Chapter 392

The Master's aura was deep and heavy, leaving everyone present struggling to breathe.

The carriage and horses behind him had already been crushed into fragments, and the date-red steed lay in a pool of blood under the pressure of the aura.

The Demon Master gritted his teeth, struggling to hold on, demonic energy and blood seeping from his facial features, making him look hideous and terrifying.

Lianchi's cultivation had fallen below the eighth realm; his complexion was ashen, his breath faint, like a candle in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment.

The Great Master had one arm exploded and both legs lost, leaving only his upper body and left arm, crawling on the ground with great difficulty.

Only Lu Hua, after the appearance of Lu Chen's projection, removed her white silk bamboo hat, revealing a face of peerless beauty.

Her three thousand strands of dark hair drifted behind her head, her skin was as white as jade, and her eyes were like autumn water; she was like a fairy from a painting, with only two shallow dimples on her face adding a touch of childishness and cuteness.

The Sanzhen Myriad Laws in Lu Hua's hand began to glow with fluorescence after Lu Chen appeared, protecting her entire body so that she was not as wretched as the Demon Master and the others.

The Master's gaze was cold as he looked at Lu Chen.

"Traversing three thousand years, I fear that even ten percent of your strength does not remain!"

Lu Chen's projection nodded slightly, his voice distant and indifferent: "Indeed, the price is far too high."

"However, fortunately, this era is not peaceful, and my reputation still stands; I can borrow a little from it."

Between Lu Chen's hands, red mist flowed out, like the gorgeous and mysterious red clouds at sunset on the horizon.

Suddenly!

An invisible and elusive destiny surged in from all directions, as if the endless power of heaven and earth were all gathering here.

Lu Hua felt something, and her hands quickly formed seals, two ancient "Ren" characters appearing in her eyes.

She employed the Daoist art of observing qi and searching dwellings, her gaze piercing through the vast night sky to stare directly at the destiny surging like red mist.

Especially in the west and the north, the destiny was like a pillar, shooting straight into the clouds.

"This is..."

Lu Hua murmured to herself, the runes in her eyes flowing and gradually changing from the "Ren" character to the complex "Chou" character.

She finally realized that the destiny also existed within Bianjing—the Yan King Temple.

The curling incense smoke of Mount Zhongnan, the faith of the people in the north, and even the hearts of the people of the Great Sui... this destiny, which carried the reputation of Ancestor Lu Chen, was surging in continuously, like rivers returning to the sea.

Within this surging destiny, there was also mixed a sky full of tribulation qi.

The resentment of hundreds of thousands of refugees on the roads of the capital, the baleful energy of demons running rampant in Jiannan, the flames of uprising across the land... these tribulation energies and destiny were intertwined, as if the positive and negative forces of heaven and earth were all gathering here at this moment.

Lu Hua's eyes were full of astonishment, and her heart was like a stormy sea.

This technique, capable of borrowing destiny and tribulation energy, was the long-lost peerless art of the Sanzhen Sect—the Heaven-Refining Tribulation Hand!

This technique was created by Ancestor Lu Chen; it used the destiny of heaven and earth as a guide and tribulation energy as power to refine the power of heaven and earth for his own use, and its might was unfathomable.

She never expected that after three thousand years, she would be able to witness this legendary supreme technique with her own eyes!

Lu Chen's hands were wrapped in red mist, and destiny and tribulation energy flowed around him incessantly.

The Demon Master's pupils glowed with ghostly green phosphorus fire, and nine streams of demonic energy erupted from his seven orifices like ink dragons, which was the "Nine Nether Demon-Probing Technique" secretly passed down by the Demon Sect.

He looked up at the sky, his eyes filled with disbelief.

He clearly saw the energies of "tribulation" and "destiny" turn into three thousand golden threads, being woven into a heavenly net by the red mist in Lu Chen's hands.

He murmured in a low voice, his tone filled with shock and doubt:

"Stealing the creation of heaven and earth, seizing the pivot of the universe... Is this a Grandmaster from that era?"

