Chapter 395: Four Buddhas Save the World, the Great Calamity Ends!

Everything was exactly as Chen Ku had anticipated.

Beneath the firmament, he stood still, his expression calm and unruffled, as if the impending apocalyptic scene before him had already been rehearsed countless times in his heart.

Foreseeing and witnessing it with one's own eyes are ultimately two different things.

Having lost the supreme divine might sustained by Pangu's Heart, Mount Buzhou at this moment is merely a majestic shell devoid of spirit and soul.

It cannot withstand a single blow.

Moreover, the ancestral witches Di Jiang and Zhu Rong, whose minds have long been corroded by killing aura, have already gone completely mad with slaughter.

In their eyes there is no longer heaven and earth, no longer all beings; only the most primal, pure desire for destruction remains.

This strike drained their last divine power and also tolled the death knell of the Primordial Wilds.

Its consequence is irreversible.

Boom—

That was not a sound.

Sound cannot describe even a fraction of it.

It was a reverberation that pierced the river of time and space, transmitted from antiquity to the future, exploding directly in the deepest part of every living being's soul and spirit.

There was no deafening roar, only an absolute silence.

The sense of hearing was instantly stripped away.

Immediately following came an irrepressible tearing sensation from deep within the soul and spirit.

Every hair on the bodies of all beings stood on end, as if billions of steel needles were pricking inside their skulls.

Their livers and gallbladders felt as if they were about to burst—this is no mere description.

Some beings with slightly weaker cultivation had their organs turn into bloody pulp inside their bodies, and what poured out of their seven apertures was not blood but shattered viscera.

The divine mountain that once propped up heaven and earth, towering to an immeasurable height, now leans toward all beings in a decisive posture.

Crack!

A fissure spread from the mountain's base to its summit.

That crack was wider than the deepest canyon on the Primordial Wilds, and within it surged not rock but fragments of the shattered Great Dao's laws, flashing with an eerie light that made the heart palpitate.

The mountain's body was splitting apart.

One section.

Another section.

Each fragment of the shattered mountain was comparable to a small world, carrying an overwhelming power capable of crushing ages, transforming into apocalyptic molten fire that slammed down furiously upon the Primordial Wilds.

It fell.

The first mountain fragment smashed onto the ground.

There was no loud noise, no dust.

The laws and space of that region were directly pierced through.

The earth silently collapsed, and a pitch-black abyss, bottomless and with edges smooth as a mirror, appeared out of nowhere, frantically devouring everything around it—light, spiritual energy, even time.

It was only a brief moment.

On the Primordial Wilds' land, it was already riddled with a thousand wounds and holes.

One deep pit after another, one abyss after another, crisscrossed like ferocious scars across the earth, shocking to behold.

This is merely the beginning.

As the main body of Mount Buzhou completely fractured,

the next instant, all beings' bodies jerked violently, and the ground beneath their feet transmitted a maddening sense of distortion.

It was not that they were affected by the calamity's light.

Rather, the entire heaven and earth were trembling.

It was the foundation of this great cosmos that had been shaken.

Countless gazes were drawn by an irresistible force, looking up in horror.

All they saw was that the once boundless, vast azure firmament, the place acclaimed as the "Heaven's Dome," now displayed a gaping hole so huge it was unimaginable.

A wound that was continually expanding, ferocious in appearance.

Rushing…

Pouring down from that gap was not rain, nor starlight.

It was the Nine Heavens Weak Water.

That legendary forbidden water, which even a feather cannot float upon and can dissolve all things, now transformed into a torrent spanning the heavens, vast and endless.

Its momentum was unstoppable.

Its power submerged the heavens.

Wherever the Weak Water passed, space dissolved, laws were obliterated, and all things returned to nothingness.

Heaven collapsed in the northwest, the earth sank in the southeast!

At this moment, the horror of the ultimate war between witches and demons was no longer confined to the battlefield; it spread in the most brutal, merciless way to every corner of the Primordial Wilds' heaven and earth.

Laws shattered.

Order fell into chaos!

Vast expanses of calamity light still lingered and rose, seeping out from the cracks in the shattered heaven and earth; that was the killing aura accumulated over hundreds of millions of years by the Great Calamity, a tremendous terror capable of making even a Semi-Saint change countenance.

Earth.

Water.

Fire.

Wind.

The four basic elements that constitute the world have lost their order's restraint and begun to frenziedly reenact the chaotic scene of the world's creation.

The earth is sinking, turning into a surging sea of magma.

The void is collapsing, revealing the icy, dead chaos behind it.

In an instant, let alone those ordinary beings struggling to survive.

Even those lofty Great Luo Golden Immortals who claim invincibility through myriad calamities, and even the Quasi-Sage mighty ones who look down on all beings, feel only a chill rushing from their tailbone to the crown of their head.

Souls tremble, Dao hearts shatter.

This is terror springing from the source of life, the irresistible despair faced when the world ends.

"Not good!"

A Quasi-Sage mighty one roared in despair, his Dao field instantly reduced to nothing under the scouring of the Weak Water, his eons of effort burned to ashes.

"This heaven and earth... is about to collapse!"

