Chapter 805

Battle intent vanished, fighting spirit gone, his whole body limp and weak; toward that mass of fire he even felt affection and closeness.

Wu Tie and his fellow Wu clan youths were greatly startled; seeing Feng Shang laughing wildly, Wu Tie let out a long whistle, five-colored divine light surged behind him, then he swept downward, brushing all his brothers into it, then turned and left.

The Pangu True Body, standing nearly forty thousand zhang tall, was like an ice sculpture encountering sunlight; under the blaze of the spark-fire it shrank bit by bit.

Within his body, the vast magical power dissipated bit by bit, fading away.

Wu Tie transformed into a torrent of light and flew far to the west; only then did he turn his head, looking at Feng Shang with both shock and anger, then gazed at the lotus flower guarded by a hundred thousand disciples of the Scarlet Lotus Temple.

"Qing Feng, National Preceptor... when disaster looms, everyone flees on their own—you'd better look out for yourself!"

Having said that, Wu Tie activated his escape light and fled at top speed, with no intention of staying to help Qing Feng free himself.

Although Qing Feng had always appeared full of goodwill, and even because of him Wu Tie had temporarily repelled the disciples of the Scarlet Lotus Temple and White Lotus Palace, even gaining quite a few benefits.

But as another of the three divine sects protecting the Spark Dynasty, Wu Tie did not believe that the Azure Lotus Temple was truly a pristine azure lotus flower risen from the water, utterly unsullied, and so clear and pure.

If the Azure Lotus Temple truly sought no contention with the world, why would they send Qing Feng out to wander about?

Thus Wu Tie fled at breakneck speed, utterly unconcerned about Qing Feng's safety.

If the Laughing Face Buddha could take care of Qing Feng… hehe, Wu Tie even felt like breaking into song.

Of course, Wu Tie's mood could not be that good. The disciples of the White Lotus Palace killed themselves by some strange method, a hundred or so elite all perishing. Pei Feng fell into the hands of the White Lotus Palace, and now it's unknown where he is being held in the Spark Dynasty.

Thinking of Pei Feng, Wu Tie's heart throbbed painfully.

While flying westward at full speed, Wu Tie suddenly felt a whim; he grabbed downward with his right hand at the sea surface, and a turtle whose carapace spanned over a thousand zhang, an ancient beast crushed by ages, was hauled up by Wu Tie with a strange cry.

He shook his right hand and pointed; a roughly zhang‑sized oval piece cracked off the turtle's shell, exactly the small piece at the center of its carapace. Wu Tie flicked his right hand, and the turtle, shrieking, fell back into the water, flailing its four legs in panic as it dove into the deep depths, not daring to surface.

A thread of blood spurted from Wu Tie's fingertip, turning into a sheet of blood‑flame that fell onto the cracked shell. The blood‑flame blazed, making the shell emit a strange fragrance and constantly producing a 'crack‑crack‑crack' sound.

Squinting, he glanced at the fissures appearing on the turtle's shell, Wu Tie laughed loudly and rushed toward the Fuxi Divine Capital.

"Ha, I was only worried I couldn't find the rightful owner—I didn't expect you to show up!"

On a sudden inspiration, he employed the Wu clan's secret turtle‑shell divination technique; Wu Tie joyfully discovered that one of the direct sources behind Pei Feng's capture had actually arrived on his own turf, right near the surface secondary capital of the present Fuxi Divine State.

Wu Tie threw back his head and let out a long whistle; his body returned to a perfect golden form six zhang tall, then he surged forward—with a boom, the void tore open a huge hole, and Wu Tie violently ripped through space, instantly teleporting forward.

On the sea surface, the giant lotus manifested by the Laughing Face Buddha's divine power exploded with a boom; shards of its petals, like gold, silver, and jewels, sprayed forth ten‑zhang rays of auspicious light in all directions, striking the heads of the Scarlet Lotus Temple's great monks with a repeated 'thud‑thud'.

A Buddhist chant rang out, and the Laughing Face Buddha appeared, smiling broadly, seated on the back of a great turtle.

