Chapter 74: Demon Words Terrify the Turtle Monk; One Captured, One Loses Life

Fang Longye reached out his hand to gather the void above the turtle demon's body, holding the invisible gossamer in his palm to examine it.

How should he put it?

It felt as if there was nothing in his hand, as if he were touching a mass of air.

Only under the probing of his primordial spirit could he see a thin, weightless veil, resembling smoke or mist, fluttering in his hand.

He understood that it was only because it had lost its master that it could be perceived by his primordial spirit.

If it had been refined by someone else, even a Golden Immortal would be unable to perceive it without having mastered a Great Divine Ability like the Barrier-Piercing Insight.

There are differences even among Great Divine Abilities.

Unlike Nine Breaths Serving Qi, Turning Rivers and Seas, Riding Clouds and Mists, or Summoning Wind and Rain, Great Divine Abilities like Barrier-Piercing Insight and Mediation of Creation are the pinnacle of top-tier abilities, and they are extremely difficult to master.

For instance, the Inverting Yin and Yang he had comprehended was not instantly powerful just because he had grasped it; it was barely at the introductory level, and in terms of raw power, it was not even as good as Summoning Wind and Rain!

Once Barrier-Piercing Insight is mastered, one can see through the essence of all things and directly perceive the Great Dao; theoretically, one would no longer lack insight into the Dao.

Very few cultivators can master a Great Divine Ability of the level of Barrier-Piercing Insight while in the Golden Immortal Realm, and it is even rarer for it to be a detection-type ability similar to this one.

Therefore, this Spirit Treasure is of great help even in the Golden Immortal Realm.

Refining it with his primordial spirit was unexpectedly easy; in just a moment, it was almost completely refined.

Compared to the Green Mountain Seal on his own hand, which he still hadn't been able to fully refine, it was a world of difference.

Fang Longye turned his thoughts around and understood: this kind of Spirit Treasure is best suited for holders at lower realms, and the higher one's cultivation, the more of a "chicken rib" it becomes.

Golden Immortals can only craft mid-grade Spirit Treasures; he figured that Golden Immortal had either been gifted this treasure by an elder or had obtained it just like the turtle demon and himself.

Since this turtle demon could use it to peek at a Golden Immortal bathing and, even after being discovered, manage to escape and hide all the way to Beiju Luzhou, refining it was naturally very easy.

"What a pity about that Lotus Seed you stole and ate!" Fang Longye sighed, thinking again of that rare Lotus Seed which was clearly extraordinary in the demon's memories.

He couldn't help but look at its hundred-zhang demon body and secretly think that if he were to refine it with his Pure Lotus Divine Ability, he would surely gain something.

Under the Soul Searching Technique, the turtle demon, already somewhat dizzy, felt Fang Longye's gaze and couldn't help but feel a jolt of alarm and a chill throughout its body, associating it with the regretful words this master had just uttered.

It immediately wailed and begged for mercy: "Don't eat me, please don't eat me! Turtle meat doesn't taste good; it's sour and astringent~"

Hearing this, Fang Longye turned his head and teased it: "Who says turtle meat doesn't taste good? In my opinion, there is no meat under heaven that doesn't taste good."

He then improvised a ballad: "The Buddhist kind should be steamed in clear water, fat and tender, easy to swallow; the Fomen kind should be fried in hot oil, crispy and fresh, gulped down in one bite; the Demon kind should be skinned alive, every drop of essence blood is fragrant and delicious; mortals have no flavor and must be pickled, sun-dried three times to make a stew..."

After hearing the ballad, the turtle demon didn't dare to curse Fang Longye aloud, but instead burst into loud sobs, its wailing shaking the area for a hundred miles.

Jinghuan, who was kneeling beside Fang Longye and pounding his legs, smiled to herself as she watched Fang Longye clapping and humming along to the rhythm; the young master was just good at scaring people.

However, this ballad was quite interesting; she should memorize it well, as it might come in handy later.

Above the blue sky, in the midst of a battlefield shimmering with gold and cyan, the monk sitting on a lotus throne heard the ballad Fang Longye spoke and couldn't help but feel his mind tremble.

His fighting rhythm suddenly faltered, allowing Qingli to seize the opportunity, and the balance, which was already tilting toward her, shifted even further.

The monk's defeat was not far off.

Swinging her sword to shatter the remedial measures the monk hurriedly deployed, Qingli revealed a smile on her cold, jade-like face and said to the monk with a playful tone: "The young master is right. My young master has always loved studying such culinary arts; he doesn't even know how many variations he has experimented with just for the fried dishes of Brahma-sect cultivators."