"Heavens! The final war of the Wu and Yao, the Wu and Yao Great Calamity... actually would bring about such horrendous consequences!"

"Nine Heavens Weak Water! That's the Nine Heavens Weak Water! Once it floods the land, all beings will have body and spirit destroyed, with no chance of reincarnation!"

Moreover, the reenacted power of earth, water, fire, and wind is a force we cannot possibly dispel!

"Fall back!"

"Fall back!"

"Retreat to the Dao field, activate the great formation! No! Even the Dao field cannot stop it!"

"Flee! Leave this heaven and earth! Otherwise, once drawn in, the consequence will be eternal calamity!"

Such cries, roars, and wails echoed between the shattered heaven and earth, yet were instantly swallowed by the world-destroying roar.

Countless figures no longer cared for face or doctrine.

They tore the void, burned their essence blood, unleashed secret escape arts pressed at the bottom of the chest, and fled in desperation toward the edge of the Primordial Heaven and Earth.

Trying to distance themselves from this doomed homeland to avoid the all-consuming calamity.

However, at this very moment.

Heaven collapsed, earth sank; in the dire apocalypse where myriad spirits wailed, there was not the slightest omen.

Above the Nine Heavens, a beam of light.

A streak of pure, ineffable golden divine light suddenly appeared.

This light did not rend the darkness; it directly turned the darkness and chaos itself into its backdrop.

Billions of feet of Buddha light suffused like lapis lazuli pure fire, exploding forth.

In an instant, the golden rays pierced the collapsing Nine Heavens and the sinking Ten Earths, illuminating the entire Primordial Heaven and Earth reduced to ruins with blinding brilliance.

The light was too blazing, causing every still-breathing being to shed blood tears, unable to gaze upon it.

Within the boundless falling Buddha light, endless golden swastika characters manifested.

Each contains the supreme profundity of suppression, purification, and transcendence, hovering in the void, rising and falling with an invisible rhythm, ineffably mysterious.

At the same time.

A vast, unparalleled Buddhist chant resonated.

The sound initially heard was deep and heavy, as if originating from the universe's inception, yet in the next instant it fell with perfect clarity into the depths of every being's soul.

It was not heard through the ears, but rang directly in the heart.

Vast, compassionate, solemn.

Under this power's cleansing, a peaceful, tranquil holy majesty began to spread, opposing the violent force that would destroy heaven and earth.

An inconceivable scene occurred.

The earth, water, fire, and wind that had driven the world back into chaos saw their violent evolution speed curbed, weakened by more than a fraction.

The Weak Water pouring down from the breach in the Nine Heavens, capable of submerging and melting everything, saw its surge hindered, becoming sluggish.

In the depths of despair, a ray of light shone in.

"This... this is..."

"Buddha light! It is the Buddhist Sect! The Buddhist Sect's supreme power has manifested!"

A Demon Race mighty one, his body drenched in blood, half eroded by chaotic qi, exerted his last strength to emit a hoarse roar.

His voice was filled with disbelief at having survived the calamity.

"Hiss... the might of the Buddhist Sect can actually intervene in such a world-ending catastrophe? This... this is salvation?!"

"No doubt! I recall: at the end of the ancient Wu and Yao war, resentment filled heaven and earth, the Sea of Blood raged; it was the Buddhist Sect's disciples who appeared in the world, walking the earth, chanting scriptures day and night, salvaging countless vengeful souls, purifying the resentment that would make even sages frown."

"I also recall! The Buddhist Sect has always held compassion as its creed, taking the salvation of all beings as its duty!"

"Surely now, the Buddhist Sect's venerable forefathers, unable to bear seeing us suffer this undeserved disaster, have finally broken their seclusion and boldly acted to turn the tide!"

In the lifeless heaven and earth, a shout like mountains and seas erupted instantly.

Countless beings awakened from the numbness of awaiting death, lifted their heads, gazed upon the golden sky that had dispelled the apocalyptic gloom, and burst into fervent joy.

We, we are saved!

Indeed!

Amidst these voices mixed with excitement, anticipation, and ecstatic cheers, at the center of the vast ocean of Buddha light, the radiance began to contract and condense.

Four figures stepped forth from the brightest part of the light.

They thus manifested, towering and unmatched, their aura suppressing the ages, their bearing peerless.

The two leading figures: one bore a countenance of anguish, as if carrying all the world's sorrow; the other held a seven-colored precious tree, his expression solemn.

They were precisely the Two Saints of the Western Sect, Jieyin and Zhunti!

Behind them followed two more figures.

One had an ethereal aura, seeming neither bitter nor not bitter; he was the disciple of the Two Saints, Chen Ku.

The last person was an old man in a red robe, who ought to have appeared as the jovial Blessing-and-Virtue True Immortal, yet his face was now covered in frost.

Translation: "And the last person was an old man wearing a red robe, who should have had the smiling appearance of a Blessing and Virtue True Immortal, but now his face was full of icy chill."

We need to keep it concise but faithful. Let's produce: "And the last person was an old man in a red robe, who should have had the smiling mien of a Blessing-and-Virtue True Immortal, but now his face was frosty."

Check: "Blessing-and-Virtue True Immortal" is "Blessing-and-Virtue True Immortal". We'll keep hyphenated.

