Chapter 649: Heaven

"Senior brother, how long do you think they can hold out before Master?"

Su Jing leaned against the window, his gaze piercing the night toward a direction of flood control.

"Buddhist Vajra, demonic patriarchs, Daoist Heavenly Masters—and your eldest brother's Spring and Autumn righteous qi... with such power, how much real trouble could they possibly cause the Master?"

On the fourth floor of Yaoxian Tower, the lingering scent of the gathering of beauties had not yet faded.

The Third Master stood by the window, hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on the distant, flickering horizon.

There, qi surged like tides, yet one towering aura stood like a monarch of mountains, suppressing all directions.

Ordinary people felt only heart-pounding dread, unaware of the truth.

Like viewing flowers through mist!

"Of all people, the four of us understand Master best."

The Third Master frowned: "Back then, had Master not been in the midst of corpse liberation, his strength greatly diminished, and had Second Senior Brother not wielded his Nine Swords… and had we not prepared secretly for years…"

Speaking of this,

the Third Master's eyes darkened with deeper dread at the memory: "We nearly all died."

Su Jing nodded silently.

If one were to name the person he feared most in this world, the Master would come first.

That sense of unfathomable depth had persisted since his youth, unbroken to this day.

Su Jing also nodded: "Those four…"

"Probably don't even have the qualification to make the Master take them seriously."

"Yet today, I hold a different view."

The Third Master turned to look at him, his tone shifting: "Wuxin, do you think those four can harm Master?"

Su Jing shook his head.

"Impossible."

"Master has just completed corpse liberation—each such liberation causes his cultivation base to surge again."

"Moreover, Master has long planned this, preparing thoroughly."

The Third Master frowned: "Then what's different?"

Su Jing raised a finger toward the sky: "Men act; Heaven watches. Today's scene may lie within Master's calculations—but the Wheel of Heaven and Earth… lies beyond."

"How could Heaven and Earth allow such a glutton?"

Su Jing's fingertip tapped the window frame; the old man's face reappeared, now youthful, strikingly handsome.

His voice too became the clear, refined tone of a young man.

"He absorbs only the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth, yet returns corpse qi to the mortal realm, birthing countless demons and monsters… to roam unchecked."

He gazed at the churning qi in the distance: "If Heaven truly holds a hidden will, it will not miss this opportunity."

The Third Master's eyes flickered: "You mean…"

"It seems Master has calculated all heavenly patterns," Su Jing's smile deepened, "yet Heaven's net is vast—and has already been laid."

The Third Master fell silent for a moment: "Are you so certain your eldest brother and the others still have hidden cards?"

Su Jing shook his head: "Eldest Brother never cares about success or failure. Those four are truly weak before Master—even all of us together might not escape alive!"

He gazed at the sky: "Eldest Brother has always been this way—knowing it's impossible, yet doing it anyway."

"Perhaps precisely because he finds his spirit in mountains and rivers, attuning with Heaven and Earth."

A black-and-white chess piece, constantly shifting, slipped from Su Jing's sleeve; his fingers pinched it gently.

"Perhaps precisely because of this… Heaven and Earth are using his hand to carry out Heaven's duty."

The Third Master's gaze settled on the black-and-white chess piece in Su Jing's hand.

It was no ordinary object—it was Su Jing's treasure for cultivating his Primordial Spirit, intimately tied to his fortune.

Since Su Jing entered the Ninth Realm of Martial Path, his Primordial Spirit fused with his Yang Spirit, his true essence became—"Tianwen."

Symbolizing a quest for answers from Heaven, black as negative, white as positive, one question, one answer—simple and clear, capable of glimpsing heavenly patterns, yet at an immense cost.

Even with Su Jing's cultivation, he could use it only three times.

When they jointly slew the Master, they had witnessed Su Jing use "Tianwen" once.

At that time, the chess piece had been white, radiant with brilliance.

The Third Master could not suppress his doubt: "Have you used 'Tianwen' today?"

Su Jing shook his head; the chess piece spun in his palm: "Only one remains—still not the critical moment."

The Third Master frowned.

They had used one when killing the Master—there should have been two left.

Why now only one?

When, and for what purpose, had Su Jing used that precious "Tianwen"?

Su Jing toyed with the chess piece in his palm, his smile deepening: "Senior brother, if you wish to know the answer to that 'Tianwen'…"

"It's not impossible. I'm curious too—what is your true essence?"

"Just as I've never known what Master's true essence is?"

Su Jing's gaze was eager; when he first met this senior brother, the Third Master was already a supreme figure of the Ninth Realm, his Yang Spirit perfected, his true essence already formed—yet never revealed before others.

True essence arises from one's cultivation scripture and inner spiritual pursuit—each unique.

The First Master's true essence, born from wandering mountains and rivers, was "Xiaoyao You."

The Second Master's lifelong path forged his true essence: "Zhanxian," capable of severing all things.

For so many years, the Third Master's true essence had never been mentioned.

Always a mystery!

The Third Master said nothing.

