Chapter 184: Clearly Visible

Fortunately, the experience of the previous session could still be referenced; after tireless day‑and‑night preparations, this unprecedented Tianjiao grand event finally opened as scheduled.

The Tianjiao grand event achieved a historic breakthrough, and after multiple rounds of selection, over five million cultivators earned qualification for the main competition.

Compared with the inaugural contest, this year's participant scale grew fivefold, indicating the vigorous development of the Human Race's new generation.

All who advanced have reached the third cut of the Immortal realm, which in the Honghuang system signifies five million true‑immortal‑level combat power.

Although still insignificant in the eyes of the Wu and Demon races, for the Human Race these potential seeds bear the hope of a civilizational leap.

From among them will surely emerge leaders of the Golden Immortal realm, towering jade pillars of the Great Luo realm, and perhaps even the pinnacle of Quasi Saint level.

After the selection ended, the competition swiftly entered a feverish stage. Tens of thousands of arenas displayed profound Dao techniques, and the spectators' enthusiasm lifted the Human Race's fortunes to a new peak.

Zhou Yi watched the spirited young cultivators in the arena, a look of satisfied ripples in his eyes, exactly the spark of civilization he had hoped to see.

While the whole clan immersed in this cultivation festival, the disciples of Ling Mountain fell into a dilemma in the Netherworld. Since the last failure, Jieyin Zhunti sect members have become increasingly cautious in their schemes concerning the Six Realms of Reincarnation.

These Buddhist cultivators spent several years deducing heavenly mechanisms, yet never found a method that conforms to the Heavenly Dao's rules.

The venerable Ksitigarbha, famed for his wisdom, had over a hundred draft plans piled on his desk. Each scheme, after repeated scrutiny, was ultimately abandoned out of fear of the Wu clan's countermeasures.

The disciples all understood that this opponent was extraordinary; any minor flaw would result in a wasted effort.

To ensure safety, the Western Sect has spent thirty years monitoring the cycles of reincarnation, recording millions of soul‑rebirth energy fluctuations.

One dusk during an observation day, a trace of Netherworld aura suddenly breached their barrier.

The unexpected visitor instantly gave the long‑tormented Buddhist cultivators an outlet for their emotions.

"What foul spirit dares to spy on the Saint's Dao lineage!" several Golden Immortal realm disciples immediately formed a demon‑subduing formation, their dense Buddhist light turning into twelve layers of seals that enveloped the void.

Yet the black shadow slipped through the rule fissures like a flash of light; all their divine abilities failed, leaving only uneven swastika scorch marks on the Netherworld soil.

The lingering silhouette swept by, and several Western Sect cultivators fell to the ground. Fine dust rose from the blue stone slab, and moonlight solidified into a cold glint at the blade's tip.

"What audacity!" Ksitigarbha shattered the blue bricks and leapt into the air; twelve golden wheels behind him buzzed and trembled. His broad monk robe billowed like a sail, perfectly cutting off the black shadow's retreat.

The mysterious figure calmly lingered on an ancient cypress branch, his black robe moving without wind: "Even such ragtag troops dare to touch the Reincarnation platform? If only three‑percent effort had been used…" withered leaves cracked into powder at his words, "Now you should collect their corpses."

Ksitigarbha's knuckles beneath his kasaya whitened, his face still compassionate: "Since the devotee knows the secret of my sect, why not reveal your true form?"

"Just an enemy of an enemy," a cold laugh rang from the black robe like metal striking stone, "Did you truly think the Wu clan brutes could weave a heavenly net? Behind them stands a presence that even the Listening Beast cannot scent."

The young bodhisattva's sandalwood prayer beads suddenly snapped, the crystal beads striking the ground with a crisp, icy sound. He stepped on the rolling beads and chuckled, "Since you come as a lobbyist, you ought to bring some sincerity."

"Sincerity?" the black shadow flicked a half‑broken arrow from his sleeve, the tip still glowing with an otherworldly blue phosphor, "Last night the desks of the ten Yama courts displayed lists of your planted spies."

Ksitigarbha finally changed expression; the Buddhist beads on his wrist turned into a vajra chain that sliced through the air, but upon striking the black robe they pierced only a hollow shadow—merely condensed black mist.

