Chapter 829: This Is the Dongzhou of Our Three Immortals Sect

He could feel it—the boy was trying to make his tone seem casual, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t hide the proud contempt in it.

As if all beings beneath his feet, whether Bodhisattvas or Arhats, were nothing but ants to him.

Allowing you to kneel and welcome us is already a great favor.

What kind of master could produce a servant so arrogant?

“The True Lord of Grand Void…”

Several rescued disciples of the Three Immortals Sect stared blankly at the faint figure atop the treasure palanquin; amid the fluttering black robes, that pale, handsome profile was so transcendent and otherworldly—yet strangely unfamiliar.

Finally, one thin man cried out: “It’s him!”

But just as he was about to utter the title, he instantly realized his mistake and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Wasn’t the name “Grand Void” originally that insect-demon disciple who fled from Nanzhou, was turned away by Lingxu Cave, and was only offered half of Tian Ta Mountain as a base?

But this man’s appearance bore no resemblance to the disciple’s memory—neither You Yao nor Li Shan, even their senior brothers and sisters, possessed such astonishing aura.

“Disciple Xiang Ming, respectfully welcomes Senior Brother Taixu!”

Xiang Ming’s expression was solemn; he mustered all his strength to rise from the ground, then knelt on one knee and bowed deeply toward the heavens.

He didn’t know the True Lord of Grand Void, but he understood “Three Immortals Sect.”

These were fellow disciples from Beizhou who had come to reinforce them—they had finally waited for this moment, and that sword strike just now deserved his bow.

“We respectfully welcome Senior Brother Taixu!”

The female disciple dropped her immortal sword and, along with the disciples behind her, knelt on one knee, offering the highest reverence due to a half-senior, bowing to the dark-robed Daoist Lord as fellow disciples should.

In contrast to the Three Immortals Sect disciples, though severely wounded by that sword strike, the five Bodhisattvas still clenched their teeth tightly—instead of kneeling, they quietly retrieved their own Buddhist treasures.

“… ”

Shen Yi silently watched the scene below, then let out a scoff after a moment: “Since you refuse to kneel, you must want to die.”

With that, he obediently stepped back behind the True Lord.

The lead Bodhisattva, his face caked in blood, suddenly twitched violently; he clutched his lotus, looked up, and roared: “You disciples of the Immortal Sect have intruded into our Bodhi Sect’s Dongzhou…”

At that moment, the languidly reclining Daoist Lord lifted his index finger slightly.

Instantly, the ancient immortal sword embedded straight into the palace steps trembled faintly, radiating the terrifying aura of a Seven-Tempered Magic Treasure!

It did not leave the steps, but dozens of straight lines suddenly appeared on the lead Bodhisattva’s body; blood slowly seeped from the lines, accompanied by pattering sounds, as his entire body—along with the lotus in his hands—was cleanly dismembered into dozens of bloody chunks.

Shen Yi sat up slightly and asked calmly to the monks: “I didn’t quite catch that—whose Dongzhou?”

“Huh—”

Around the hall, heavy, ragged breaths rose and fell in succession.

The remaining four Bodhisattvas trembled violently, watching helplessly as their senior died before their eyes without resistance; this man must be the top disciple of the One Mountain, having reached the pinnacle of the Nine-Nine Transformations—and with that Seven-Tempered immortal sword, he was clearly among the very elite of such senior disciples.

Even higher than Chu Xi, who led them earlier!

Thinking of this, the Bodhisattva’s instinctive fear surged—but this was at the foot of Dong Xumí Mountain; if they admitted Dongzhou could be shared with this man… not only did they lack authority to make such a decision, but saying it aloud would mean being flayed alive upon returning.

They turned to look at the many Arhats behind them.

Yes! This was just a show of force—don’t be fooled! They refused to believe this man truly dared slaughter a thousand monks of Xumí Mountain in broad daylight.

If you have the guts, kill us all!

“This is! The Bodhi Sect’s Dongzhou!”

Another Bodhisattva roared, but before his words fully left his mouth, the Arhats behind him all shouted in unison.

Yet in the span of a breath, dozens of heads tumbled neatly to the ground, and thick bloodstained stench instantly engulfed the entire hall.

The entire process left no hesitation—words spoken, sword arrived.

The Bodhisattva who had just thought this was merely a warning now felt his throat convulse uncontrollably; sweat the size of beans rolled down his forehead, and his throat felt as if filled with fire.

He stared in disbelief at the treasure palanquin in the sky, only to see the young man’s expression calm, still seated high above, awaiting their response.

