Chapter 167 — Decisive Battle

Abbess Pucheng closed her eyes and joined her palms, murmuring Buddhist incantations low—soft and swift, like song yet not song, like speech yet not speech. The Great Compassion Golden Wheel, slowly turning in midair and shedding ten thousand rays of golden light, descended from above her head and came to rest before Pucheng's face, the Buddha's true form and the dharma aspects of the Arhats together confronting this savage fiend such as the world had not seen since ancient times.

In the golden light, their countenances seemed at once compassionate and wrathful: compassion, to pity all things under heaven; wrath, to subdue demons with fierce slaughter. Who could say which face was the Buddha's true visage?

The low chant of sutras grew from soft to loud, and in an instant resounded through heaven and earth!

Brilliant golden light burst forth, too dazzling for the eye to bear, like a heaven-full of Buddha-flame consuming all things, swallowing every trace of black before it and raising a vast golden orb of light in midair. Such a spectacle was truly rare in this world; all above the sea of clouds were shaken, awed by the matchless power of the Buddha.

Yet even as the crowd stood dumbstruck, that uncanny black—which seemed to have been cowed by the peerless power of the great Buddha—stubbornly flickered forth again from within the golden radiance, and amid all that blazing splendor, like a slender black needle, stabbed into the Great Compassion Golden Wheel.

Upon that supreme Buddhist treasure, the golden wheel, the Buddha's countenance, so compassionate before, was suddenly and strangely crossed by a streak of black. Almost at the same instant, the solemn chanting that filled the heavens stopped short, and the clamorous world fell into an eerie stillness.

Every eye turned at once to the two figures within that golden light.

Across Abbess Pucheng's face flashed a look of pain, while that thread of black vapor, as though newborn, swiftly swelled from a fine filament, gradually taking shape, and revealed the figure of the Beast Lord.

The black vapor rose steadily higher, and the righteous-path cultivators all changed color. Seen from afar, the Beast Lord's face still showed no expression; even his eyes remained cold. Now upon the golden wheel, upon the Buddha's holy image, that uncanny black began to appear, growing ever heavier, and the image's countenance, once compassionate and serene, turned savage, ever more hideous.

Abbess Pucheng's face changed drastically. Her expression darkened; with a low cry, her monk's robes billowed though no wind blew, and her form seemed in an instant to swell, as though goaded. The golden light that filled the sky abruptly wheeled about with a shrill hiss, rushing swiftly back before Pucheng and swiftly condensing into a golden orb the size of a palm, golden rays darting within it, almost like the sun in the heavens; even from far off one could feel the surging Buddha-power within.

Once more the solemn sound of chanting rose in the sky.

The golden orb flashed with dazzling radiance and slowly advanced; under the urging of such solemn and majestic Buddhist power, the black vapor upon the Buddha's countenance on the Great Compassion Golden Wheel gradually faded and began to return to normal. And the Beast Lord seemed to sense something too; his expression shifted slightly.

Then the golden orb at last touched the Great Compassion Golden Wheel—and of a sudden the golden light drew inward, and the whole treasure wheel seemed to turn transparent, as though a rosy dawn had at last burst forth; the Buddha-power, flowing like liquid, gushed out from within it like a long-banked volcano, glittering with countless golden sutras of the Buddhas.

In an instant the whole sky became a golden ocean; golden rays surged to fill the heavens and blanket the earth, and no other color could be seen. In such a resplendent sea of light, it seemed no demon or fiend could possibly survive.

Except—that one faintly glimpsed finger!

In the world swallowed by boundless Buddha-light, deep within the golden radiance, there was still a wisp of black vapor, fine as smoke and dust, drifting lightly upward, flickering in and out of sight, now there and now not, spiraling to the front of the Great Compassion Golden Wheel, and gently, upon the Buddha's countenance, between the brows of that kindly, compassionate face, it touched down.

That single touch was as a grain in the vast ocean, as a mustard seed within Mount Sumeru—so utterly insignificant beside the Buddha-light that filled the sky. Yet Abbess Pucheng's face drained in an instant, her whole countenance turning ashen, like dead embers.

And so all saw that amid the splendor, heaven and earth suddenly quaked, the Buddha-light shuddered, and that monk who looked almost like an immortal spat out a great mouthful of blood with a retching cry, dyeing the treasure wheel before her crimson.

The wild wind quietly died away; the chaotic world grew still, and the golden light gently scattered in wavering drifts. Abbess Pucheng's lips trembled slightly, her body seemed to stagger, and she drew back; behind her Facheng and the others had already rushed up to support her.

Master Pucheng gave a faint, bitter smile, joined his palms toward the void ahead, and said, "Your magic power is formidable, benefactor—truly the greatest I have seen in all my years. I am in awe, in awe!"

On Jietian Peak of Canglan Mountain, countless disciples of the righteous path erupted in an uproar.

In midair, the golden light receded and black vapor was reborn, leaping forth as if from the void itself. With a shrill howl, that enormous demonic beast appeared once more—hard to fathom how a body so huge could have vanished from sight entirely during such a fierce exchange of magic, and now stood reborn, alive and whole.

And atop its head, the figure whom every righteous cultivator under heaven now watched with sidelong shock grew ever paler, and for the first time a trace of weariness showed faintly on that cold face; only his eyes remained as chill and unreadable as ever. Yet when his gaze fell upon Master Pucheng, he did stir, very slightly, and gave a cold snort.

"The cultivation arts of the Central Plains are indeed not without their merits."

Master Pucheng shook his head slightly. He had meant to offer a few words of persuasion, but seeing the other's expression, he knew it would be useless, and so withdrew, supported by Facheng and the others.

Of the three great leaders of the righteous path, two had now already come off the worse at the hands of this mysterious and uncanny demon. For a time, every face on Jietian Peak had changed color. Among the beast-demons, meanwhile, ten thousand throats roared as one, their ferocity and momentum surging high.

It was then that a roar burst skyward from behind the crowd. Beneath the Yuheng Hall on Jietian Peak, in the waters of the Cold Ice Pool, a great whirlpool suddenly appeared, the water spinning faster and faster, and that roar—like a dragon's cry and a tiger's howl at once—grew louder and louder, until it forcibly drowned out the voices of the countless beast-demons before it.

Then the waters of the Cold Ice Pool surged upward with a thunderous roar, a column of water shooting straight into the sky to a height of tens of zhang, where it gathered and held, blooming like a wild flower—and from it emerged the vast form of the Water Qilin, the Spirit Venerable, guardian beast of Canglan Mountain.

The Qingyun disciples on Jietian Peak were first stunned, then wild with joy, shouting aloud, their spirits soaring. Beneath the gaze of ten thousand eyes, the Water Qilin raised its head and gave a long cry to the blue heavens, then tossed its head and waved its tail, flew forward from the water column, and descended from the clouds.