Chapter 193: Overwhelming Destiny

The twenty‑four preheavenly seals of the Six Roots Pure Bamboo are being gradually shattered by some mysterious force.

Zhou Yi's twin pupils shimmered with stellar trails, and the "soldier" mantra deep within his spirit platform transformed into myriad golden spears.

The ancient secret technique linked the heavenly and earthly martial principles, and the surfaces of the two Buddhist sect supreme treasures unexpectedly showed fine cracks, the spirits of the artifacts emitting mournful cries.

With a crisp "ding" sound, the tip of the Pure Bamboo branch suddenly broke free from the Buddha‑light shackles, tracing a blue arc across the sky.

"You impudent brat!" Maitreya's merit golden wheel behind his neck detonated with a roar, and twelve phantom Sea‑Stabilizing Pearls flickered behind him.

Alas, the consecrated divine pestle had already become a stream of light darting away; no matter how he twisted the three thousand six hundred treasure‑gathering techniques, the holy relic still hurled itself toward the enemy without hesitation.

The arena suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

Zhou Yi seized the blue‑aura‑wrapped bamboo branch with his left hand, lifted the incessantly humming golden pestle with his right palm, and curled a cold smile: "Zhunti Saint is indeed generous; I shall gladly accept this grand gift."

Before the words left his mouth, the two artifacts simultaneously burst with dazzling light. From the depths of the void came the sound of lotus blossoms unfurling, and a will that towers over all beings descended from the Nine Heavens.

Everyone present felt their souls tremble, and in a daze saw the Bodhi tree silhouette piercing the three realms; the phantom of the Seven‑Treasure Marvelous Tree brushed lightly, and the once‑overwhelming "soldier" secret technique melted away invisibly like snow under a scorching sun.

Zhou Yi stared at the golden Buddha silhouette materializing in the void, and said calmly, "It was the Venerable Zhunti himself who has arrived."

Across the Honghuang universe, only those in a Saint realm can wield such vast power.

At this moment, the floating Vajra treasure pestle and the azure‑jade spirit bamboo suddenly radiated holy light, clearly indicating that their master had crossed temporal boundaries to infuse his will into them.

The saint's perception was exceedingly keen; when Zhou Yi employed a secret art to seize the spiritual treasure, the Western Sect leader had already seen through cause and effect.

Even separated by countless star realms, the saintly might could still descend in an instant, and the wholly gilt Demon‑Subduing pestle now inhaled and exhaled Chaos energy that could turn heaven and earth a different hue.

The Saint‑realm pressure swept the eight wildernesses, and Maitreya and the Medicine Master hurriedly prostrated themselves, "Disciple respectfully welcomes the Holy Venerable!"

Though both were anxious, a hidden joy flickered in their eyes, for the rogue who repeatedly sabotaged the sect's grand scheme would soon be punished.

Zhou Yi's robes rustled in the gale, and the Quasi Saint form already showed fissures. The saint's wrath could not be taken lightly; even a billionth of its projected power would be enough to make a Great Luo Golden Immortal vanish in an instant.

"What a reversal of cause and effect," Zhou Yi suddenly boomed a long laugh, and yin‑yang Dao patterns shimmered on his fingertips.

Above the Nine Heavens, a Tai Chi formation diagram abruptly appeared; the two qi of yin and yang turned into grinding stones that eroded the saintly might inch by inch, and the two Preheavenly Spiritual Treasures instantly lost control and fell into his palm.

Above the firmament, mystic light swirled, and the Zhunti Daoist's consecrated divine pestle together with the Six Roots Pure Bamboo gradually shed their Buddha resonance amid the saintly shock, finally turning into two streams of glassy radiance that vanished into Zhou Yi's sleeves.

The young Daoist bowed toward the Tushita Heaven beyond, and a faint Tai Chi phantom emerged amidst the sea of clouds, for it was the Tai Qing Saint's primordial unity that blocked the saints' conflict.

This cause and effect had already been set on the day of the Eight Scenery Palace discussion. That day, the Moral Dao Lord stroked the Tai Chi diagram and promised, "If the two Western Saints entertain delusive thoughts, the old Daoist will see to it."

Now it seems that this chief among the saints has constantly watched the battlefield with a heavenly eye; otherwise, how could he have extinguished Zhunti's saintly power the instant Zhunti provoked?

"Brother Dao, why do you protect this youngster?" a cold snort of Zhunti's wrath came from the ninth heavens, and the phantom of a twelve‑grade golden lotus flickered uncertainly among the clouds.

Yet when the wondrous Purple Palace raised the two qi of yin and yang, the Buddha light of Mount Sumeru eventually retracted its brilliance, enveloping Maitreya and his disciples as they fell westward like meteors. Only the lingering Bodhi fragrance of the Six Roots Pure Bamboo remained, bearing witness to the after‑effects of the saints' clash.