"Monk, you are in luck. You are of the turtle clan and a Brahma-sect cultivator; falling into my young master's hands, wouldn't you get to experience the pleasure of being bled and then fried?"

"Demoness, do you think these words can shake my resolve? These are scare tactics, not worth believing. Just look at your Prince's cyan-to-the-clouds pillar of destiny, his golden flowers and tassels, his surging merit—do you think I would believe you?"

Although he said this, the monk, dressed in magnificent monk's robes, was not firm at heart.

He had, after all, spent time in Fomen and knew the reputation of the Golden-Winged Great Peng.

This master had created countless killing karma since the beginning of heaven and earth. Since the birth of the Human Race, he had devoured countless humans, yet one never saw him suffer from any karma.

He remained pure, untainted by the slightest causal karma. A wash in the Eight Treasures Merit Pool, and all dust was gone, leaving him with the appearance of an immortal god of boundless merit.

This Dragon Prince—who knows what his origins are? The Dragon Clan has deep foundations; it is not surprising that they produced such a figure who commits such monstrous killings yet remains untainted by karma.

With his mind wavering, even with the blessing of Buddhist treasures, he gradually could not withstand Qingli's attacks.

Clang—like a sword strike that could sever the heavens and break the earth, it lightly brushed past the Wooden Fish.

Whoosh—the Prayer Beads scattered, and the Wooden Fish cracked.

The golden light of Buddhist rhyme, already reduced to a thin layer, dissipated completely.

The blue sky was as if washed clean, leaving only a sword mark that would be difficult to erase for a long time.

Beneath the sword mark, Qingli stood holding her sword.

Her green robes fluttered—what a display of a Sword Immortal's grace! Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, the monk no longer cared about Fang Longye's threats and laughed miserably: "Good! The Prince is indeed formidable; even a mere maidservant has pushed me to this point."

"Wuqiao is impressed! The Dragon Clan is truly worthy of being a great clan of the Honghuang~"

"I suppose the Prince would never truly let me go. Very well, I shall discard this remnant body and fight the Prince one last time."

He immediately summoned an ancient oil lamp and poured his entire essence, energy, and spirit into it, causing his physical form to dissipate.

Golden flames illuminated everything, bright and pure, shining like a clean lotus flower, surpassing the brilliance of the moon, and together with the sunlight in the sky, the surroundings were filled with Brahma sounds and Buddhist chants.

The Buddhist light surged, transforming into myriad forms of sun wheels, moon wheels, star wheels, and Buddha wheels, with Buddhist intent within and tassels without, colliding with each other, expanding with an extraordinary sound that felt almost tangible.

Buddhist chants echoed all around, and amidst the waves of curses, everything was covered; one after another, phantom images of Buddha appeared, shining with intense light.

Qingli bore the brunt of it, her body scorched by golden flames, struggling to hold on.

Her eyes were filled with a golden glare, making them ache, and her ears were stuffed with chanting, one sound after another, louder than the tolling of a bell.

The indestructible sword intent in her heart felt like metal and stone meeting a raging fire; though it had not yet dissipated, she could no longer exert any force.

Even with the Golden Immortal origin within her, it was still difficult to maintain a heart of courageous advancement.

Just as the Buddhist light and golden flames were slow yet swift, with golden rays soaring into the sky, sweeping everything with an unstoppable momentum—

A sigh was heard from Fang Longye.

This sound was merely a light sigh, but after it was emitted, it echoed and reverberated with infinite depth, interwoven with faint dragon roars, carrying an unquestionable dominance.

Above the firmament, the originally brilliant sunlight seemed to be blocked by a black curtain and disappeared; then, a shocking thunderbolt pierced through heaven and earth.

The thunderbolt roared, and wind and clouds gathered.

Raindrops the size of fists came pattering down; unlike ordinary raindrops, these were the Nine Heavens Weak Water, pouring down and hitting the Buddhist light and golden flames, immediately emitting a crackling sound.

The clear Buddhist golden flame was suppressed and annihilated.

A flow of Yin and Yang Two Qis circulated, erasing everything. A five-colored halo followed closely behind, transforming into a precious tree to suppress all.

The clouds dispersed and the rain cleared.

The sky was clear for ten thousand miles, with a gentle breeze blowing.

Where the monk had been, only an ancient oil lamp remained, burning with a tiny flame.

It was taken by the fair hand of Qingli not far away and presented to Fang Longye, who had never risen from the Vine Chair.

Even a death-dealing strike was nothing more than a gentle breeze brushing against the face.

The second chapter for today~

(End of this chapter)