He shook his head, seemingly unable to accept the fact: "Impossible... In an era when spiritual energy had just recovered, the method of Primordial Spirit cultivation had not yet been born in the Daoist or Demon sects; a Grandmaster of that generation could never have such strength."

"How could such a figure appear in the era of the Dao's fall!"

The shock on the Demon Master's face grew more intense, as if he had seen something that overturned his cognition.

He whispered to himself, his tone filled with awe: "Unless... Lu Chen, Lu Yu, Huang Dao, and the others had long since surpassed their peers and truly reached the pinnacle of this world."

Although the Master's face was full of sarcasm, he seemed to disdain this suddenly appearing Sanzhen ancestor.

However, ever since Lu Chen appeared, the Master had already employed his true fundamental technique.

While fighting the Demon Master and Lu Chen, he had appeared to be strolling in a courtyard, but he had never revealed his true strength.

The Master's heart held not the slightest bit of contempt for Lu Chen.

Above Bianjing, the tribulation clouds were like ink, and the red mist surged.

Ordinary people could not see it; only those with profound cultivation could glimpse the danger within—that red mist was clearly the phenomenon that erupted when the destiny of heaven and earth was forcibly extracted!

Lu Chen flicked his hands, and deep within the tribulation clouds, a giant red mist hand seemed to reach out.

The blue bricks under the Master's feet shattered inch by inch, and the Bodhi tree behind him grew wildly to two zhang, with countless golden Sanskrit characters, and thirty-six thousand leaves blooming with Buddhist light.

On each leaf appeared a lost peerless technique: there was the Demon Sect's "Blood River Bone-Eroding Art," the Daoist "Great Huangting," and even the true interpretation of the Confucian "Song of Noble Spirit"!

"Boom!"

The moment the roots of the Bodhi tree pierced into the earth's veins, the banks of the Zhi River trembled, and the cold river water began to boil.

The Demon Master and the others could no longer hold on, blood spraying from their seven orifices.

The string of Buddhist beads in Master Lianchi's arms snapped, and the beads rolled all over the ground, each one showing cracks.

"Can you withstand this one thousand nine hundred years of cultivation?"

Lu Hua was sensible enough to hide behind Lu Chen's projection, not suffering from the pressure, her eyes looking forward to this ancestor with three thousand years of fame.

Lu Chen smiled slightly.

"How would I know if I don't try!"

Lu Chen looked at the great cauldron in the sky, which was becoming increasingly illusory.

"Unfortunately."

Lu Chen's voice carried the vicissitudes of crossing time and space, "I can only strike once."

In the distance, the phantom of Mount Zhongnan also began to blur.

The Demon Master and the others realized with a start that Lu Chen's figure was gradually fading, like a sand painting washed away by the river of time.

Manifesting across three thousand years was already an act against heaven.

If he were to remain in the world for long, even the Dao of Heaven would not allow it.

Above Bianjing, the tribulation clouds were dense, piled up layer upon layer like spilled ink, as if stirred by an invisible hand.

But then, a giant red mist hand reached out from the depths of the cloud vortex.

The four fingers of this giant hand were illusory and ethereal, seemingly unable to sustain themselves, with only the middle finger solid like red mist, its knuckle lines clearly visible, like a great river surging through a gully.

Even more astonishing was that a map of the world's territories appeared between the palm prints, with figures moving within it; there were both the wails of a hundred thousand people and the baleful energy of the battlefield rushing into the sky.

Before the giant finger had even fallen, its pressure had already enveloped the entire world.

The power of the Zhi River surged upward, condensing into a steaming water curtain in mid-air.

"Boom!"

The moment the giant finger pressed down, the surroundings collapsed with a roar.

Between heaven and earth, there was only this one finger.

This finger seemed to want to crush the mountains and rivers and reset the universe!

The Master's Bodhi tree crumbled inch by inch under this power, and the thirty-six thousand scripture leaves between its branches turned into dust.

The giant finger even pierced through the riverbed of the Zhi River, leaving behind a bottomless pit, into which the cold Zhi River water poured.

The Master's figure was submerged by the giant finger, his life or death unknown.