He pressed his palms together, smiling, and gave a slight nod to the towering ten‑zhang figure before him: "The Pangu True Body, the Pangu Classic… indeed formidable, formidable… Qing Feng, martial nephew, I never imagined your cultivation had reached such a level."

The ten‑zhang‑tall Qing Feng bled from his seven apertures; atop his head hung a mysterious yellow pendant exhaling torrents of primal yellow qi, which formed a light pillar shielding his whole body as he laboriously drew ragged breaths.

"You shameless old thief‑bald, today's affair—just you wait." Qing Feng wiped the blood continually seeping from his mouth, turned and flew toward the direction Wu Tie had departed: "Wait until I, Dao‑lord, become head of the Azure Lotus Temple; sooner or later I will lead the whole temple to smash your Scarlet Lotus Temple's mountain gate."

The Laughing Face Buddha's smile grew ever more radiant.

"If you, martial nephew Qing Feng, continue to harbor such thoughts, you will probably never become head of the Azure Lotus Temple in this lifetime."

The Laughing Face Buddha chuckled softly: "The Azure Lotus Temple, Scarlet Lotus Temple, and White Lotus Palace—the three divine sects share the same breath and branch; it is utterly impossible for them to erupt in genuine conflict. So even if I bully you, your Azure Lotus Temple… well, at most a few lax elders will come out to bully my disciples, and you needn't worry about them seeking trouble with me."

"Hehe, hehe—this is the bottom line and tacit understanding of the three divine sects, hehe, hehe. If you fail to grasp this principle, the position of head of the Azure Lotus Temple will forever be beyond your reach." The Laughing Face Buddha shook his head and swayed, sighing, then his smile shifted slightly.

"Such heavy casualties?" the Laughing Face Buddha asked Feng Shang, who was holding aloft a massive fireball.

"It was my oversight…" Feng Shang admitted his mistake. Although he was extremely proud and arrogant, once he erred he would unhesitatingly acknowledge his fault and never repeat the same mistake thereafter.

Thus Feng Shang is an extremely formidable enemy.

He frankly admitted to the Laughing Face Buddha his carelessness, which had directly caused the loss of forty‑plus thousand imperial troops.

"So I can only unleash the spark‑fire to drive them away." Feng Shang smiled: "As long as they possess human blood, once the spark‑fire appears, none can resist."

The Laughing Face Buddha gazed thoughtfully toward the Fuxi Divine Capital: "But around here, it's not just the spark‑fire you hold in your hand, King Yin… hmm, has the Spark Dynasty sent anyone else?"

Feng Shang also looked toward the Fuxi Divine Capital, his face darkening: "No surprise, it's the eldest brother who's come, right? How strange—within the White Lotus Palace the infighting is fierce, yet just Bai Su Xin alone managed to persuade the father emperor?"

Feng Shang said coldly: "The father emperor knows my temperament; logically, he wouldn't send anyone to compete with me for credit."

The Laughing Face Buddha narrowed his eyes and said with a bright smile: "Why not go and see?"

The great turtle beneath the Laughing Face Buddha stubbornly stretched its neck, lifting its head from the edge of the mat, and spoke sinisterly: "Your Highness King Yin, why not let me give you a suggestion? Find a chance to do away with your elder brother, and you'll surely be the sole heir to the throne."

A miserable howl rang out, blood spurted, and the Laughing Face Buddha forcibly peeled off another layer of the great turtle's shell.

Outside the Fuxi Divine Capital, far off, Wu Tie hid behind a mass of thick clouds.

He stared in shock at the scene outside the Fuxi Divine Capital—million Spark Dynasty troops, each holding a rune‑lined rope, were binding the various tribes' warriors who lay helpless on the ground like piglets, tying them up tight and neat, then laying them out in orderly rows.

Xi Wule, Xi Bubai, and the other high‑ranking members of the Xi clan had also been left limp and powerless, sent to the prow of a massive flagship and placed before a throne.

Feng Rong, smiling broadly, had one foot planted on Xi Wule's head.