The fourth floor fell silent; the gathering of beauties neared its end, with only Su Shishi yet to take the stage.

The Third Master asked: "Why spare Xie Hong?"

Earlier, Xie Hong had begged for forgiveness, yet Su Jing had punished him not at all—unlike his usual nature.

Su Jing toyed with the chess piece in his palm: "Senior brother, you underestimate Xie Hong."

"How much did he contribute to today's scheme?"

"Compared to Xie Ling…" Su Jing's eyes flickered with hidden meaning, "the most terrifying one in the Xie family is him."

"Among the next generation of the Nine Surnames, only Xie Hong has truly stepped onto the stage."

Few people in this world earned Su Jing's description of "terrifying."

"Xie Hong is still young, yet his cultivation speed already rivals that of Second Senior Brother in his prime."

Su Jing gazed toward the third floor: "During the Xie family's turmoil, he cultivated his heart in Qingliang Temple—likely already forged his true essence."

"If I punish Xie Hong…" his fingertip froze on the chess piece, "dozens of eyes are watching from the third floor—my first corpse liberation's calamity might unfold prematurely here in Yaoxian Tower."

The Third Master recalled the faint, elusive killing intent in Xie Hong's chest as he ascended the stairs.

Xie Hong and Second Senior Brother were close friends—what was his motive today?

Su Jing had already guessed the answer, his fingers unconsciously rubbing a cracked chess piece hidden in his sleeve:

"It's fortunate that Second Senior Brother has such a loyal friend."

His gaze turned to the gathering of beauties; the finale, Su Shishi, had gracefully taken the stage.

She stood before the platform, clad in white robes whiter than snow, her features like a painted scroll.

Her green gauze skirt fluttered with the wind, as if a celestial goddess descended from the heavens.

Every gesture, every step, exuded a chilling aura, alien to this mortal world—yet breathtakingly beautiful.

One dance stunned the crowd; all below were entranced.

Su Jing leaned by the window, watching Su Shishi's dance, a faint smile on his lips.

"The world should be this beautiful."

He looked down at the chess piece in his palm, his voice turning cold: "Yet for ascension, countless corpses lie buried along this path."

By the Zhi River.

The Master stood casually, facing the four men.

The Demon Master had his arm torn off, bent over gasping, his flesh and sinew exposed, severed but still connected.

Once elegant Xu Jiangxian was drenched in blood, reduced to the pitiful state of blood constantly oozing from his mouth.

"Cough! Cough!"

Xu Jiangxian cupped the blood he spat out and swallowed it back.

Lu Hua leaned on the Three True Ten Thousand Dharma Sword, her left leg a bloody, mangled wound; she turned to the Demon Master: "Demon Master, are you still alright?"

The Demon Master wiped blood from his lips, voice hoarse: "Not dead yet!"

His gaze toward the Master was filled with darkness.

Just now, the Master had reached out from the air to seize Lu Hua—if not for his "Heavenly Demon Hand," she would have died on the spot.

Unthinkable!

The demonic sect's sacred relic, the "Heavenly Demon Hand," had been crushed into fragments by the Master.

The Heavenly Demon Hand not only refined "Heavenly Demon Blood" with revival properties, but also contained the complete teachings of the demonic sect's supreme scripture: "Heavenly Demon Strategy."

Lu Hua turned to Lotus Master, concerned: "Master, are you alright?"

Just now, the lotus monk's chest was pierced through by the Master's finger, his body severed into two halves.

Lu Hua had believed this Buddhist master had already passed away, yet he never expected the man to reassemble his two halves in the shadows and unleash a "Subduing Demon Vajra Fist" straight at the Master's chest.

Too bad—the Master didn't budge an inch.

Golden light, like liquid lapis lazuli, flowed over Lianchi's body. "The old monk can still hold on."

The Demon Master chuckled: "Master, you're remarkably composed. Just now, I thought you'd already departed for the Western Pure Land to meditate."

Lianchi's primordial "Sixteen-Foot Golden Body" allows severed limbs to regrow and flesh to be remade.

It was precisely this divine ability that let him survive the Master's onslaught.

The old monk grinned, revealing blood-stained teeth: "Old monk hasn't finished reciting the 'Ksitigarbha's Original Vows Sutra.' The Buddha says my cultivation isn't complete—he won't take me yet."

Lu Hua pressed his swordtip to the ground, swallowed the metallic tang rising in his throat, and forced himself upright, his gaze fixed on the boy in the air—only his upper half remaining—Great Master.

Had Great Master not continuously relocated them all with his primordial "Xiaoyao You," their bodies would have been crushed long ago.

The Master smiled faintly—he hadn't even used any technique, merely raw physical strength, and already reduced all four of them to this state.

Speed alone breaks all defenses; strength alone overcomes all arts!

Lu Hua gripped the Three Truths Ten Thousand Methods Sword; its blade trembled slightly.

She suddenly understood: this sage, who had lived two thousand years, had already brought the Dao to its ultimate extreme.

Great Master's waist and below had been severed—clean, smooth cuts—the result of the Master's hand-blade.

