Chapter 832: The Seventy-Two Caves of Immortal Immortals

The Sanxian Sect’s sudden full-scale counterattack triggered a cataclysmic shift in the entire Dongzhou situation.

But long before the Great Freedom Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva struck down the young disciple Chu Xi, Xumishan had foreseen this moment—only not that it would come so swiftly.

The great monks of East Xumishan had long begun sending word to their fellow disciples in the other two continents.

As time passed, the Arhats trod the mountains and rivers, the Bodhisattvas’ lotus thrones soared through the sky, turning the clear heavens into an endless lotus pond.

They gradually arrived in Dongzhou.

The proper sequence of the great calamity was to first breach the Divine Dynasty, then establish immortal shrines and Buddhist temples to govern the refugees, and only after all that was accomplished would the disciples of both great sects display their divine arts to vie for the supreme position of Immortal Emperor.

The victor would secure a more dominant position for their sect in the future division of incense offerings.

It was also a gentleman’s agreement between the Bodhi Sect and the Sanxian Sect.

But now, things had taken a different turn—even though Nanzhou had yet to fall and the Divine Dynasty had not collapsed, the entire process had abruptly leapt to its final stage.

Disciples from both sects streamed into Dongzhou, subtly signaling an intent to settle their superiority right here.

Under these circumstances, Miaoyin Bodhisattva grew restless.

He had previously exhausted himself defending his fellow sect members, playing the sacrificial pawn, and finally built up enough reputation to surpass several senior brothers stronger than himself, with a chance to complete the grand task of unifying Dongzhou.

Had things followed the normal course, though he was under house arrest and needed to lie low to avoid further provoking the Sanxian Sect, his achievement in eliminating Chu Xi—a major threat to the Bodhi Sect—was undeniable.

Once the storm passed, when he reemerged, he would still be the senior brother whom his peers saw as the one who drove out those immortal sects.

Who could have imagined the Sanxian Sect’s counterstrike would come so fast?

At this moment, Miaoyin Bodhisattva sat cross-legged atop Mount Foshan, gazing down at the multitude of fellow disciples gathering below. He hesitated for an instant, then his eyes flared with ruthless determination.

He had not left East Xumishan recently, but he had heard rumors of the Tai Xu True Person’s deeds.

Those of the same kind understand each other best.

That seven-refined immortal sword, coupled with his reckless defiance and slaughter of countless Bodhisattvas and Arhats, proved this man was nearly identical to himself: possessing formidable sect backing but lacking personal strength, forced to become the sacrificial pawn to gain renown.

Of course, even knowing the man’s hollow strength, he had no desire to confront such a figure unless absolutely necessary.

But now…

Miaoyin’s eyes narrowed. Leaving aside how his fellow disciples might view him if he showed retreat, he truly needed an excuse to reemerge, lest the monks from the other two continents seize the initiative.

“I understand.”

He slowly rose, turned, and entered the great temple.

Inside, a withered old monk sat upon a meditation cushion, his eyebrows bearing ten holes, forming with his eyes the shape of a lotus pod—hence his name, Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva.

“Master, I wish to descend the mountain,” Miaoyin Bodhisattva pulled up his robe and knelt before the old monk.

“...” The Great Freedom Lotus Pearl Bodhisattva opened his six pairs of eyes, gazing fondly at the young monk before him.

Teacher and disciple were like father and son; he knew full well what his disciple desired. Though the True Buddha had decreed their mountain must remain still for now, looking down at the sect disciples below, this was clearly what the masses demanded.

A seven-refined spiritual treasure? Could he not provide one?

He reached out, gently stroking Miaoyin’s head, then withdrew a purple-gold alms bowl and placed it in the disciple’s hands: “Go. Rest assured—I am watching over all.”

Though this seven-refined purple-gold bowl was his personal Buddhist treasure, it was merely an object. Better to give it to his disciple than let it gather dust.

If something went awry, he had already overstepped before; replicating his past actions in Nanping Prefecture would be no great matter.

…

Dozens of lotus thrones shot forth from Xumishan—no fewer than thirty or fifty.

Their grandeur turned the entire sky’s auspicious clouds yellow.

Led by Miaoyin Bodhisattva at the front, countless Golden Body Arhats marched forward in heavy steps, like human beasts of prey, shaking the earth as they surged toward Nanping Prefecture.

Under the Sanxian Sect’s counterattack, the Bodhi Sect had not mustered such a terrifying force in a long time.

The instant Buddhist light once again enveloped Nanping Prefecture, though it was daytime with the sun high overhead, the heavens plunged into a gloomy, murky yellow.

Thick Buddhist clouds rolled like crashing waves, surging forward as if the entire sky had sunk ten thousand zhang, suffocating all beneath it.