Seeing this, the Demon Master's lips parted slightly; was this something human could achieve?

The three thousand techniques of the "Scripture of Wisdom at the Root of All Phenomena" that the Master had employed were crushed into fragments without even the power to resist.

Such martial arts were truly shocking!

The Great Master bit his tongue, forcibly raising his last breath, not daring to be careless, and used the sword qi of his Spring and Autumn Brush to roll up the muddy waves of the Zhi River from the pit.

A broken body floated up in the waves, its head already crushed into meat paste, with only half a Confucian robe still recognizable; there was no life left.

The Master was dead!

The Great Master's face was full of disbelief, yet he could not imagine who could have escaped from the "Finger of Heaven-Cutting" just now.

Master Lianchi looked up at the sky, the blue glazed array shattering like thin ice.

The Spirit-Startling Array disappeared without a trace.

The old monk pressed his palms together and said slowly, a trace of compassion appearing in his eyes, "All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, and shadows. Like dew and like lightning, they should be viewed as such."

His withered fingers twisted the Rebirth Mantra.

"The heart is like a lotus flower that does not touch the water, and also like the sun and moon that do not dwell in the void."

The Buddhist sounds curled!

The Demon Master, the Great Master, and Lu Hua stood silently; the thick fog by the river dissipated, and the moonlight poured down like silver. On the riverbed of the Zhi River, the huge pit was filled with muddy river water, and a broken corpse floated on the surface.

The four of them breathed a sigh of relief; everything was over!

At this moment, a gentle voice came from behind them.

"Little Heavenly Master Lu, until we meet again!"

Lu Hua turned her head in a hurry, but only saw that the phantom of Mount Zhongnan had already gradually dissipated.

Lu Chen's figure turned into dots of starlight, with only that faint smile at the corner of his mouth finally passing away with the wind.

"Ancestor Lu Chen, I still wanted to ask..."

A voice sounded in her ear, saying indifferently.

"This world is also a chance for ascension."

Lu Hua's eyes were burning, and she bowed down.

"Respectfully sending off the Ancestor!"

Seeing this, Yu Ke felt the shackles on his body unravel with the Master's death.

He could completely end the 【Personal Participation】.

Yu Ke did not hesitate; it was time to end this most "thrilling" personal participation.

The great cauldron in his heart sounded once more.

Yu Ke's consciousness detached from Xie Guan, and an indescribable power enveloped him.

Yu Ke only felt that in the midst of chaos and dimness, he opened his eyes again.

He was not in the Shenxiao Sect.

Instead, he appeared on "Mount Zhongnan" from the memories of his first life.

The Tomb of the Living Dead on Mount Zhongnan!

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On Mount Zhongnan.

Xie Mu looked at the bronze cauldron that was gradually dissipating, and the pressure that had been weighing on him also vanished like smoke.

"Brother Mu, was that just now... a cauldron?"

The woman in the green dress rubbed her dizzy forehead, her eyes full of confusion.

Xie Mu recalled the records in the "Heavenly Demon Strategy" regarding the origin of heaven and earth: the ancient heaven and earth were either blessed lands or a great cauldron.

Could it be... that the legend was actually true?

His gaze passed over the woman and looked at the Seven Sons of Zhongnan, who were walking hurriedly toward a middle-aged figure standing with his hands behind his back in front of the Tomb of the Living Dead.

The Seven Sons of Zhongnan could not help but ask.

"Uncle Master, what was that just now? Was it the reappearance of the Ascension Platform from a year ago?"

Yang Su noticed that the middle-aged man's face seemed to have a trace of fatigue, and asked with concern:

"Uncle Master, are you alright?"

The crowd also had worried expressions; it had been nearly a year since their master, Lu Yu, ascended.

"It is nothing."

Only then did everyone set their hearts at ease.

Xie Mu stepped forward and bowed respectfully: "Xie Mu pays his respects to Sect Leader Lu."

Hearing this, Lu Chen turned around slowly, his hands tucked into his sleeves, with the Seven Sons of Zhongnan standing solemnly behind him.