Great Master sealed his acupoints.

Dong Cheng gazed at Great Master's ruined body and smiled: "You won't last long like this."

"Your broken frame can hold out at most another minute."

"If you die," he said, voice low, "they won't even have a chance to escape."

Xu Xian smiled calmly: "If the Master still lives, how could his student dare die first?"

The Master stood with hands behind his back, eyes calm as water: "Knowing death is certain, why waste effort?"

He turned to the Demon Master: "Demon cultivation values the self above all things. Is this kind of reckless sacrifice worth it?"

Xu Jiangxian's bloodied lips curled into a smile: "The Demon Sect does indeed hold that view. But Huang Dao's Patriarch once said: life is seized, not given."

"If I don't come today," his eyes glinted with madness, "I may never get another chance at transcendence. I came for myself."

The Master nodded slightly: "The Demon Sect—truly all are life-risking fools."

"I've seen the primordial forms of all four of you," the Master's gaze burned. "Only yours, I have yet to witness."

Before his words faded, the Master appeared beside the Demon Master.

A withered hand, like an eagle's talon, shot out.

The Demon Master's pupils shrank sharply; demonic energy surged around him.

He knew full well the power of that grasp—Lianchi's Golden Body had been torn apart as easily as paper!

Lianchi's golden light blazed fiercely; the lapis lazuli Buddhist radiance of his "Sixteen-Foot Golden Body" poured down, engulfing the Demon Master.

Lu Hua bit his tongue; his Three Truths Ten Thousand Methods Sword ignited with primordial blood, unleashing a dozen-zhang sword qi into the air.

Great Master spat once—a hundred "Spring and Autumn Brush" sword qi surged like a rainstorm.

The Demon Master's form flickered; he activated "Blood Shadow Escape," splitting into two blood-red clones.

The Master merely flicked his finger—the sword qi shattered instantly.

He swept his sleeve, and Great Master's "Spring and Autumn Brush" was swallowed into his sleeve.

Lianchi's Vajra Fist struck his back—like a great bell tolling—and Lianchi was thrown back several steps.

The Master ignored them all, his gaze fixed on the Demon Master.

"I've got you."

The Master's withered hand clamped onto the Demon Master's crown.

At the last possible moment.

Moment of death!

The Demon Master's eyes blazed crimson; he activated his primordial "Heart Demon Inducement!"

The Master's body froze; confusion flickered across his face.

His grip loosened slightly.

The Demon Master seized the chance and vanished as a blood shadow.

"Heart Demon Inducement"—forces a secondary consciousness to arise within a target within a certain range, obscuring their true self.

"Interesting."

The Master's voice echoed as if trailing behind him.

The Demon Master's pupils shrank—how had he broken free so quickly?

The Master appeared behind him, his withered hand resting on his shoulder: "Had this been before my second corpse-severing, I might have fallen. Too bad…" his voice was cold.

"I've already severed all three corpses. What you call false self, true self—they're all true self."

Lu Hua and the other two rushed to rescue him.

But the Demon Master felt his cultivation sealed—he couldn't move.

His eyes flashed with ferocity; his body suddenly shattered into seven or eight pieces, limbs scattering in escape.

"Heavenly Demon Corpse-Disintegration Technique?"

The Master's eyebrows lifted slightly; Lu Hua's three punches and sword qi were already before him.

His gaze was calm, as if strolling in a courtyard admiring flowers, watching fish in a pond—every gesture, every motion, effortless.

Yu Ke watched this lopsided battle from afar—four of them together couldn't even force the Master to take them seriously!

The Master seemed to sense Yu Ke's gaze; he looked up toward the Sky-Shattering Array, a faint smile touching his lips:

"Enough. It's time to end this."

Before his words faded, heaven and earth fell utterly silent.

Lu Hua felt a mountain suddenly crush down on her back; her Ten Thousand Methods Sword rang sharply as it plunged into the ground, its blade bent like a full moon.

Her knees trembled, yet she stubbornly refused to kneel.

Lianchi raised both hands to the sky, the lapis lazuli Buddhist radiance of his Sixteen-Foot Golden Body blazing—but still, he was forced to one knee.

The blue stone beneath his feet cracked into fragments; within the Buddhist light, faint shadows of Arhats appeared, yet they could not resist this cosmic might.

Great Master was pressed flat against the ground, his Spring and Autumn Brush sword qi swirling around him like a caged beast struggling.

The Demon Master's blood mist hung frozen midair—only half his body reconstructed by the Heavenly Demon Corpse-Disintegration Technique—motionless except for his rolling eyes.

The Master's cold gaze swept over the four of them.

"This death won't bring you pain."

He stood with hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on Yu Ke.

"I've long been invincible in this realm. And you—now."

"Any last tricks?"

In Yu Ke's mind-sea, the great tripod suddenly rang!

The bell's sound crossed time and space—sounding as if from ancient antiquity, yet echoing as if from the future.

Yu Ke smiled gently: "Invincible in this realm?"

(End of Chapter)