Zhou Yi, hands clasped behind his back, gazed at the Buddha clouds gradually dispersing over the Western Heaven, a playful smile curling his lips. He knew full well that this had utterly angered the saint, but having dared to scheme against the saint's treasure, he had already calculated the cause and effect clearly.

As long as the protective purple aura of the Tai Qing Saint Realm remains, Zhunti cannot cross the thunder‑pool for at least a thousand years. After that millennium, the young Daoist caressed the warm Six Roots Pure Bamboo in his sleeve, a ghostly light flashing in his eyes like stars fading into oblivion.

Where the Sea of Blood churns, the Nether River Sect leader's Yuan Tu Abyssal Twin Swords clash fatefully with the Earth Scripture, and Zhenyuanzi swings his Heaven‑and‑Earth Sleeve, drawing countless mountains and rivers into a palm.

This grudge, forged since the creation of heaven and earth, will likely continue to tangle in the long river of time.

And now Zhou Yi treads the shattered void fissures, marching toward his own path of verification.

Yu Qiang, leading his troops, has exterminated the Demon Race entirely; the conflict ultimately concluded with the demons serving as sacrificial victims.

Zhou Yi bowed to Fude and said, "Since you, fellow Daoist, have already arrived in the Underworld, shall I guide you to observe the profound mysteries of the six realms of reincarnation?"

Fude's face grew worried as he looked toward the You Ming Blood Sea: "Brother Zhenyuanzi and the Nether River Sect leader are still locked in fierce battle; is it truly without obstacle?"

Zhou Yi gestured calmly: "The two Quasi Saints' pinnacle duel is as indecisive as the sun and moon holding each other. Once our tour is complete, Brother Zhenyuanzi will surely return."

His words conveyed unwavering confidence in the top‑tier masters; if not for a saint's descent, who could easily move them a fraction?

Strolling beside the Yellow Springs Path, Fude gazed at the drifting soul‑guiding lantern on the River of Forgetfulness, a familiar strangeness rising in his heart. Even revisiting the old site, the memory of his past life as Wan Huo Ancestor remained as vague as a flower seen through mist, prompting a silent sigh.

"Fellow Daoist, what are your thoughts on this reincarnation system?" Zhou Yi abruptly asked as they passed through layers of Netherworld mist.

"Lady Hou Tu incarnates the cycle of reincarnation, granting all beings the chance of rebirth; it is truly boundless merit," Fude exclaimed sincerely, his fingertip brushing the mottled patterns on the Three‑Life Stone.

Zhou Yi suddenly turned and stared directly at him: "If you, fellow Daoist, seek a divine office in the Hall of Reincarnation, would you be willing to submit?"

His words startled Fude into a stunned half‑step backward; he had only come with Zhenyuanzi to witness the ceremony, never expecting such an opportunity. Though the saint's disciples enjoy lofty status, the Wu Clan, who control reincarnation, have always been exclusive, let alone the overwhelming destiny hidden behind an Underworld divine post.

"Zhou fellow Daoist, do not jest," Fude chuckled wryly, shaking his head, "I lack Tongtian cultivation, and have no ties with the Wu Clan; how could I covet the authority of the Underworld?"

Zhou Yi smiled without replying, his mind already set. This move served both to honor the old friendship with Wan Huo Ancestor and to nurture the great tree that is Zhenyuanzi; after all, for this peerless sovereign, only a reincarnated close confidant could truly stir his heart.

Within this Honghuang universe, Zhou Yi deftly placed a piece on the board. He fixed his gaze on Fude, a hidden scheme behind his smile: "I hear you have studied the Afterlife Scripture diligently; why not take charge of the Office of Crossing Calamities in the Underworld?"

Before the words left his mouth, the ginseng fruit in Zhenyuanzi's hand suddenly glowed with spirit light, and a karmic thread silently coiled around the fingertip of this Earth Immortal ancestor.

A howling cold wind swept the Hall of Reincarnation; Zhou Yi's wide sleeves fluttered lightly as the Six Realms Wheel projected countless beams of light. The souls drifting in the Sea of Blood were split: half burdened with the lingering turbid malevolence of the Demon Calamity, half stained with the hostile aura of the Wu Clan battlefield.

"That one from the Western Sect always says he cannot become a Buddha until hell is empty, but if Buddha light were to illuminate the Netherworld, even Meng Po's soup would have to be replaced with Bodhi dew."

He brushed his fingertip across the karmic fire on the souls' foreheads, and instantly a twelve‑grade golden lotus phantom blossomed.