Hong Yun!

Three Sages and One Primordial Unity!

Such a mighty presence, how magnificent! Such a formation, how it shakes ancient and modern!

However, the four who had appeared lacked any joy at the advent of a savior.

Jieyin, Zhunti, and Hong Yun—their faces were all extremely solemn.

Their gazes even revealed a hint that they themselves had not noticed... reluctance and shock.

Wherever their eyes reached, straining their vision, the sight that met them shocked even those whose minds were as still as an ancient well.

Heaven and earth could no longer be called heaven and earth.

That was a true Shura field, woven of blood and fire.

The heavens shattered, the earth sank.

Countless stars turned into burning meteors, dragging long tails of flame as they crashed down, gouging bottomless scars across the land.

The Weak Water flowed backward, chaotic qi raged, reducing all material things to their most primal particles.

Those survivors of the earlier final battle between the Wu and Yao clans—the Great Luo Golden Immortals, even quasi-sage level beings—are now being swept up in this even more terrifying calamity.

Their supernatural powers and magic treasures, before this true might of heaven and earth, were as fragile as paper.

A demon god who had shaken the Primordial Wasteland had its flesh cut into countless pieces by spatial rifts; its primordial spirit, just leaving the body, was instantly obliterated by chaotic qi.

A Wu Clan Grand Witch, who stood between heaven and earth, swung his fists trying to prop up the sky, but was drenched by the pouring Weak Water, vanishing without even a cry.

Body and Dao erased, not a trace remained.

As for them, perhaps one could say that, having once stirred the Great Calamity and caused the imbalance of heaven and earth, they now bear karmic bonds and deserve their fate.

But.

What about the innocent beings?

A human tribe, flung into the air by the violent collision of continental plates, then plunged into the endless abyss amidst the wails of countless beings.

A peaceful mountain range, with countless plant and animal spirits, beasts and birds that had just awakened spiritual awareness and had not yet grasped the world's vastness, was instantly turned to charcoal by a bolt of earth-fire lava falling from the heavens.

Wails, screams, desperate cries for help...

Countless voices intertwined, forming the most mournful elegy between heaven and earth.

These scenes were too horrifying, too tragic.

Even beings such as Jieyin, Zhunti, and Hong Yun could not fathom the heavenly secrets, nor calculate these changes.

Gong Gong's fury against Mount Buzhou broke the Heavenly Pillar, causing heaven and earth to collapse; in their calculations, though it was a calamity, it had not yet reached such a world-ending extent.

Surely, among this, there are deeper variables unknown to them.

Thus, this outcome also exceeded their expectations.

On the other side, Chen Ku felt nothing in particular.

Such an apocalyptic scene did not stir even a ripple in his heart, as still as an ancient well.

Everything, had been foreseen.

His Daoist robe fluttered in the gale of shattered void, yet around him arose a pure land where no law could intrude.

Turbid waves surged to the heavens, the destructive aura scouring every inch of the Primordial Wasteland, yet it bypassed the patch of ground where he stood.

His gaze was like a torch.

This was no metaphor; his eyes truly held two balls of golden flame, burning through the layers of chaotic laws, scanning the battlefield reduced to utter ruin.

He missed not the slightest trace of breath.

Whether it was the unwilling roar of the strong or the desperate wail of the weak, all flowed through his divine sense, only to be instantly filtered out.

He was searching.

Searching for that point, destined to remain amid endless destruction, a faint glimmer.

Just a moment.

His visage, as tranquil as an age-old god-Buddha, changed for the first time.

Not moved, not startled, but a focus like locking onto prey.

Here!

His voice was not loud, yet it carried an indisputable will, piercing the tremendous roar of heaven collapsing and earth splitting.

His words had not yet fallen.

Chen Ku acted directly.

No earth-shaking opening stance, no intricate profound formula.

He simply extended his right palm calmly.

A hand with distinct joints, warm and smooth like jade, yet seeming able to grasp the three thousand worlds.

Buzz—

As his palm extended, boundless Buddha light burst forth from his palm.

That light was not blinding gold, but a lapis hue brimming with endless vitality and compassion—warm, serene, carrying the pure aura of a newborn universe.

Wherever the Buddha light reached, the raging earth, water, fire, and wind stalled.

The turbulent energy torrents, as if meeting an insurmountable dam, instantly became docile.

The light, at a speed transcending time and space, precisely shot toward a corner of the battlefield.

There, countless fragments of shattered souls were torn and ground by the heavenly disaster storm, reduced to primal void.

Among those countless fragments, there was a mote of light, like a speck of dust, flickering in and out, so fragile it seemed it would vanish in the next instant.

That was Fuxi's last thread of life.

A faint true spirit.

Buddha light spread like a net, yet without a hint of killing intent, gently enveloping down, separating that point of true spirit from the destructive frenzy.

In the blink of an eye, that true spirit was seized in his palm.

Chen Ku's five fingers slowly closed, but he did not clench tightly; instead, he formed a subtle cavity.

His palm became a small world; the rich Buddha light turned into the purest source of life, continually washing and nurturing that true spirit which could dissipate at any moment.

The point of light gradually stabilized in the Buddha light, no longer flickering.