“Dongzhou… belongs to the Bodhi Sect…”

With so many fellow disciples falling before their eyes, those remaining either clung to hope or were stirred into fury; each lifted their heads, glaring fiercely at the dark-robed figure, though their voices had grown noticeably quieter.

During the two sects’ conflicts, many had died—but always in life-or-death battles, with excuses to justify not holding back; such a case as this—where victory was already assured, yet the killing continued mercilessly—was rare even between the two sects.

This man sought to seize incense offerings through tribulation; if he truly committed such slaughter, when the Three Immortals Sect and Bodhi Sect confronted each other, he would face no mercy—this directly contradicted his own interests.

Even a favored prodigy like him must now be straining to hold his nerve, merely pretending strength—if only they held out a little longer…

This time, the swordlight didn’t even let them finish speaking.

Pfft! Pfft!

The last remaining Bodhisattva trembled as he turned back—behind him, not a single soul remained alive; the ground was littered with shredded corpses, like a hell on earth.

He opened his mouth slightly, lips quivering, his features twisted as he turned back toward the figure.

In his pupils reflected a tall, slender silhouette.

The True Lord of Grand Void had somehow appeared before him, gently placing his hand on the Bodhisattva’s forehead, asking casually: “Whose Dongzhou?”

The Bodhisattva felt the coldness on his face; a chilling dread instantly spread through his entire body.

His voice trembled: “It’s… ours… both sects’… Dongzhou…”

Even after admitting this, the coldness at his brow grew sharper; the long fingers slowly sank into his skull, thick blood oozing down, blurring his vision.

“Wrong.”

Under the Bodhisattva’s terrified gaze, the young man shook his head seriously, his voice still clear: “There is no ‘you.’”

The next instant, he calmly crushed the Bodhisattva’s skull.

Shen Yi withdrew his hand and silently watched the man collapse backward.

He had not only specially retrieved this treasure palanquin from Yunmiao True Person’s storage pouch, but had also brought along a servant—making such a grand, arrogant display—for one purpose alone.

If the Golden Immortals heard of this and stormed Dongzhou en masse, he’d save himself considerable trouble.

But now it seemed that, aside from Chi Yunzi, the other Golden Immortals had no such intention; even if he spoke the direst words, their actions had already revealed the Three Immortals Sect’s stance.

Want reconciliation?

Dream on.

Shen Yi extended his hand; the Wuwei Sword, deeply embedded in the stone steps, shot up with a whoosh and landed in his palm.

He turned, sword in hand, glanced casually at the disciples kneeling before the hall, and said coolly: “Rise. Follow me and take back what’s ours.”

At those words, for some reason, several disciples of the Three Immortals Sect felt their hearts shake violently.

What the monks could see, they could see too.

Even now, at this stage of battle, not even the Great Liberation Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva dared strike without an excuse.

Even if the excuse was flimsy, one still had to have one—otherwise, it broke the rules and gave others grounds to condemn them.

They feared being handed over later as scapegoats to appease the other great sect, with no way for their own side to defend them.

Everyone knew this conflict wouldn’t last forever; eventually it would end, and even if they weren’t killed, they’d gain nothing.

In other words, Senior Brother Taixu’s arrival in Dongzhou wasn’t to compete for incense offerings—he risked his own future merely to stand by them and avenge them.

“Disciple obeys!”

Xiang Ming wiped his face with his sleeve and rose abruptly: “We will follow Senior Brother to the death!”

Whatever the Bodhi Sect had done to humiliate them, they must now repay it all—tenfold.

“… ”

Watching this scene just as intently was the monk Zhi Kong, hidden in the heavens.

When he had still worried whether Shen my lord could survive after going to Beizhou, the man had suddenly reappeared before him without warning.

The same haughty, all-conquering posture—no less imposing than when he was in Nanzhou.

Bodhisattvas feared him; Immortals knelt to him.

Even after coming from Nanzhou into the vortex between the two sects, he was still Shen my lord—the one who controlled everything.

Of course, Zhi Kong didn’t know why Shen my lord was acting under the identity of the Three Immortals Sect’s senior brother—but he always believed that no matter what the man did, it was always for the sake of mortal lives ignored like ants by gods and Buddhas.

“Huh.”

But in an instant, the monk calmed his emotions.

He hadn’t forgotten that beside him was an old thing that might threaten Shen my lord.

Zhi Kong knew his place well; the Future Buddha had said he accepted him for two reasons—besides his Buddhist heart, the only thing these cosmic titans valued in him was his connection to Shen my lord.

Trying to deceive me into lowering my guard… hmph!

“Sss.”

The Future Buddha glanced sidelong at the subtle shifts in Jin Chanzi’s expression; his chest tightened, his lips twitched faintly, and he couldn’t help squeezing his staff harder.

