Chapter 137: The Game of Go

Wang Teng sat in his wheelchair, gazing at the place where Qin Qianju had perished, his lips trembling slightly before finally exhaling a feeble sigh.

Though he had little personal connection with Qin Qianju, as a comrade who had fought side by side, the sorrow of a rabbit’s death stirring fear in the fox arose naturally within him.

From the monstrous faction’s side, a bloodthirsty roar of cheers erupted, as if the momentum of two consecutive defeats had been utterly swept away by this clean, decisive victory.

The spectral forms of several demon sages flickered faintly in the air, their cold gazes filled with satisfaction.

After four battles, the human side had won two and lost two.

But Akatsuki Jin was severely wounded, Li Jiuyuan and Qin Qianju were dead—nearly half of their top combatants had been lost!

On the monstrous side, though Zhu Yin was gravely wounded and near death, the losses of Qin Yan Beast and Huodou were relatively acceptable, and Kui Niu had won almost unscathed.

The situation was now extremely unfavorable for the human side.

Every battle to come would be a test of life and death. All waited in silence for the fifth matchup, the air so heavy it seemed ready to drip.

Amid this suffocating tension, a pure, serene aura suddenly spread from the monstrous faction’s side, dispelling some of the bloodlust and savagery.

A flash of light revealed a graceful, snow-white beast resembling a lion-sheep, with a single horn on its head, a long beard beneath its jaw, and a radiance of wisdom and prophecy emanating from its entire form as it stepped calmly onto the Fallen God Platform.

Its steps were unhurried, its gaze gentle, as if it had not come to fight to the death but to attend a refined gathering.

“Bai Ze?!”

A wave of stunned murmurs broke out across the human side.

This Bai Ze was none other than the descendant of the Bai Ze Sage from the earlier struggle over fate’s fortune—no one had expected the monstrous faction would send it to fight!

“Monster race, Bai Ze, challenges.”

Bai Ze’s voice was gentle yet clear, like a flowing spring that calmed restless hearts, yet carried an air of solemn authority.

Its gaze swept across the human side, finally settling on the three sages, and it bowed slightly in greeting.

Ye Qing, Ye Ting, and Lu Wujiu exchanged glances, their eyes filled with gravity and doubt.

What was the meaning of Bai Ze’s challenge?

Its combat strength was not top-tier, yet its wisdom and divine abilities often struck like thunder in silence.

“Bai Ze, Itachi are a beast of auspiciousness—why involve yourself in this bloody slaughter?” Ye Ting spoke gravely, seeking to probe its intent.

Bai Ze shook its head slightly, its voice still calm: “My Lord of War, calamitous qi clings to all; karma cycles endlessly. Even an auspicious being cannot remain untouched.”

“This battle is not for slaughter, but for resolution. I wish to play a game of go with a human sage, using the sky’s wrathful qi as stones and the Fallen God Platform as the board. Does the human race dare accept?”

Using wrathful qi as stones, the platform as the board?!

At these words, both races were stunned.

What a grand move! To turn the formless, intangible battlefield qi—capable of corroding the mind and defiling the spiritual core—into chess pieces for a game?

This was no mere contest of strength, but a profound understanding and manipulation of karma, fate, and even the laws of heaven and earth!

“A game of go?” Lu Wujiu frowned, lightning flickering in his eyes. “What if Itachi lose? What if Itachi win?”

Bai Ze replied calmly: “Each move in this game stirs the wrathful qi. A misstep will allow the qi to invade the mind and spirit—minor errors damage the soul and slash cultivation, while grave ones… plunge the mind into madness, turning one into a mindless killer, or directly assimilate the soul until it dissolves into nothingness. If my side loses, the monstrous front line retreats a thousand li. If your side loses… the same.”

The terms were equal, yet the risk was immense! This was no longer a struggle over territory, but a battle of Dao-heart and intellect!

The human side erupted into heated debate—who should go? Who possessed the courage and wisdom to face Bai Ze, the being who understood all things, in such a perilous game?

“Damn it, this feathered beast is scheming!” Wang Teng muttered from his wheelchair. “If Itachi want to fight, then fight—why play go? Isn’t this clearly exploiting the fact that we might not have anyone skilled enough?”

Jiang Xia’s eyes flickered; his Sharingan observed the swirling wrathful qi, its fury and despair so intense they sent a shiver through even him.

One wrong move in this game meant irreversible ruin.

At that moment, from the rear of the human side, an old man with a slightly hunched back, wearing a faded shirt and holding a tobacco pipe, ambled forward slowly.

He looked utterly ordinary, with barely any spiritual energy radiating from him—like a simple village elder.

Yet when he stepped out from the crowd, the masters of Qingyun Pavilion from the Tianji Pavilion and Zhao Tianji both bowed slightly in greeting.

“Tianji Pavilion—just a wandering hermit, an insignificant patron: Li Mubai.”

The old man exhaled a smoke ring, squinting at Bai Ze atop the platform with a half-smile on his face. “My friend Bai Ze has such refined tastes—this old man would be honored to play a game with Itachi.”

Li Mubai!

Many who heard the name looked confused, but several elder experts and top prodigies flashed expressions of surprise.

Li Mubai was an exceptionally unique patron of the Tianji Pavilion.

His ability was comprehension-based, yet he never cultivated offensive arts; his entire life had been devoted to arrays, divination, the way of go, and obscure studies—his strategic depth was unfathomable, earning him the title “Stabilizing Star of the Tianji Pavilion.”

Yet he had long wandered far and wide or secluded himself, rarely appearing—no one expected him to show up here today.

“So it is Master Mubai,” Bai Ze said, its gentle eyes flickering with solemnity—it clearly recognized him. “Your name is renowned as thunder. To play a game with Itachi is Bai Ze’s honor.”

Li Mubai shuffled onto the platform, standing opposite Bai Ze. He glanced at the swirling crimson wrathful qi, then drew a puff from his pipe and chuckled. “Hmm, so much wrathful qi—wasted if left unused. Perfect for chess pieces.”

He casually tapped his pipe against his shoe, then gently gestured toward the swirling qi in the air.

Something wondrous occurred: the chaotic, violent, all-pervading wrathful qi, under his seemingly casual gesture, became as docile as sheep, gathering before him and coalescing into a fist-sized, dark red chess stone.

This single move, effortless yet masterful, silenced both sides instantly.

A true expert reveals their skill with one action. Li Mubai’s control and understanding of energy had reached the realm of transcendence.

Bai Ze’s eyes brightened with greater admiration; it lifted its forehoof and delicately tapped the air, drawing forth another cluster of wrathful qi that solidified into a crimson chess stone.

“Master Mubai, please,” Bai Ze said.

“Heh, Itachi’re the guest—Itachi go first,” Li Mubai grinned, unceremonious.

Bai Ze did not refuse; its forehoof swept lightly, and the wrathful qi stone drifted forward, settling into the empty air at the center of the platform.

“Click.”

A clear, resonant sound echoed as the stone landed upon the invisible board.

Where the stone settled, a ripple of dark red spread across the void, and the entire platform’s wrathful qi seemed to pulse in rhythm, growing more active, as an invisible pressure began to permeate the air.