Chapter 190: Stirring Restlessly

What made Zhou Yi feel slightly surprised was that the two of them had already broken through the Quasi Saint barrier.

It must be known that the Western Sect's terrestrial spirit veins are dried up and heavenly materials are scarce; even though Jieyin and Zhunti, the two Saints, painstakingly cultivated them, the disciples' foundations remain merely passable.

The two before us must have exhausted countless Saintly efforts just to barely join the ranks of Quasi Saints.

Compared with the Ming He Ancestor, who commands the very source of the Sea of Blood, or the Great Peng Bird, a primordial spirit, the Medicine Master Mi Le, though also a Quasi Saint, is worlds apart in depth.

Zhou Yi thought privately that if a fight truly broke out, he alone could suppress the opponent. Yet the Western Sect is dwindling; aside from the Saints' direct teachings, this is already the strongest force they can field.

"Brothers of the Dao, you come here, I fear you'll return empty‑handed," Zhou Yi said, standing with his arms crossed, his voice bearing seven parts certainty.

A month ago, in Human Race territory, he faced two opponents alone, forcing Ming He and the Great Peng Bird to retreat in disgrace; now, standing in the wasteland without restraint, even the two Western Saints' arrival might not detain him.

Mi Le still wore his trademark smile: "Fellow Daoist, to ascend the ultimate peak in a Human body is truly rare through the ages. However…"

Before his words finished, a golden‑patterned Zen staff materialized in his palm, and Buddhist chants reverberated as Buddha light bathed all.

The Medicine Master, in tacit understanding, revealed a seven‑section green bamboo; the sections clashed, emitting a clear Daoist tone that churned the spiritual energy within a hundred‑mile radius into endless surges.

"Empower the divine pestle, the six‑sense‑purifying bamboo," Zhou Yi's pupils narrowed slightly.

These two supreme treasures are extraordinary; they are the proof‑of‑path artifacts of Saint Zhunti, and now they are handed to a disciple for use.

As the bamboo staffs resonated, a faint Saintly Dao tone drifted down from the Nine Heavens, indicating that although the two Saints were not present, they had already embedded part of their power into the artifacts.

The power of Honghuang's supreme treasures far exceeds mortal imagination. At this moment, the two present holy artifacts can make ordinary Quasi Saints pale.

That gilt pestle is the Western Sect's sect‑guardian sacred object, its body inscribed with Sanskrit characters of the Heavenly Dao. Not even a Great Luo Golden Immortal can withstand it, and even a Quasi Saint powerhouse would need a millennium of cultivation to resist its slightest touch.

During the Sealing of the Gods calamity, the Daoist Zhunti once used this item to subdue the Five‑Colored Peacock, causing it to reveal its true form and willingly become a mount.

Even more astonishing, when the four Saints united before the Extermination of Immortals formation, this pestle managed to strike down the Tongtian Jiaozhu's mount, the Kui Bull; though it was amid chaos, it still displayed its saint‑breaking might.

The other, the Six‑Awareness Bamboo Staff, has an even more shocking origin. It was originally a primordial bitter bamboo from Chaos's Beginning, refined by a Saint into an independent Dao.

Anyone ordinary who wields this treasure loses all five senses, their divine consciousness plunges into the boundless void; even the power to move mountains and fill seas becomes like a blind man walking at night.

With the empowerment of these two treasures, Mi Le and the Medicine Master radiate Buddhist light like the sun, and their aura subtly surpasses that of the Great Peng Bird who once roamed the Northern Netherworld.

When the Sea of Blood's lord Ming He Ancestor appeared bearing the Yuan Tu Abi, this killing contest finally revealed its grandeur.

The three peak Quasi Saints, together with the two primordial spiritual treasures, form a formation that can be called the strongest killing force beneath the Heavenly Dao. Since the Great Peng Bird and Ming He have been scheming since their last setback, this strike now shows no mercy.

Yu Qiang, the ancestral shaman, sensed the celestial upheaval; his ten‑thousand‑foot true form shattered the void as he arrived. Seeing the three great Quasi Saints' pressure like an abyss, she angrily shouted, "How dare you deceive my esteemed Wu Clan guest, now behold the Twelve Capital Heavenly Demon Formation…"

"Hold on!" Zhou Yi raised his hand to block Yu Qiang's technique, "Quickly command your clan to guard the Six Realms of Reincarnation; the cause and effect here are beyond your reach."

His gaze swept across the firmament, as if piercing the thirty‑three layers beyond the heavens.

Since the Great Peng Bird and his companions dared to appear, they must have prepared measures against the ancestral shaman. Rather than let the Wu Clan be drawn into the killing calamity, it is better to settle this cause and effect alone.