"Three days later at the hour of the Rat, at the Bridge of Helplessness," the lingering voice floated among pine waves, "bring your swastika golden seal, or be ready to collect corpses for the eighteenth layer of Hell."

In the depths of the You Ming Blood Sea, three of Ksitigarbha's prayer beads suddenly shattered.

The black‑robed figure emerging from the shadows let out a sandpaper‑grating laugh: "You cannot find the mastermind behind the Wu clan because he long ago left the Underworld."

"Who exactly is manipulating the Wu clan?" Ksitigarbha's kasaya moved without wind, golden lotuses beneath his feet cracking. He cared not for the shadow's identity, only for the mysterious presence that could make the Twelve Ancestral Witches obey.

From the black shadow's sleeve slithered a three‑headed underworld serpent, hissing, "What benefit do you gain from telling us?"

The serpent's six eyes reflected Ksitigarbha's increasingly distorted face.

"You appear deliberately, indicating that person is also your mortal enemy," Ksitigarbha's palm sweated cold; he noted that when the shadow mentioned "cooperation," all the flowers on the other side of the Yellow Springs turned west.

The black robe suddenly exploded into ten thousand blood bats, forming a ferocious totem on the rock wall: "I want you to dispatch three Quasi Saints; once the deed is done, his head belongs to me."

The vajra demon‑subduing staff hidden in Ksitigarbha's sleeve warmed slightly. He suppressed his emotions: "The force behind the Wu clan is no more than Great Luo Golden Immortal level…"

Before he could finish, the shadow‑shaped bats swooped toward the rock wall, clawing a chilling image that made Ksitigarbha's hair stand on end; under the Taiyi bell's shadow, a Human Race princess lifted the shattered thirty‑three heavens with one hand.

"Impossible!" the scripture scroll in Ksitigarbha's hand fell, crushing two fiery red lotuses. He clearly saw the totem on the wall transform, the Twelve Ancestral Witches performing the Wu clan's highest rite before the Human Race princess.

The black shadow's laugh echoed in the cavern: "Three days from now at this hour, bring Quasi Saints here to swear an oath to the Heavenly Dao, or else…"

Before the words finished, the blood‑bat swarm turned into six blood‑stained Sanskrit characters, the reverse of the six‑word mantra personally transmitted by Jieyin Saint.

Deep in the Underworld, a pale blue soul‑fire illuminated Ksitigarbha's bewildered face. The figure wrapped in black mist still hovered mid‑air, its voice rasping like sandpaper: "The movements of the Twelve Ancestral Witches' hall are all controlled by that Human Race leader."

"Absurd!" a prayer bead in Ksitigarbha's hand snapped, shards of seven‑treasure crystal scattering on the Yellow Springs stone, "Chi You was defeated only a thousand years ago; how does the Human Race possess such Tongtian methods?" His kasaya moved without wind, and eight celestial dragons materialized as shadows behind him.

The black shadow let out a metallic scraping laugh: "When Mount Buzhou collapsed, Hou Tu Mother transformed into the cycle of reincarnation; did you think the Wu clan alone could suppress the Nine‑dark Nether Qi? If not for that one who left a Human Race destiny seal on the Book of Life and Death…"

Before the words ended, a thunderous sound of breaking chains echoed from the depths of the eighteenth layer of Hell.

The Ksitigarbha's pupils suddenly contracted. He recalled thirty years ago patrolling the Animal Path, when those Wu clan shadow soldiers, who should have been chaotic, marched in perfect unison toward the mortal realm for a sacrificial rite. At the time it seemed merely Hou Tu Mother's manifestation of divinity; now, in hindsight…

"The day the Taiyi bell rang throughout the Heavenly Court, why did you think the Demon Race suddenly withdrew its troops?" the black shadow's surrounding mist churned violently, a half‑visible face covered in Wu clan tattoos emerging, "That one who stood opposite Taiyi at the Return Ruins for three days forced the Great Calamity to be postponed a full Jiazi!"

The reincarnation well suddenly spewed multicolored sunrise light, making the cold sweat on Ksitigarbha's forehead clearly visible.