Nothing else.

Chen Ku did not forget this.

This not only concerns whether the human race will prosper in the future, but also involves a great favor owed to Nüwa.

The favor of a sage, the weight of karma, is enough to crush an innate great power.

Chen Ku, however, regarded it calmly.

By this point, Fuxi was considered thoroughly preserved, not completely exterminated in this cataclysm.

Upon thinking this, Chen Ku looked around again.

This time, his divine sense was no longer a carpet-like search, but with a clear target, sweeping over the places where those once-invincible ancestral witches had fallen.

Dijiang's spatial divine powers, Zhu Rong's world-destroying divine fire, Gong Gong's sky-flooding waters...

The remnants of these powers still trembled in the void, yet had lost their master.

His divine sense repeatedly swept the battlefield, meticulously, not letting even the tremor of a speck of dust go unnoticed.

None.

Nothing at all.

There was no true spirit of Dijiang, no remnant soul of Zhu Rong, not even a trace of the ancestral witches' source imprint left behind.

"Are they completely scattered in soul and spirit, or..."

Chen Ku muttered to himself.

His gaze pierced through the endless spatial rifts, crossed the wailing primordial land, and peered deep into the depths of the Netherworld Sea of Blood, where the six paths of reincarnation lie.

The direction of the Underworld.

The twelve ancestral witches do not cultivate the primordial spirit; this is the consensus of the primordial era.

But the Pangu bloodline is so mighty that even if the physical body perishes, there should not be such a clean disappearance; there ought to be souls or spirits lingering, wandering between heaven and earth.

But now, in this world, there is no trace of them left.

In Chen Ku's view, the only explanation is that, in the unseen, the one who embodies reincarnation, Pingxin, also intervened.

In the past, they ultimately shared sibling affection.

She perhaps could not stop her brothers' fate, but after their fall, she could preserve for them the last trace of thought.

This is also reasonable.

Afterward, Chen Ku did not think further.

Everyone has their own Dao, their own choices, and their own karma.

By safeguarding Fuxi's true spirit, he has fulfilled the bond between humanity and Nüwa.

Now, it is also time to deal with the catastrophe in this shattered world.

He withdrew his gaze toward the Underworld, lowered his eyes again, and looked at the scarred world beneath his feet.

The Nine Heavens' Weak Water still pours down from the cracks in the firmament, corroding all things.

The collision and tearing of the earth's plates spew forth heavenly fire that burns the sky and boils the sea.

The destructive gale is strong enough to scatter the physical body of a Golden Immortal of the Great Luo.

"Palm Buddha Kingdom!"

With a thought.

Chen Ku raised his palm again.

This time, it was no longer the careful grasping of a true spirit, but the uplifting of the grandeur and solemnity of three thousand worlds.

Instantly, a boundless pure land manifested, with his palm as the origin, bursting forth.

Boom!

The expansion speed of the Buddha Kingdom's pure land surpassed light, surpassed spacetime, surpassed imagination.

Not comparable to the past.

Chen Ku's Palm Buddha Kingdom technique is no longer its initial form; having been nurtured by endless worlds beyond Chaos, it has grown into a true divine kingdom spanning hundreds of millions of miles.

As soon as it manifested, the fundamental tone of the entire heaven and earth was instantly rewritten.

The aura of destruction, violence, and despair was forcibly purified and expelled by a supreme, magnificent holy light.

Above the firmament, there are no longer black cracks and weak water, but golden seas of clouds and glazed heavenly domes.

On the earth, there is no longer lava and flood, but golden lotuses and bodhi holy trees growing.

Moreover, within the Buddha Kingdom's pure land, one Buddha after another emerged from the void, standing between heaven and earth.

Among them, there are the Buddhist protectors he first enlightened, bearing the aura of a Great Luo Golden Immortal, with solemn and dignified appearances.

Furthermore, there are the Chaos demon gods of Mixed Yuan Great Luo Golden Immortal level that he salvaged from beyond Chaos.

Those beings, some with three heads and six arms, eyes wide open in anger, their bodies ablaze with fire that subdues demons.

Others have kind eyes and benevolent faces, holding a pure vase, from which willow branches sprinkle drops of sweet dew.

Some sit cross-legged, chanting the true sutras, each emitting a golden swastika Buddha seal from their mouth, imprinting in the void to suppress chaotic laws.

But without exception, at this moment, these Buddhas all stand in the high heavens, their aura towering, their divine radiance vast across hundreds of millions of miles.

Each Buddha represents a suppressed Great Dao.

Each divine radiance is a mighty power capable of purifying an entire world.

Under this ineffably mighty pressure, the originally surging and endless Nine Heavens Weak Water, which seemed about to flood the entire Primordial Wasteland, visibly calmed its raging torrent.

The surging waves gradually grew calm, and their dark hue was illuminated by the Buddha-light into gold.

The earth‑splitting ground fire, the void‑burning gale, and the chaotic turmoil of earth, water, fire, and wind—these terrifying sights also seemed to have been put on pause.

The flames solidified into lustrous crystal.

The storm froze into a still scroll.

The process of the world's destruction was forcibly halted by a power even greater and more unreasonable.