After a moment, he suppressed the urge to strike that bristly pig-head, and turned his gaze back to the youth below.

The old man-like Future Buddha raised an eyebrow meaningfully.

That Seven-Tempered Magic Treasure could indeed help a cultivator achieve this—but how could one with only the pinnacle of Nine-Nine Transformations control it so precisely, so effortlessly?

Hiding his cultivation base, entering tribulation in such a bizarre manner…

If not for incense offerings, then for what?

The Future Buddha thought he glimpsed his own destiny—but it remained unclear, for he simply couldn’t fathom how such a junior cultivator could possibly change anything.

If any other True Buddha or Emperor had been here today, the young man’s scheme would have ended here.

But it was himself who came.

“Enough, enough. Since I can’t see clearly…”

The Future Buddha clicked his tongue lazily: “Then I’ll pretend I didn’t see it.”

Let the Bodhi Sect’s great tribulation be handled by their patriarch Buddha—what does it have to do with me, a future World Honored One?

“Go your own way… remember to stay far from him. I’ve prepared two paths for myself; one is lost, and you’re my only disciple—don’t throw yourself away needlessly.”

The old man turned and slowly walked down from the clouds.

“…”

Master Zhi Kong turned around, outright ignoring the Future Buddha’s warning, intent only on gathering more intelligence for Lord Shen: “Master, where are you headed?”

Bang!

The old man finally couldn’t hold back—he spun and struck him on the head with his staff.

As one of the Three Great Buddhas, this was his first sincere attempt to take a disciple, yet every time this brat called him “Master,” it came with an agenda—who could endure such insolence?

He rolled his eyes, impatiently saying, “To the Eastern Sumeru to pay a visit.”

The karmic thread he couldn’t yet see might be useless for now, but he couldn’t let others spot it first—he needed to draw the attention of those three old monks in the Eastern Sumeru away.

As soon as he spoke, the Future Buddha vanished silently from his spot.

Only Zhi Kong remained, grimacing as he rubbed his forehead hard, yet he had no intention of going to see Lord Shen just yet—who knew if the old man was just feigning? Better to wait and observe.

…

Near Nanping Prefecture.

In a secluded cliffside.

Several disciples of the Three Immortals Sect sat cross-legged, their bodies grievously wounded—even worse off than Xiang Ming and the others in the prefectural city.

Fortunately, a man in blue-green robes had carefully set up a formation, produced healing elixirs, and even exhausted his own Tribulation power to heal them all.

“Thank you, Senior Brother Li Shan.”

After a long while, their complexions improved, and they slowly opened their eyes, first expressing gratitude, then turning their gazes toward the prefectural city, where they had sensed the violent disturbance.

The killing aura was terrifying, and signs of a Bodhisattva’s demise were evident in the heavens and earth.

“Senior Brother, who was the one who struck? Why do we have no memory of such a person?”

“…”

Li Shan gazed with a wistful expression, recalling the astonishing swordlight he had seen earlier.

When he first arrived in the Eastern Zhou, his goal was simply to save as many fellow sect members as possible—call it caution if you’re kind, but if you’re blunt… having grown accustomed to the Northern Zhou, stepping onto the Bodhi Sect’s territory naturally made him hesitant, even a bit timid—calling him a bully among his own kind wouldn’t be unfair.

He only wanted to minimize losses before the elders arrived, taking things one step at a time.

But the earlier surge of energy had stirred shame within him.

Recalling his Master’s words—“Don’t hold back”—he suspected that this newly arrived fellow disciple might truly embody the image of an Immortal Emperor the elders had in mind.

“That was Senior Brother Tai Xu of Lingxu Cave.”

“Senior Brother Tai Xu?” Several disciples snapped their gazes back, stunned—among their peers in the Northern Zhou, someone actually merited Li Shan calling them “Senior Brother”?

“Senior Brother Tai Xu is the first disciple of our Three Immortals Sect.” Li Shan didn’t deny it; instead, he emphasized it further, utterly unconcerned that this might elevate another’s stature—he was simply stating facts.

The moment “first disciple” was spoken, the air fell utterly silent.

Once, Li Shan, Sister Youyao, and Qixian the Immortal of the Eastern Pole Emperor’s Mansion had held a three-way balance of power in the Northern Zhou.

How long had they been gone? The position of first disciple had already passed to someone else.

“What exactly happened? What about Sister Youyao and Qixian the Immortal…?” The disciples took a long time to process this news.

“It’s a long story,” Li Shan sighed, a sharp glint entering his eyes. Since Senior Brother Tai Xu had already begun, he couldn’t let his Master down.

This cultivation of his must be tested against the lives of a few monks.

(End of Chapter)