Chapter 177: Walking Into One's Own Trap

The Six Realms of Reincarnation were formed by the Hou Tu Ancestor Shaman, who has never involved himself in disputes; this reaction now seems as if he had prepared in advance?

"Everyone, calm down." Di Zang lightly tapped the jade chime with his fingertip, and the Buddhist chant instantly cleansed the room of hostile qi, "The cause and effect of this matter, I, a humble monk, shall personally go to the Netherworld to investigate clearly."

Along the shore of the You Ming Blood Sea, Di Zang's fingertip brushed the torn fragment of a kasaya. This piece, taken from Jin Chan Zi's garment, bore strange shamanic markings, and as his ten fingers passed over it a faint burning sensation of the Ancestor Shaman's sacred blood was felt.

Three days ago, that bizarre raid replayed in his consciousness like a revolving lantern; the Twelve Ancestral Witches Guard precisely intercepted the pilgrimage team, yet only seized the merit treasures without harming lives, which does not match the Wu Clan's usual extermination style.

"The cyclical yin qi of reincarnation is thirty percent heavier than last month," Di Zang suddenly spoke, and the prayer beads in his hand burst forth with seven-treasure glazed light, illuminating the murky dragon shadows swimming in the void.

He noticed that when the words "Six Realms" were mentioned, the torn brocade kasaya of Jin Chan Zi inexplicably oozed black blood.

The monks' clamor instantly froze. The glazed cup beneath the Medicine Buddha's seat rang without wind, and the illusory shadows of twelve-grade golden lotus flickered uncertainly beneath everyone's feet.

Di Zang's pupils narrowed; such a celestial phenomenon had only appeared during the Great Calamity of the sealing of the gods.

"Senior brother, do not speak alarmist words!" Jin Chan Zi suddenly shattered the lotus shadow beneath his feet, and a totem tattoo unique to Pangu Hall appeared on his neck, "The Wu Clan even dares to snatch my personal weapon; clearly they despise the Saint's authority!"

When he raised his arm, the torn edge of his kasaya faintly revealed an old scar from the Xingtian axe mark.

A fragment of the Book of Life and Death in Di Zang's sleeve suddenly trembled, revealing that a bronze colossal gate deep within the Blood Sea was opening.

He suddenly realized that the spot where Jin Chan Zi's team was raided was precisely the coordinate where Hou Tu had once incarnated as reincarnation. The treasures that were taken turned out to be all spirit vessels imbued with the power of cause and effect.

"Immediately deploy the Twelve Causal Array!" Di Zang struck the ground heavily with his tin staff, and the Nine Netherworld Yellow Springs responded with surging karma fire red lotus, "The retrieved treasures may already have become the key to unlocking a certain seal."

Before his words finished, a thunderous roar echoing Gong Gong toppling Mount Buzhou resonated from the depths of the eighteenth layer of Hell.

The disciples of the Medicine Buddha's prayer beads shattered simultaneously in their hands, while Jin Chan Zi revealed a sinister smile.

Only then did Di Zang notice that the inner lining of everyone's kasaya had, at some unknown time, been embroidered with the dark pattern of the Doutian Divine Killing Formation.

The You Ming Blood Sea began to backflow, and the cyclical yin qi of the Six Realms of Reincarnation emitted an ancient pressure that made the capital of the Saint shudder.

Di Zang's complexion gradually became cloaked in frost, and the hidden scheming of Jin Chan Zi was already laid bare in his eyes.

This Buddhist saint had previously been defeated in the Underworld, and now clearly intends to drag his fellow monks into the mire; if he cannot cleanse his failure, let alone establish a foothold on the Spirit Mountain in the future, even merely becoming a laughingstock of the three realms would be enough to ruin his Great Dao path.

With Jin Chan Zi's exquisite mind, how could he be content to wait for death? This time he incites the sect to campaign against the Underworld, ostensibly to uphold the Buddhist dignity, but in fact hides three layers of scheming.

If he can suppress the Wu Clan and retake control of reincarnation, he could defy heaven, alter fate, and acquire boundless merit; even if the battle turns unfavorable and the people suffer setbacks, the mysterious principle that the law does not blame the masses can turn their sins into opportunities; the most vicious part is that, should Di Zang lose his position because of this, the vacant authority…

Beneath the lotus platform bathed in Buddha's light, hidden currents surged, and a few true-lineage disciples' eyes flashed with brilliance. Though they knew Jin Chan Zi's opportunistic strategy, they still pretended indignation, raising their arms and shouting loudly.

But in an instant, thirty-three merit golden lotuses responded in unison, forcing Di Zang into a dilemma with no way out.