Myriad Buddhas have appeared!

At that moment, the two words "salvation" were no longer an empty, illusory aspiration.

It took concrete form in the hearts of all beings.

The Primordial Wasteland shattered, and heaven and earth cried out in sorrow.

Countless surviving spirits huddled on the shattered continental fragments, trembling, watching helplessly as the apocalyptic calamity light devoured everything.

Just then, a figure stepped forward.

Chen Ku.

He merely stood there, and myriad laws bowed before him.

He merely raised one hand, and the boundless killing aura of the Great Calamity suddenly stalled.

This hand severed destruction.

This hand froze the end.

Countless mighty beings hidden in the Cave‑Heaven Blessed Land, clinging to life, swept the scene with their divine sense, and without exception their minds and souls were violently shaken.

What did they see?

Was that a power attainable by human strength?

Was that a means even sages dared to imagine?

The endless sorrow on Jieyin the Daoist's face faded away, a gleam of golden Buddha-light bursting from deep within his eyes, revealing great joy and great ease.

Zhunti the Daoist's hand held the Seven‑Treasure Wondrous Tree, which swayed gently; what fell was no longer extinction, but brilliant vitality.

He smiled.

That eternally unchanging solemn countenance, for the first time, showed such pure delight.

Hongyun, the Primordial Wasteland's first kind‑hearted elder, likewise revealed a strange light in his eyes, exhaled a long‑held breath of pent‑up qi, and felt his whole body relax.

The three exchanged a glance and immediately understood Chen Ku's intent.

What grandeur this is.

What opportunity this is.

"Replace Heaven and Earth!"

A single Daoist shout rang out—not from one mouth, but from the resonance of three wills, echoing throughout the universe.

Jieyin, Zhunti, and Hongyun—the Three Saints—also acted in kind.

They were no longer merely making repairs; instead, they employed supreme Buddhist law to unleash the ultimate divine art of "Replace Heaven and Earth," a supreme ability that reverses the cosmos.

Boom—

The entire universe trembled, emitting a groan as if unable to bear the weight.

Behold, the rivers of destruction flowing through the void's fissures were seized by an invisible mighty force and violently reversed!

The river water flowed backward, scouring not the land, but time and space itself.

They flowed back to the universe's origin, re‑bonding and restoring the shattered dimensions of the void.

Wave after wave of chaotic qi, heavy enough to crush a quasi‑sage's form, rose from the cracks of heaven and earth.

They are the world's "impurities," the source of destruction.

Yet now, an invisible great hand seized them, forcibly tearing them from heaven and earth and flinging them back beyond the Chaos realm.

The world's breath grew smooth.

Those shattered laws were originally scattered starlight, dim and dark.

Yet now, under the universal shining of the Buddha‑light, they were drawn, woven, and remolded strand by strand of golden thread.

The chains of order, link by link, once again firmly bound the entire Primordial Wasteland world.

Chaos thus subsided.

As far as the eye could see, the corpses of the two witch‑and‑demon clans lay piled like mountains, their resentment soaring to the heavens.

But in the next instant, golden Buddha‑fire ignited from the void and fell upon those corpses.

No screams, no struggle.

One by one, the hideous corpses turned into specks of light in that gentle flame, vanishing into nothing.

Their lingering souls—those unwilling, violent, and confused fragments—were then guided by a soft golden light.

A path to the Netherworld was laid out in the void.

Myriad billions of souls converged into a river of light, sinking into the Underworld—or, entering the newly established, still‑nascent cycle of rebirth.

Past karma has vanished today.

Under such astonishing means, the boundless calamity light that shrouded heaven and earth, like ice under a blazing sun, swiftly dissipated.

It ceased to exist.

Within the vast expanse of heaven and earth, the suffocating aura of blood and destruction gradually faded.

The sky regained its clear, bright hue.

The land was no longer a scene of utter ruin, a desolate waste.

Although still barren, there is now a possibility of new life.

Looking at this scene, the fortunate survivors among all beings have long lost the ability to think.

Their minds are completely blank.

In their hearts, only those four figures standing between heaven and earth remain.

How terrible was that previous catastrophe?

It is a despair that even saints must retreat from, and quasi-saints fall like ants.

They have personally experienced it.

Therefore, they can better understand just how important the Four Buddhas' act of saving the world is at this moment.

This is not salvation.

This is rebirth.

This gives all beings another path to life, and gives this world another chance.

An old cultivator who had lived for several aeons threw away the spirit treasure long sword that had accompanied him his whole life, his knees went weak, and he fell heavily to his knees on the ground.

He could say nothing, only knocking his head to the ground, old tears streaming.

Esteemed predecessors of the Buddhist Sect, save all beings from water and fire!

A Demon Race Great Saint, his body drenched in blood, half of his body shattered, yet now he bows deeply toward the West.

His voice was hoarse, yet filled with endless devotion.

Such great righteousness, we cultivators shall remember it forever!

A chieftain of a human tribe embraced his surviving grandson, tears and snot smeared his face, yet he smiled exceedingly brightly.

Good, great!

"We... we finally have a place to dwell again!"

"Heavens, this time, we billions of sentient beings, truly are survivors after the calamity..."