From the dense clouds, towering Bodhisattva manifestations gradually appeared, their outlines sharpening, their colossal faces stern and cold, gazing down upon the mortal world.

These terrifying giants tightly encircled Nanping Prefecture, and beneath their feet, fully armed Arhats surged into the city like a flood.

Lotus thrones descended one after another, and every Bodhisattva upon them glared furiously at the great hall within the prefecture.

“...”

Xiang Ming and the others, finally realizing the situation, turned pale, their eyes filled with deep dread.

They had anticipated the Bodhi Sect’s long silence meant they were planning a major move, and knew the monks would likely target Tai Xu, the most prominent figure.

But seeing the sky filled with Buddhist clouds, their hearts still trembled.

Even bullying the few has its limits.

To make such a spectacle—do they truly believe the Sanxian Sect has no one?

Yet their earlier advantage had become their deadliest weakness: the fury ignited by Tai Xu himself had driven his fellow disciples into a bloodlust, allowing them to seize half of Dongzhou—but also forcing them to garrison scattered outposts, leaving them unable to gather quickly.

“Tai Xu, go first!”

The female disciple previously saved gripped her long sword tightly; though her heartbeat thundered in her ears and her cheeks flushed with tension, she stood firm at the hall’s entrance, determined to defend this door to the death.

Xiang Ming and the others said nothing more, all summoning their magic treasures.

After this period of recuperation, they had all regained most of their cultivation.

“You slaughtered so many of our brethren—and now you wish to flee?”

The Bodhisattvas’ expressions darkened, their faces twisting with savagery: “Now that Elder Miaoyin has descended, it is time for you beasts to pay with blood for blood!”

“Tsk.”

Even Miaoyin Bodhisattva was taken aback—he knew his sect had suffered many losses recently, but had not expected the resentment to have grown so thick.

If he could purge this resentment, his reputation would surge again, reaching a point no one could challenge.

Thinking of this, he glanced at the purple-gold bowl in his hand, then turned back to the hall, his voice cold: “The conflict between our two sects should be decided by our own abilities. Our original intent was salvation, yet you have acted with such cruelty, taking on the guise of demons and monsters—do not blame us for slaying demons and subduing evil.”

As his words echoed, several Sanxian Sect disciples turned grim, yet made no argument.

They were long accustomed to these bald monks’ brazen shamelessness.

Before all eyes.

A slender figure stepped slowly from the hall, facing the murky heavens, the looming shadows within the clouds, and the sea of Golden Body Arhats below—alone save for three or five disciples beside him, he appeared profoundly isolated.

“Senior Brother, ignore them. As long as we preserve the green mountains, we’ll never lack firewood.”

The scene before him mirrored that of Senior Brother Chu Xi—only now, it was the Sanxian Sect that held overwhelming strength.

Xiang Ming and the others gripped their weapons, ready to escort Tai Xu out; if they escaped today’s disaster, they too could follow suit and raze these monks’ great temples.

“...”

Shen Yi appeared deaf to all, his gaze fixed solely on the foremost of the Bodhisattvas.

The next instant, he casually drew the Wuwei Sword.

A crisp, ringing sound echoed.

No words were needed—this single motion enraged every Bodhisattva in the sky.

Such arrogance and contempt stirred memories of that day when he slaughtered Nanping—every single monk among the thousand perished.

If they did not shatter this man’s immortal sword and destroy his Dao fruit today, the Bodhi Sect might as well surrender all four continents and withdraw from the great calamity entirely.

“You’re quite like Chu Xi.”

Miaoyin Bodhisattva raised his palm, calming his furious brethren, then smiled faintly: “I hope you retain this pride when you die.”

His confidence came not only from the purple-gold bowl, but also from his master’s promise before departure.

The harder this Tai Xu True Person resisted, the more advantageous it was for him.

In an instant, he swept his hand—and the purple-gold bowl plummeted, no larger than a palm, yet crashing down like three mountains and five peaks simultaneously.

The moment it left his hand, the entire Nanping Prefecture trembled violently.

Before the Sanxian Sect disciples could recover from their fury over the mention of Senior Brother Chu Xi, they instantly felt their Dao fruits shriek in agony.

They had seen Miaoyin fight before—never had he bested Tai Xu, nor even subdued Chu Xi, yet now his power was terrifyingly superior.

Clearly, the Great Freedom Bodhisattva had granted him even greater backing.

“Brothers, avenge our fallen sect members—now is the time.”

Miaoyin Bodhisattva knew this Tai Xu True Person was equally cherished by his sect; his backing could not be weak. Unwilling to be drawn into a prolonged struggle, he whispered a warning as he struck.

Instantly, the surrounding Bodhisattvas and the countless Arhats beneath them all unleashed their Golden Rivers, pouring them all into the bowl.