Only a pair of bright eyes looked over.

Although no pressure was released, Xie Mu felt an invisible oppression and could not help but feel his heart tighten.

He smiled bitterly in his heart, thinking that after experiencing the storms of the world with the Demon Master Huang Dao, he had long since become indifferent to worldly affairs.

Having also experienced a six-month-long pursuit, his state of mind had long been as still as an ancient well.

Yet now, facing this Yan King, he was still as uneasy as that young man who had first entered the world.

The woman in the green dress hid behind Xie Mu, at a loss and sitting on pins and needles, not even having the courage to look up directly.

Xie Mu cupped his hands in a salute, "Xie Mu has come today to ask Sect Leader Lu about something."

Lu Chen chuckled, "Since you have come here, don't you already have the answer in your heart?"

His gaze was deep, as if looking directly into Xie Mu's heart.

"Didn't you and he come here together back then? Today, you revisit the old place."

"Demons are not demons, and righteousness is not righteousness; it all lies in a single thought of yours—why ask me?"

Xie Mu's pupils shrank slightly, then he smiled with relief, "Xie Mu understands; thank you for your guidance, Sect Leader Lu."

He bowed and turned to leave, his steps no longer hesitant.

The woman in the green dress also bowed her head to Lu Chen, then trotted to catch up with Xie Mu, asking in a low voice.

"Brother Mu, what were you talking about? Why couldn't I understand a single word?"

"Also, where are we going now?"

Bright light flickered in Xie Mu's eyes, and heroic spirit surged in his chest: "To the Demon Sect."

"The Demon Sect?" the woman exclaimed, "Aren't we running for our lives? Isn't this throwing ourselves into the net?"

Xie Mu laughed loudly, the sound shaking the mountains and forests, "I am going to become the Master of the Demon Sect!"

The woman in the green dress was slightly startled, then brilliant colors appeared in her eyes: "Brother Mu is the direct disciple of the Demon Master and carries the 'Heavenly Demon Strategy'; who else but you could hold the position of Master of the Demon Sect?"

Xie Mu laughed loudly and carried the woman down the mountain.

The mountain wind blew, causing his sleeves to flutter, as if he had the style of the Demon Master Huang Dao when he first entered the world.

Yang Su looked at their retreating backs and shook his head with a light laugh: "This world of martial arts is afraid it will lose a young hero Mu and gain a Demon Master."

The Seven Sons of Zhongnan smiled at each other and dispersed.

Lady Yunxiao and mist gradually rose in the mountains, shrouding the Tomb of the Living Dead.

The moment Lu Chen tucked his hands into his sleeves and stepped into the Tomb of the Living Dead, his dark hair turned white inch by inch.

The bronze lamps on both sides of the tomb passage flickered, reflecting his rapidly aging face.

In an instant!

He had changed from a middle-aged man into a white-haired old man.

He stepped into the quiet room, sat on the prayer mat, and lowered his gaze, as if seeing a figure in the void of the quiet room.

Lu Chen slowly carved words into the blue bricks under the prayer mat, each stroke appearing vigorous and powerful:

"I ask the immortals in heaven, has my life as Lu Chen been magnificent?"

Lu Chen smiled on his aged face, "Refining all the yin dross in the spirit to achieve the infinite pure yang!"

"We will meet again!"

Before the words had faded, golden light erupted from his whole body.

That light did not come from the outside, but seeped out from every inch of his skin, as if a rising sun were hidden within his body.

His whole body was shrouded in a faint golden halo, as if he had merged with heaven and earth.

His spiritual will was like a knife, peeling away the haze and distracting thoughts deep in his sea of consciousness inch by inch; for every bit of yin dross refined, a wisp of pure yang qi was added to his body.

Gradually, his aura became purer and purer, like a rising sun, shining with ten thousand rays of light, illuminating all directions.

Finally, it dimmed!

Lu Chen had no life left!

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Yu Ke looked at the words Lu Chen had carved on the blue bricks and said nothing.

"I ask the immortals in heaven, has my life as Lu Chen been magnificent?"

(End of chapter)