Chapter 800: You All Should Enter the Arena Now

Even if unwilling, Puti Sect could not delay any longer; someone had to step onto the stage.

And this arena of doctrinal debate had become like the Yellow Springs Road.

As the monks entered the scene and fell into a dilemma, whether to launch full-force attacks or stand frozen in place, they all ultimately could not escape that sudden, dazzling sword strike.

Shen Yi's actions had clearly enraged all the Great Freedom Bodhisattvas.

And this act's impact on the Great Calamity extended beyond this.

Beyond this patch of yellow cloud, disciples of both sects still fighting gradually began to sense something was amiss.

Even when monks held the upper hand, none dared hold back—none knew whether the cultivator before them was imitating Taixu Zhenjun, feigning weakness to lie in wait and strike with a fatal blow.

Once the seed of suspicion took root, it became nearly impossible to undo.

Unless they utterly slew their opponent, they could never know true safety.

None among them were Great Freedom cultivators of second-rank; each had only one life—how could they dare gamble on another's intentions?

"This is too much!"

The cultivators who had previously been outmatched by the monks, under this relentless pressure, now had no choice but to adopt a desperate, life-or-death stance to protect themselves.

A heavy aura of slaughter suddenly pierced the tranquil Eastern Sumeru.

Aside from Shen Yi's strikes, casualties began appearing elsewhere; once death occurred, every combatant—regardless of opponent strength—adopted a posture of dire alarm, brimming with caution, and their attacks grew increasingly brutal.

"…"

Until his fellow disciple from the same lineage was critically wounded, Li Shan stepped forward, facing a monk far weaker than himself—yet the monk's face was filled with sorrow, yet still launched a desperate, life-or-death assault upon him.

The monks' ferocious, man-eating expressions and the thick surge of killing intent made him shudder for an instant; he instinctively summoned his spiritual treasure and reduced the monk to dust.

A faint scent of blood filled Li Shan's nostrils; his outstretched hand froze midair, fingertips trembling imperceptibly.

Their original intent had indeed been to avenge their brethren; when Li Shan first arrived in the Eastern Continent, he had not spared these bald ones—but then, the feeling was utterly different from now.

He inexplicably felt something was wrong with this atmosphere.

Recalling earlier, why had he urged Youyao not to act rashly, why had he sought to mediate the rift between her and Zhu Shixiong Shen Yi, if not because he feared one day the Great Calamity would descend into mutual slaughter?

Alas, he had failed to dissuade her, and Zhu Shixiong Shen Yi had inadvertently planted the seed of disaster for Youyao.

This scene before him was so eerily similar to that moment.

Zhu Shixiong Shen Yi's intentions were still noble—he sought justice for their brethren—but the consequences… had made the situation spiral beyond control.

Not only Li Shan sensed the anomaly; the elders of both sects could not fail to notice something was amiss.

Yet, so many disciples had already perished; countless Jin Xian and Great Freedom Bodhisattvas watched their disciples die before their eyes, their emotions already in turmoil—had it not been for the four First-Rank titans seated in the background, they would have rushed onto the field themselves.

The few who remained clear-headed felt utterly powerless.

This situation was not without a solution.

Ultimately, the problem lay with the first disciple of the Xian Sect.

To resolve it, one need only prevent him from so effortlessly controlling the outcomes of the duels—in short, if a disciple of sufficient strength could not defeat him, they need only avoid being toyed with, and surviving would be easy enough.

The calamity's power would eventually exhaust itself; using a wheel battle tactic, once this troublemaker was worn down, the remaining disciples could be gently calmed.

The current problem: no one has yet survived his sword strike, nor glimpsed Shen Yi's true depths—so the Puti Sect disciples with real power refuse to step forward and risk their lives.

"…"

Even the Joyful Zhenfo had begun to be moved by the current death toll.

The earlier confidence of "each relying on their own ability" had vanished.

His eyelid twitched; he could no longer restrain himself and cast a glance toward a prodigy from his own sect, kept as a hidden trump card.

Under the Zhenfo's gaze, that Bodhisattva's face darkened slightly, yet he could only reluctantly rise, his steps heavy as he walked to face Shen Yi.

He took a deep breath, fully aware he was here only to drain this Taixu Zhenjun's calamity energy—not to win.

If his sole aim were this, it would not be difficult.

But defeat would mean serving as a stepping stone for others; his own future would be darkened.

But this was the Eastern Continent—these monks from other lands could never rival the Zhenfo's cherished darlings.

"Hu."

The Bodhisattva steadied his mind, refocusing on the distant Taixu Zhenjun.

He remained silent, carefully withdrawing a pair of Dharma Wheels.

The moment this five-refined Buddha treasure appeared, nearly everyone understood: Puti Sect was now serious.