One voice after another rang out.

From a corner, to a continent.

From a continent, to the entire wilderness.

Finally, they converged into a torrent that echoed through heaven and earth.

We bow in gratitude to the Buddhist predecessors.

Thanks to the compassion of the Buddhist gate.

Sentient beings' hearts still trembled with lingering fear, yet they could not hide their ecstatic joy.

They knelt down in worship.

They knelt from the heart.

Even those surviving quasi-sage powerhouses, those who once overlooked an era, lofty existences, now set aside all their pride.

They gazed upon the renewed heaven and earth, felt the fresh flow of spiritual energy, and toward those four figures, slowly, solemnly, bent their knees.

This bow is for themselves.

It is also for their disciples and clans behind them.

In an instant, an indescribable change arose in the void.

A profound and mysterious power was born from the kowtow and gratitude of every true spirit and every sentient being.

That is qi.

Golden.

Pure gold.

Vast as an abyss, mighty as a river of stars, the qi rose from all directions of the wilderness and gathered.

They converged in the void into golden divine dragons, which ultimately intertwined above the heads of Chen Ku and the three others into an indescribable canopy of merit qi.

The canopy poured down myriad strands of auspicious qi, continuously pouring into the western lands.

Mount Sumeru rumbled.

The Eight Treasures Merit Pond boiled.

The entire Western Buddhist gate, under this massive influx of qi, burst forth with unprecedented brilliant light.

Without a doubt.

On this day, the name of the Buddhist gate echoed throughout the wilderness.

On this day, the Buddhist gate's reputation leapt again, reaching an unprecedented peak of prosperity.

Kunlun Mountain, inside the Jade Void Palace.

Dead silence.

A deathly silence capable of shattering the Dao-heart of a Golden Immortal of the Great Luo now enveloped this sage's dojo.

The Three Pure Saints sat side by side on a cloud bed, their gazes piercing the thirty-three heavens, fixedly staring at the wilderness land being purified by endless Buddha-light.

The auspicious clouds surrounding Yuanshi first showed signs of instability, flickering uncertainly.

That face, usually as calm as an ancient well, now revealed bulging veins and a twisted expression.

"Damn it!"

A repressed, extreme low growl squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Truly damn it!"

Boom!

The cloud bed beneath him was actually shaken by this unconscious leakage of a trace of sage's wrath, producing a fine crack.

"Those Chen Ku and company, what a deep scheme they have!"

Yuanshi could no longer maintain the composure of a sage; he rose abruptly, flicked his sleeves, and shouted angrily.

"Heaven and earth suffer this Great Calamity, myriad beings scorched, yet the Buddhist sect fares well, using it as a stepping stone to steal boundless merit and reap the fortune of heaven and earth!"

His voice echoed in the vast Jade Void Palace, filled with reluctance and frenzied rage.

Jealousy had long since scorched the features of this Primordial Sect's sage lord beyond recognition.

Yet in response, only a deeper silence met him.

Taishang Laojun lowered his gaze, seeming to have entered meditation; in the depths of his timeless eyes, a flicker of helplessness and desolation flashed and vanished.

He understood everything.

But understanding, what could it change?

Tongtian leaned against the other side, one hand resting on his knee, the other unconsciously rubbing the scabbard of his Qingping Sword.

His fingertips didn't even touch the hilt.

This Jie Sect sage, normally fierce with battle spirit, now had no desire even to draw his sword.

Because they all knew it full well.

This is not a scheme.

No matter how profound Chen Ku's strength, it was impossible for him to scheme a Great Calamity that swept the entire primordial wilderness.

Human strength has its limits.

Sages are no exception.

This is fundamentally not a scheme, but an open and aboveboard scheme, a great opportunity and fortune unique to the Buddhist sect!

When the Mahayana Buddhist doctrine of "saving all beings" echoed through heaven and earth, and the vow to save the world turned into tangible Buddhist light showering the land, the Buddhist sect gained a power no other Dao could match.

The power to save the world.

Such power is the favor of the Heavenly Dao's great trend, and the bolstering of beings' wishes.

In this, the Three Pure Ones cannot even catch a glimpse of their dust.

Nor can they imitate it.

Ask them to make a grand vow to save all beings?

The Primordial Sect values innate aptitude and follows heaven's course.

The Jie Sect teaches without discrimination, seeking only a sliver of survival.

The Ren Sect practices non-action, teaching and transforming rulers.

Their very Dao, at its root, is separated from the two characters "saving the world" by a chasm as vast as heaven and earth.

A long time passed.

Tongtian's rubbing of the sword scabbard stopped; he lifted his head, his gaze sweeping over Yuanshi and finally resting on the expanse of primordial wilderness bathed in Buddhist light.

His voice carried an unprecedented weight.

"From now on, heaven and earth will not perish, and the Buddhist sect will be immortal."

He paused, each word like an ancient divine mountain crashing hard into the Hall of the Three Pure Ones, and into the hearts of Yuanshi and Laozi.

"It will become the true foremost Dao of heaven and earth."

Tongtian added another sentence, as if speaking to himself, as if stating a bloody fact they were unwilling to accept.

"We... can no longer compare ourselves to it."