Xiang Ming and the others, beneath the Buddhist chants, felt their skulls swelling, their souls on the verge of shattering.

At that moment, the dark-robed figure did not retreat or dodge—he stepped calmly forward.

Instantly, the entire Nanping Prefecture ceased trembling, falling into an uncanny stillness.

Several Sanxian Sect disciples blinked in surprise, then their faces filled with shock—this was the Qingyi lineage’s technique. Even without the Wuwei Sword, merely with this Pure Realm, Tai Xu could not only survive the bowl’s crushing force but also shield the entire prefecture.

Such cultivation—among the myriad prodigies who had reached the ninety-nine transformations—could be called supreme!

“...”

The Bodhisattvas also noticed the bowl’s descent slowing, but unlike the Sanxian disciples, they did not look at Shen Yi—they instinctively raised their eyes to the surroundings.

Miaoyin had guessed something—he paused briefly, then his face hardened with resolve.

“No holding back!”

He roared, leading the Bodhisattvas in unleashing every ounce of their Tribulation energy into the bowl.

Simultaneously, a withered giant hand pierced the sky, accompanied by a cold laugh, casually grasping the bowl—and hurled it straight back.

BOOM!

Miaoyin, caught utterly off-guard, was slammed hard against his chest—the force nearly split his body apart, hurling him backward from his lotus throne. Within a breath, his bones shattered, his tendons snapped, his body went limp.

Fortunately, an invisible hand caught him, sparing him from immediate death.

“Gkch… gkch…”

Master Miaoyin twitched slightly; he felt how his master had just dissipated the force against him, yet he couldn’t understand why the elder hadn’t shown himself.

He strained to lift his head and look upward, then his pupils dilated rapidly.

The murky clouds above had somehow cleared again, and an old man riding a cloud gazed calmly at him, while beside him stood another young man, face taut with tension.

And what truly chilled Master Miaoyin—and silenced every monk around him—

was the auspicious clouds that rose one after another behind the old man.

Upon each white cloud stood a Daoist Immortal, until they filled the monks’ entire field of vision.

They exuded celestial grace, their expressions serene.

Compared to these beings, the grand display the Bodhi Sect had so deliberately staged seemed utterly absurd.

“Seventy-Two Caves of Golden Immortals…”

Master Miaoyin finally understood why his master refused to appear—because the man standing before him… was the entire Three Immortals Sect!

He had never dreamed he would one day see so many famed titans at once, not even daring to remove the alms bowl embedded in his breastbone, only trembling as he shut his eyes.

“Old age, I couldn’t fully rein in my power.”

Xuanweizi gazed into the void and chuckled lightly.

Where he looked, not a ripple stirred—the Great Free Bodhisattva hiding there dared not even show his face.

Li Shan exhaled softly and looked down toward the young man before the great hall.

A hint of admiration stirred in his eyes, but no envy.

Under such a barrage of attacks, the sect’s elders had arrived just in time—and witnessed their first disciple standing fearless, even stepping forward to protect his fellow disciples.

This was a tremendous opportunity, but not everyone had the courage to seize it; at least, he himself might not have dared to step forward.

Master Taixu was not alone… at his back stood all the Three Immortals Sect’s Golden Immortals—even if every Great Monk of Dong Xumi, save the First-Rank, had come in person, they would still have to yield.

“Pfft.”

Xuanweizi had no more patience for the cowering bald monk; he cast a sidelong glance toward the great hall below.

Even though his disciple Li Shan stood beside him, as he gazed at the tall, dark-robed Daoist Lord, he could not help but feel a pang of admiration.

What merit did Master Lingxu have, to possess such a disciple?

That calm drawing of the sword just now had revealed the true backbone of the Three Immortals Sect.

Chi Yunzi remained silent, his gaze fixed deeply on Shen Yi.

The other Immortals were filled with awe, but Lingxuzi breathed heavily—he had begged and warned the boy a thousand times not to cause trouble. Though today he had made a grand impression, one misstep could have doomed the entire future of Lingxu’s lineage.

Facing the envious glances of his fellow sect brothers, he could only force a smile, masking his inner displeasure.

“Let’s go take a stroll through Dong Xumi.”

Xuanweizi withdrew his gaze and looked straight into the depths of Dongzhou.

First, a senior monk had acted shamelessly, killing Chu Xi of Chi Yun Cave. Now, mere moments after our arrival in Dongzhou, we witness this scene of many against one.

If we don’t make those monks give an explanation today—to avenge the young Taixu—then we might as well have never come.

Watching his uncles and aunts stride forward with righteous fury, ready to demand justice, Li Shan froze, then glanced sideways at Shen Yi with a strange expression.

The elders… seem to have a slight misunderstanding of the current situation in Dongzhou.

(End of Chapter)