Recall that even Youyao, with her status, possessed only a five-refined spiritual treasure as her defense.

"…"

Not only Puti Sect disciples, but even Xian Sect members fell silent.

When Zhu Shixiong Shen Yi had faced Youyao in the Taixu Realm, none knew what transpired inside—now, finally, a peer-level powerhouse had stepped forward.

This was their chance to glimpse the true abilities of this first-disciple senior.

Yet when the monk summoned a Golden Body manifestation far surpassing his previous comrades and channeled all his calamity energy into the Dharma Wheels, true terror spread among the disciples.

A chill of dread surged in every eye.

No difference… everything unfolding here seemed vividly familiar—whether this Puti Sect prodigy or the original thin, dark monk, their power levels differed greatly, yet their encounters with Taixu Zhenjun were identical.

The same black clouds howled; the same Golden River effortlessly shattered all before it; finally, the same white rainbow flashed across.

Zhu Shixiong Shen Yi won again by a hair's breadth.

And this Puti Sect prodigy, too, fell short by a fraction—just half a step from slaying the first-disciple, yet he could not cross that final threshold, and met his end.

By now, no one dared trust their own eyes.

"It's all fake…"

A monk's lips trembled, muttering aloud what all felt in their hearts.

The dark robe rippled; Shen Yi stood amid the cosmos, one man, one sword, like an impassable abyss blocking Puti Sect's path—filling all with an unbridgeable despair.

The remaining talented monks climbed onto the yellow clouds, their faces numb.

Their Buddha hearts began to collapse before they even made a move.

They had no idea what the meaning of their lifelong arduous cultivation was; was it merely to walk this road of no return, causing that True Person of the Dark Robe to grow even paler in the face?

The opponent seemed on the verge of exhaustion, but just like this impenetrable void black cloud, no one knew when exactly this "imminent" moment would arrive.

"Hah!"

Master Miaoyin stared blankly at the arena, suddenly snapping back to reality as if struck by lightning.

He held the purple-gold alms bowl in his hands, trembling slightly as he looked around the empty surroundings, then realized in horror that it was now his turn.

In the instant he was saved by the True Buddha of Joy, his heart was filled with thoughts of how to humiliate this Taixu True Person, wishing to shatter the opponent's Dao body and make him prostrate on the ground like a wild dog.

But now, this seven-quenched purple-gold alms bowl in his hand gave him not a shred of confidence; instead, its touch was cold, chilling all the way to the tip of his heart.

His mind was in a daze, unaware of how he had walked onto these yellow clouds.

Reflected in his pupils was the figure whose aura had weakened to the extreme; amidst the fluttering dark robes, Shen Yi, who had fought seven battles, stood straight, yet his aura had clearly diminished, as if one more push would extinguish this dying candle in the wind completely.

Under such circumstances, Monk Miaoyin inexplicably felt his body go soft.

He not only held his master's supreme treasure and the fruit seat personally repaired by the True Buddha of Joy, but it also contained a few threads of Buddha power, intended to help him take the final step onto the position of Immortal Emperor.

Under the True Buddha's instructions, several talented fellow disciples had sacrificed their lives to reduce the opponent's foundation of calamity power, finally arriving at this moment of picking the fruit.

If he could just behead this True Person, many fellow disciples would surely raise their arms and wave their sleeves to push him up to that position.

"..."

Thinking of this, Monk Miaoyin raised his head to look at the opponent.

When he met Shen Yi's calm eyes, he instinctively wanted to avert his gaze, and the softness in his body reached its peak at that moment.

Thud.

Under the gaze of disciples from both sects, Monk Miaoyin's eyes were filled with bloodshot veins; he gritted his teeth, with veins bulging on his neck, yet his knees suddenly bent, he couldn't even stand steadily, and collapsed onto the ground in a limp kneel.

He kept his head down, daring not to look at the two True Buddhas, only tremblingly raising his hands above his head.

With the precedent set by True Person Haoming, everyone present understood what he intended to do, so a look of disbelief surged onto all their faces.

Such a sacrifice by so many fellow disciples had only exchanged for such an opportunity.

Although the True Buddhas of the Eastern Continent would certainly side with the disciples of the Eastern Continent, for it to happen to be Master Miaoyin's turn was simply a heaven-sent opportunity.

Even the talented disciples of the Sanxian Sect, including Li Shan, were prepared to take over from Zhu Shixiong Taixu at any moment.

Under these circumstances, Monk Miaoyin actually chose to kneel and admit defeat directly?!

One must know that True Person Haoming was merely an insignificant figure among the Immortals, while Master Miaoyin was one of the most promising candidates for the Puti Sect to contend for the supreme position; for both to do the same thing, the lost face was incomparable.

"..."

