powerful among them had survived.
"What a demon... what monstrous might..."
Half of a golden spear remained thrust into the demon's chest, gleaming amid the white cuirass. The spear’s butt quivered slightly with his breath. Those sharp eyes looked over as he exhaled softly.
The battered dharma body beneath Li Xuanfeng's feet slowly crawled in midair, its severed head dangling above. Li Xuanfeng raised his brows and met the increasingly feverish, greedy gazes of the eight Masters:
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
"Killing him earns the rank of Lianmin!"
Li Xuanfeng met their gazes in silence. He crushed the fleeing lower half of the dharma body beneath his foot, scooped up the two heads with their compassionate visages, and hoisted them high. Seeing the terror in their pupils, laughter rumbled from his throat:
"I am no paragon of virtue either. But it is only fitting that two evils slaughter each other... leaving everything clean and clear!"
Chapter 611