The many ancestral shamans, far a thousand li away, would still need time even if they rushed at full speed.

Zhou Yi calculated silently that by the time reinforcements arrived, the battle would already be settled, making this rush futile.

Rather than this, it would be better to have Yu Qiang guard the Six Realms of Reincarnation; after all, the Great Peng Bird and the Western Sect have hidden currents, and if the world's pivot falters, even a victorious battle would be of no help.

Yu Qiang's finger joints whitened as she gripped the bone staff; how could a Quasi Saint not perceive the peril? Jieyin and Zhunti's two great masters arrived bearing heavy treasures, and Ming He, the Sea of Blood's lord, stared hungrily.

Even if she stayed to assist, it would be but a drop in the bucket; yet the thought of abandoning comrades to guard the Netherworld alone, the Wu Clan warriors' pride kept her from moving.

After three days and nights of maneuvering, Zhou Yi finally persuaded Yu Qiang with the principle that the Wu Clan's survival outweighs individual life and death.

When the shadow troops' banners sank into the Yellow Springs vortex, Ming He curled a cold smile at the corner of his mouth.

He was eager for this hot‑potato to exit on its own; if it truly harmed the Wu Clan's ancestral shaman, the fury of the twelve demon gods, nurtured by Pangu's essence, would cause even the Sea of Blood to evaporate thirty percent.

The instant the Netherworld barrier sealed, three Quasi Saint pressures pressed like a tilting Mount Tai. Beneath Ming He, the blazing red lotus of karmic fire inhaled and exhaled flames, its scarlet robe moving without wind: "Mere humans can force this seat to join forces with Saint disciples; you may now close your eyes."

Amid the roiling Sea of Blood, he always recalled the last encounter, when that world‑shaking sword intent nearly severed the twin Yuan Tu Abi blades.

The Western camp suddenly emitted a Buddhist chant, and the golden threads on Mi Le's kasaya trembled with his laughter: "Do you know the greatest opportunity in the Buddha's path? If you wish to be reborn in the Pure Land, you can still become a Buddha right here on the spot."

The plump venerable squinted, examining the treasure in Zhou Yi's hand that swirled with violet qi, while his human‑type pouch silently unfurled a strand.

"Oh? I wonder what attainment you wish to grant me?" Zhou Yi lightly flicked the edge of his Xuanyuan sword, its sound like a dragon's roar echoing through the nine abysses.

His peripheral glance fell on Ming He's greedy expression, silently thinking that this demon must have glimpsed the saint‑making potential hidden in the Hongmeng violet qi, yet unaware that that strand of violet qi had already merged with the Kongtong seal.

Ming He, the sect leader, furrowed his brows, his gaze slicing toward Mi Le like a blade; the karmic fire red lotus in his hand ignited without wind. According to the secret Blood Sea plan three days ago, this moment should have been the chance to seize the Hongmeng violet qi, yet the Western Sect suddenly threw up a complication.

Mi Le pressed his palms together, smiling without words, while behind him a golden wheel turned, projecting the phantom images of eight hundred arhats.

He never failed to understand Ming He's thoughts; it is simply that Jieyin the Saint had long issued a decree.

If they could capture the Human Race's co‑ruler, not only would the merit of the Six Realms of Reincarnation be within reach, but they would also grasp the vital point of the Heavenly Dao's great rise. With this in mind, the golden cymbal in his hand quietly gathered transformative Buddha light.

A cold laugh, like metal striking stone, suddenly rang out in the arena.

The Mystic Bird emblem on Zhou Yi's battle armor suddenly flared, and the phantom of the Nine Tripod formed a grand mountain‑river array behind him:

"The Western Sect wishes to imitate Nüwa's failed creation of humanity? Do you know what the ancestors of the Human Race said beneath Mount Buzhou when facing the Wu and Yao races?"

Before the words finished, from the direction of Shouyang Mountain a faint Daoic tone of the rotating Taiji Diagram drifted, and violet qi from the Tāvatiṃsa heavens arrived eastward for thirty thousand li.

Ming He's eyes flashed with blood‑colored rays, and the twin Abi Yuan Tu swords interwove into a scarlet net.

As the twelfth‑grade karmic fire red lotus blossomed, the murderous intent of the Sea of Blood solidified, turning the vast clear sky into an Asura furnace.

The Seven‑Kill Formation Diagram left from the last encounter now stirs restlessly beneath Zhou Yi's feet.

"Five‑Direction Heavenly Emperor, appear!" Zhou Yi stepped on the Yin‑Yang twin fishes, and the embroidered landscape map burst forth from the Mud‑Marble Palace.