The face of the True Buddha of Joy had turned a deep iron green.

For a first-rank giant to show such a drastic change in expression, Master Miaoyin was truly unique among third-rank cultivators.

The Eastern Pole Emperor watched the spectacle, feigning calmness.

One must know that nearly eighty percent of the Immortal disciples below were under the Three Pure Ones, having little relation to him as an Emperor; no matter how heavy the casualties, as long as it did not affect the Great Calamity, he could accept it.

However, the usually benevolent Empress Hou Tu had not yet appeared to stop them, which made him feel slightly surprised.

But thinking about it, it was normal.

These Immortal disciples, including himself and the Three Pure Ones' Sect Master, were, in the eyes of this Empress Hou Tu Earth Emperor, destroying the Divine Dynasty she had personally assisted; even a mud Bodhisattva retains some temper, let alone an Emperor.

Thinking of this, the Eastern Pole Emperor slowly closed his eyes.

He had watched enough of the spectacle; he would let this group of monks handle it, for if they continued to provoke them like this, those two Buddhas would likely lose their temper for real.

Just then, disciples from both sects waited for the most absurd event of this calamity to occur.

That Taixu True Person, who always waited for the opponent to strike first, made a move proactively for the first time.

"Hoo."

Shen Yi exhaled slightly.

He lowered his head, took a treasure bag from his sleeve, held it in his palm to examine it seriously, and rubbed the red cloud patterns on it with his thumb.

The instant this treasure bag appeared.

The Jin Xian of the Seventy-Two Caves all changed color simultaneously; Xuan Weizi suddenly clenched his five fingers, as if he finally understood what madness his eldest disciple was up to.

Since the opponent entered the arena to debate the Dao, all his actions did not seem aimed at becoming an Immortal Emperor, and it was highly unlikely that the Eastern Pole Emperor had secretly given any orders.

It was heard that during the incident of Sister Youyao, Yan Shidi Chi Yun stepped forward to block Yan Shidi Master Qingguang, saving Shen Yi's life... Could it be that everything today was to repay that kindness?

"..." Chi Yunzi stood motionless in place, his breathing somewhat disordered.

In the next moment, Shen Yi, who had not spoken a single word even after fighting seven battles except for introducing himself, finally spoke again.

"When the True Person Chu Xi of the Chi Yun Cave was beaten to death by you all."

"Did you ever think of sparing his life?"

"Hah!" The cold voice echoed in the ears of Monk Miaoyin; he raised his head in terror, staring fixedly at the red cloud patterns on the treasure bag, then his face turned deathly pale, his pupils constricted, and he could no longer care about the entanglement in his heart, as words of surrender were about to escape his lips.

However, at the same time, the black cloud that everyone could tear apart at will suddenly became vast and majestic.

The figure in dark robes took a step forward, suddenly appearing behind Monk Miaoyin; under the influx of overwhelming calamity power, the Wu Wei Sword erupted with an unprecedented blinding white light.

Pfft!

The sword blade pierced through the neck of this Bodhisattva, emerging from his throat, carrying splashing scarlet blood, and forcibly pinned him to the yellow clouds in a kneeling posture.

Shen Yi's expression was calm and focused; his long boots stood steadily on Monk Miaoyin's shoulders, and with both palms applying force slowly and steadily, the sword blade twisted bit by bit, intending to directly twist off that fine head.

He abandoned the method of luring the opponent in, finally making his move openly and squarely.

With just one sword strike, he declared to the world where the limit of a Daluo Immortal truly lies!

Li Shan covered his eyes with his hand, blocking that blinding white rainbow.

He never thought that with only third-rank cultivation, one could erupt with such terrifying sword light.

Lingxu Zi stared in shock, his tongue clenched—he could hardly believe it: the immortal sword that had terrified both sects was none other than the Wuwei Sword he himself had once bestowed?

"Enough!"

In an instant, a beastlike roar erupted from the Puti Sect.

The great monk with twelve eyes across his brow strode through the air; this Great Free Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva wore a fearsome countenance, and his coarse, calloused palms, hidden within wide sleeves, unleashed a terrifying calamity force that made the four great peaks tremble slightly as they slammed toward the dark-robed figure in the arena.

At the same time, a unique Dao pattern appeared in the heavens and earth.

After all, the Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva had past grievances; long before Master Miaoyin stepped onto the stage, the Seventy-Two Caves Jin Xian had already prepared.

The fastest to act were Xuan Weizi and Chi Yunzi.

Two more Dao patterns surged into the sky.

And as the endpoint of the three Dao patterns, Shen Yi stood with his back to the Great Free Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva; unseen by all, he closed his eyes and, on his calm face, released an inexplicable sigh of relief.

Ah, finally…

Taken.

(End of Chapter)