As his words fell, Yuanshi's outward anger instantly extinguished, replaced by a deep-seated coldness and repression.

Within the Hall of the Three Pure Ones, the atmosphere just held open by anger was again filled with endless oppression, even more stifling and suffocating than before.

……

Beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens, in Tai Su Heaven, lies the Palace of Nüwa.

The palace gates are cold and quiet, all sounds stilled.

Nüwa stands alone in the hall.

Her gaze is somewhat vacant, somewhat dazed, staring blankly into the void as if trying to pierce endless time and space to see that brutal battlefield.

"Older brother..."

A murmur barely audible escaped her lips, trembling slightly.

She is, after all, a sage.

Immortal and undying, a sage who overlooks the turning of ages.

Yet at this moment, even as mighty as Nüwa, she cannot determine whether her elder brother Fuxi has utterly perished in body and Dao, or... still retains a faint thread of life.

The lethal aura of the prior Great Calamity was too terrifying, already condensing into a substantive scarlet shroud that blocked all inquiry and twisted every heavenly secret.

Even a sage's perception, before that shroud, encountered an unprecedented obstruction.

She could see nothing, sense nothing.

Just as her spirit was about to be consumed by endless darkness, a slash of golden light tore through the scarlet shroud.

She saw it.

She saw Chen Ku's figure, and saw the vast Buddhist army.

In that instant, Nüwa's tightly wound spirit relaxed for no reason.

A breath of pent-up frustration in her chest also quietly eased out.

She recalled the divine thought transmission she had previously unleashed at great cost, heedless of consequence.

She also recalled that at this very moment, Chen Ku had indeed kept his promise and intervened.

She did not know when it began, but her trust in that man had reached a point utterly without cause.

It seemed that as soon as he appeared, every peril would be readily resolved.

Surely... he must have a way to safeguard her elder brother Fuxi.

There must be.

Just then, as Nüwa's heart and mind steadied slightly, her delicate body shuddered violently.

Her face changed abruptly.

Her pair of dazed, absolutely beautiful eyes suddenly blazed, and her piercing gaze instantly pierced the Wa Huang Palace, shooting toward the source of the Heavenly Dao in the vague beyond.

At this very moment!

The force of the Heavenly Dao's shackles, which had bound her like a shadow for hundreds of millions of years, preventing her from stepping even a single step out of the Wa Huang Palace, suddenly vanished like smoke and clouds!

It disappeared without a trace.

The Witch-Demon Final War has ended.

The ending is settled.

Even if she were to be born now, she could no longer change anything.

Therefore, the Heavenly Dao lifted its confinement upon her.

She, was free.

However, before Nüwa could recover from this sudden freedom,

Boom—

In the depths of her sea of consciousness, the vast space belonging to the sage's primordial spirit suddenly underwent a violent tremor.

A vast, ancient, boundless, inexplicable sensation descended without warning, resonating strongly with her sage's primordial spirit.

It was neither anyone's voice transmission nor anyone's will.

That is Heaven's Mandate! That is destiny! It is the duty innate to her as a sage!

Those two words turned into Heavenly Dao runes, deeply etched into the deepest part of her consciousness.

"Mending the Heavens…"

"Saving the World…"

Exactly.

The heavenly numbers and great trends flow; the fate of the myriad spirits of the Primordial Wilderness has long been written by that invisible hand.

Nüwa, as a sage, could perceive more clearly the will descending from the unseen.

The mission of shaping humans from clay has already been accomplished.

But her Heavenly Mandate has not ended here.

The calamitous fire of the Witch-Demon Final War burned Mount Buzhou to ashes and tore apart this firmament.

Heaven and earth shattered, myriad paths wailed in sorrow.

Mending the Heavens.

These two characters, like a brand, were deeply engraved upon her sage's soul.

Everything became exceedingly clear.

The Five-Colored Divine Stone nurtured between heaven and earth is a rare treasure of the world, containing the primordial power of the five elements from the dawn of creation.

Gathering this stone and refining it with a sage's power can mend the fissure of heaven.

This is the path the Heavenly Dao has planned for her.

Nüwa gradually came to understand.

Previously, the will of the Heavenly Dao bound her like shackles, preventing her from intervening in the Witch-Demon War, forcing her to watch countless beings suffer, and she indeed harbored a lingering resentment.

That was a profound sense of helplessness, being the mother of creation yet unable to protect her own people.

But she is ultimately a sage of the Heavenly Dao.

She understood that the mandate to mend the heavens is the prevailing trend, the sole means to preserve this world's existence.

This is Heaven's Mandate, which cannot be violated, nor should it be.

Thinking of this, the faint resentment surrounding Nüwa dissipated, replaced by a sage's resolute compassion.

She rose from her cloud bed, saintly might flowing, about to step out of the Wa Huang Heaven, to the earth above, to gather the Five-Colored Divine Stone in response to Heaven's Mandate.

However, at the very instant her lotus feet were about to move,

Her gaze unconsciously turned again to the fractured space between heaven and earth, landing upon Chen Ku and the others.

Just a single glance.

Nüwa's motion halted.

In her tranquil, waveless sage's eyes, for the first time rose an indescribable bewilderment, her expression turning exceedingly strange.