"If we forcefully suppress now, we may chill the disciples' hearts toward the Dao," Di Zang's fingertip spun the prayer beads as fast as a meteor, "Yet the Wu Clan has been active lately, and deep within the Hou Tu Palace there must be an earth-shattering plot…"

His gaze swept over the drifting soul-summoning banner in the distance, and suddenly the murky qi of the Netherworld coalesced into the shape of a Nine Netherworld chain, startling his Buddha fire to flicker sharply.

Jin Chan Zi, seizing the moment, shattered the void, and his gilded kasaya rustled in the dark wind: "We, having inherited the Saint's Dao lineage, cannot tolerate petty beings insulting our Buddha's might. Today, with this eight-treasure glazed body, we shall prove our Western Sect to the three realms!"

When the compassionate Buddha's name rang through Fengdu, the eighteen-layer reincarnation vortex suddenly erupted, and faintly twelve ancestral shaman avatars rose from the Blood Sea.

The cold moon was like a blade, and the north wind lifted dead leaves that brushed the robes of the Western Sect's followers.

Jin Chan Zi lowered his head, gazing at the prayer beads in his palm, his voice hoarse as if soaked in Yellow Springs water: "Our fellow monks suffered a treacherous plot; this hatred will not be shared with the heavens."

He suddenly turned to face the pitch-black sky, his kasaya rustling in the dark wind.

A dozen young disciples, eyes reddened, gathered around, and a novice monk clutching a demon-subduing staff choked out: "We will go with senior brother to seek justice."

The crowd instantly swarmed like disturbed bees, the clashing of weapons and angry shouts rising and falling.

Di Zang watched the chaotic scene, his fingertip almost pinching his palm, and he clearly saw the cold smile at the corner of Jin Chan Zi's mouth the instant he turned.

"All step back!" Di Zang's staff struck the ground heavily, shaking the blue stone slab until its spider-web pattern cracked, "When did I ever say I would stand by and do nothing?"

He forced his inner agitation down, and his golden-red kasaya moved on its own without wind.

Yet the disciples still clenched their fists, and beneath their previously gentle gazes surged currents of doubt.

Under the darkened sky, Jin Chan Zi remained bowed and still, like a mud statue coated with moonlight.

When Di Zang finally led everyone onto the Yellow Springs path, the instigator of the disturbance suddenly fell back to the rear of the line, as if he had never spoken.

Deep in the Netherworld, Zhou Yi leaned against the edge of the Reincarnation Well, laughing softly, his fingertip twirling a half piece of turtle shell: "Jin Chan Zi's tactic of borrowing a knife to kill saves us a lot of effort."

Yu Qiang, the Ancestor Shaman, wiped her white-bone battle axe, the cold glint illuminating the doubt between her brows: "How did you predict they would walk into the trap themselves?"

"Human hearts are deeper than the eighteenth layer of Hell." Zhou Yi snapped his fingers, shattering the turtle shell; the broken stones fell into the Reincarnation Well, sparking tiny phosphorescent flames, "Send word to Xingtian, place the prepared 'Generous Gift' on the Bridge of Helplessness."

As he turned, his robe's hem brushed the Three-Life Stone, and its surface vividly reflected an image of Di Zang crushing the red spider lily.

The Underworld's cold wind suddenly grew viscous, and amid the wailing of ten thousand wandering souls, the sharp clatter of weapon clashes intermingled.

Twelve bronze colossal cauldrons ignited one after another along the Yellow Springs road; the boiling within them was neither Meng Po's soup nor the River Forgetting's water, but a certain scarlet liquid specially crafted by the Wu Clan.

Seeing this, the Wu Clan's troops were both excited and grew increasingly admiring of Jiang Ziya, silently sighing that this strategist truly foresaw events like a deity.

"Later the truth will be revealed; everyone just relax and watch the drama," Jiang Ziya lightly waved his feather fan, a profound smile curling his lips.

Di Zang led his fellow monks straight toward the Six Realms of Reincarnation, and upon entering the Netherworld realm, he encountered a strange sight: several ghost officials with bull heads and horse faces were escorting wandering souls toward him.

These grotesque ghost officials were actually transformed by the Wu Clan, merely taking this form for the convenience of their duties.

The leading bull-headed ghost official tilted his neck, glancing sideways at the crowd, and hefted his steel fork: "Who do you think I am, daring to enter the forbidden reincarnation zone with a leopard's gallbladder, only to find a bald monk from the Western heavens? What? Not satisfied with being beaten a few days ago, now you gather fellow monks to fight?"

The Wu Clan man spoke while blowing through his nostrils at the Western Sect crowd, his spit nearly splashing onto Di Zang's face: "Old man, I'm standing here today, just to see whether you soft-footed shrimp who only recite sutras actually have any eggs."