"This…"

A soft "ye" escaped her lips, carrying an astonishment even she herself had not noticed.

"Chen Ku, my disciple-nephew… are you going to act on behalf of this palace?!"

……

Just as Nüwa had sensed.

At this moment, the Primordial Wilderness lies in utter chaos.

Above the firmament, a gigantic black rift looms hideous and terrifying, as chaotic qi pours down like a waterfall, eroding everything between heaven and earth.

Upon the earth, mountains and rivers rupture, lava rages wildly, and cries of sorrow fill the wilderness.

Chen Ku, the Three Pure Ones, Jieyin, Zhunti, and the Six Paths figures stand like pillars propping up the heavens, stationed between heaven and earth, using their supreme cultivations to forcibly suppress this world on the verge of collapse.

The surviving masses, after countless kalpas, prostrate themselves on the ground, bowing toward them, their grateful, tearful worship converging into an ocean of faith.

Yet Chen Ku and his four companions paid no heed to this thunderous acclaim.

Their expressions were grave to the extreme.

This matter is far from over.

All of this now is merely a false peace forcibly propped up by the overwhelming magical power of the Three Saints and Chen Ku, a Mixed Yuan Great Luo Golden Immortal.

This heaven has already died.

They can hold on for a while, but not forever.

Once their magical power is exhausted, the entire Primordial World will utterly fall into Chaos, and nothing will remain.

Especially Chen Ku.

He perceives more heavenly secrets than the Three Pure Ones Saints; these memories from later ages surge incessantly in his mind, making his thoughts extraordinarily complex.

Within the heavenly numbers, there is indeed Nüwa's act of mending the heavens.

Using the Five-Colored Stone to mend the heavens, she saved the myriad beings from water and fire, gaining boundless merit.

This was originally a fixed script.

But...

Is using the Five-Colored Stone to mend the heavens truly the best choice?!

Once this thought arose, it spread like madly growing vines, instantly entwining his entire mind.

Chen Ku harbored great doubts about this.

He clearly remembered that, in the original heavenly numbers' course, although Nüwa's mending of the heavens succeeded, it was a pyrrhic victory.

Since then, the Primordial World's heaven-earth embryonic membrane has been damaged, and its origin has been lost.

The innate spiritual qi filling heaven and earth will completely dissipate, to be replaced by acquired turbid qi.

An era will thus come to an end.

Afterward, beings cultivating will have no smooth path to the heavens; spiritual qi will be thin, the laws incomplete, and efforts will yield half the result for double the work.

Not to mention attaining the Dao and becoming a Mixed Yuan immortal, even a Great Luo Golden Immortal will become an unattainable legend.

The upper limit of the Primordial World has been permanently lowered.

Can this be changed?!

Chen Ku's eyes drooped, his gaze seeming to pierce endless space, seeing the future age of dharma decline where spiritual qi is exhausted.

He did not wish to see such a future.

He did not wish to see the martial way he himself founded wither away due to the shackles of spiritual qi.

His thoughts collided in the flash of flint; countless possibilities were contemplated by him, then each one rejected.

After a long while.

His tightly furrowed brow suddenly relaxed, and his downcast eyes abruptly lifted.

A blinding light burst forth from the depths of his pupils, as if it could pierce past, present, and future.

He thought of it!

He turned his palm over.

There was no earth-shaking might, only a few points of warm luster quietly appearing in his palm.

That luster was not dazzling, yet it contained an indescribable weight and sanctity.

Several round beads spun and bobbed on his palm.

The beads were entirely Xuanhuang, their natural dao patterns entwined with merit qi, exuding a supreme aura of opening heaven and earth, creating all things.

Nothing else!

This is precisely the 'Xuanhuant Merit Pearl' that Chen Ku once harvested from the corpse of the Chaos Demon God amidst Chaos!

This object is a supreme treasure formed from the condensation of boundless merit and Xuanhuang qi; each bead contains supreme merit and creative power enough to move even a Saint.

"Could this object also be used to mend the heavens?"

Chen Ku murmured to himself, his voice soft yet carrying a determination that could shake heaven and earth.

How bold this idea is!

How crazy!

This is nothing short of seizing the destined script from the hands of the Heavenly Dao, and with one's own power, rewriting the future course of the entire Primordial World!

Having reached this thought, Chen Ku hesitated no longer.

His Dao is fundamentally a path of defying heaven!

His manner of acting has always been swift and decisive!

Again, a mere thought stirred.

Buzz—!

A sound resembling the Dao's echo from time immemorial rang through heaven and earth.

An ancient, heavy cauldron engraved with the sun, moon, stars, mountains, rivers, grasses and trees appeared out of nowhere before him.

It was precisely that extraordinary treasure, the Heaven-Earth Cauldron!

This cauldron possesses the power to reverse the innate and to refine earth, fire, water, and wind; it is the supreme treasure of the Dao of Creation.

Using it to sacrificial-refine the Xuanhuang Merit Pearl could not be more fitting!

"Rise!"

Chen Ku gave a low shout.

The Xuanhuang Merit Pearl in his palm shot upward, transforming into several streams of light that flew straight into the Heaven-Earth Cauldron.