Chapter 653: Alchemy of Heavenly Calamity, the Master Falls, May I Ask, Will the Immortal Meet Again?

The Master's aura was profound and crushing, suffocating everyone present.

Behind him, the carriage and horses had been crushed to shards; the chestnut steed lay dead in a pool of blood, crushed by the pressure.

The Demon Master gritted his teeth, struggling to hold on, his face oozing demonic energy and blood, twisted into a horrifying visage.

Lotus Pool's cultivation base had plummeted below the Eighth Realm; his face was ashen, his breath faint, like a candle flickering in the wind, ready to be snuffed out at any moment.

The First Master's right arm had exploded, both legs gone—only his upper torso and left arm remained, crawling helplessly on the ground.

Only Lu Hua, after Lu Chen's projection appeared, removed her white gauze hat, revealing a face of peerless beauty.

Her long black hair streamed behind her, her skin as pale and luminous as jade; her eyes, like autumn waters, resembled a celestial maiden from a painting, save for two faint dimples on her cheeks, adding a touch of innocence and charm.

The Three Truths Ten Thousand Methods in Lu Hua's hand had glowed with a soft luminescence since Lu Chen's appearance, shielding her entirely and sparing her the disgrace suffered by the Demon Master and others.

The Master's gaze was cold as he fixed it on Lu Chen.

"Even after three thousand years, your power is surely less than one-tenth of what it was!"

Lu Chen's projection nodded slightly, his voice distant and calm: "Indeed, the cost was immense."

"But fortunately, this era is far from peaceful—my name still lingers, and I may borrow a fraction of its weight."

Between Lu Chen's hands, crimson auroras swirled forth, like the radiant, mysterious clouds of a setting sun across the horizon.

Suddenly!

An invisible, elusive force of destiny surged from all directions, as if the boundless power of heaven and earth converged upon this very spot.

Lu Hua sensed it at once, swiftly forming hand seals; two ancient characters "Ren" appeared in her eyes.

She activated the Daoist art of observing qi and searching dwellings, her gaze piercing the endless night sky, fixing upon the crimson auroras surging toward them.

Especially to the west and north, the destiny flowed like pillars, shooting straight into the heavens.

"This is…"

Lu Hua murmured to herself, the runes in her eyes shifting, the "Ren" characters gradually transforming into the intricate "Chou" character.

She finally discerned that the destiny also originated within Bianjing—within the Yan Wang Temple.

The incense smoke from Mount Zhongnan, the faith of the northern people, even the hearts of the entire Sui Empire—all the destiny bearing the name of Master Lu Chen—flowed like rivers returning to the sea, ceaselessly pouring forth.

Amidst this surging destiny, there was also a tide of calamity.

The sorrowful qi of hundreds of thousands of refugees on the capital's roads, the malevolent qi of demons ravaging Jiannan, the fires of rebellion blazing across the land… these calamities intertwined with destiny, as if the opposing forces of heaven and earth had converged at this very moment.

Lu Hua's eyes were filled with shock, her heart churning like a storm-tossed sea.

This art, capable of borrowing destiny and calamity, was the lost supreme technique of the Three Truths Sect—the Alchemy of Heavenly Calamity!

This art was uniquely created by Master Lu Chen, using the destiny of heaven and earth as its guide and calamity as its power, refining the forces of the cosmos for one's own use—its power unfathomable.

She had never imagined that, after three thousand years, she would witness this legendary supreme technique with her own eyes.

Lu Chen's hands were wreathed in crimson auroras, destiny and calamity swirling endlessly around him.

The Demon Master's pupils glowed with eerie green phosphorescence; nine streams of demonic energy erupted from his seven orifices, coiling like ink-black dragons—this was the Demon Sect's secret art: Nine You Probing Demon Technique.

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

He clearly saw the "Calamity" and "Destiny" qi transform into three thousand golden threads, drawn by Lu Chen's crimson auroras into a celestial net.

He whispered softly, his voice laced with awe and confusion:

"Stealing the creation of heaven and earth, seizing the pivot of the cosmos… is this the work of a Grand Master from that age?"

He shook his head, struggling to accept it: "Impossible… in an age when spiritual energy had just begun to revive, the methods of cultivating the Primordial Spirit had not yet emerged among Daoists or Demons—Grand Masters of that era could never have possessed such power."

"How could such a figure exist in the Age of Dao's Collapse!"

The Demon Master's shock deepened, as if he had witnessed something that shattered his very understanding.

He muttered to himself, his tone tinged with reverence: "Unless… Lu Chen, Lu Yu, Huang Dao, and others had already surpassed their peers, truly reaching the pinnacle of this realm."

Though the Master's face was filled with scorn, dismissing the sudden appearance of the Three Truths Ancestor,

since Lu Chen's manifestation, the Master had already activated his true root technique.

While fighting the Demon Master and Lu Chen, he had appeared leisurely, yet never revealed his true strength.

Deep within, the Master held not the slightest trace of contempt for Lu Chen.

Above Bianjing, calamity clouds were black as ink, crimson auroras churning.

Ordinary people could not see it; only those with profound cultivation could perceive the danger—the crimson auroras were clearly an anomaly born from heaven and earth's destiny being forcibly ripped away!

Lu Chen gently moved his hands; deep within the calamity clouds, a colossal crimson hand seemed to emerge.

The blue bricks beneath the Master's feet shattered inch by inch; behind him, the Bodhi tree grew wildly to two zhang tall, and countless golden Sanskrit characters bloomed on its leaves—thirty-six thousand leaves simultaneously radiated Buddhist light.

On each leaf floated a lost supreme art: the Demon Sect's Blood River Eroding Bone Scripture, the Daoist Great Huangting, even the true interpretation of the Confucian Ode of Vast Righteous Qi!

"Boom!"

The instant the Bodhi tree's roots plunged into the earth's veins, the banks of the Zhi River trembled, and the icy waters boiled.

The Demon Master and others could no longer hold on; blood spurted from their seven orifices.

Master Lotus Pool's rosary string snapped; beads scattered across the ground, each one cracked with fissures.

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

Lu Hua, wise enough, hid behind Lu Chen's projection, untouched by the pressure, her eyes filled with anticipation as she watched the ancestor with three thousand years of renown.

Lu Chen smiled faintly.

"How can you know unless you try?"

Lu Chen gazed at the great cauldron in the sky, now growing increasingly insubstantial.

"Pity."

Lu Chen's voice carried the weight of millennia: "I may strike only once."

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

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

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

To persist in this world was forbidden even by the Dao.

Above Bianjing, calamity clouds gathered thickly, piled layer upon layer like spilled ink, as if stirred by an invisible hand.

From deep within the vortex, a colossal crimson hand emerged.

Four of its fingers were ethereal, flickering as if barely sustained; only the middle finger was solid, dense as crimson aurora, its knuckles and ridges clearly visible, like a great river surging through a canyon.

More astonishing still, the palm's lines revealed a map of the world's territories—within it, countless figures swarmed: ten thousand commoners wailing in despair, battlefield malevolence piercing the heavens.

Before the finger even descended, its pressure already engulfed heaven and earth.

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

"Boom!"

The instant the finger pressed down, the surroundings collapsed violently.

In heaven and earth, there was only one finger.

This finger sought to crush mountains and rivers, to reset the cosmos!

The Master's Bodhi tree shattered inch by inch under the force; the thirty-six thousand leaf-scrolls dissolved into dust.

The finger pierced through the Zhi River's riverbed, leaving a bottomless pit, into which icy river water rushed.

The Master's figure was swallowed by the finger—his fate unknown.

The Demon Master stared, lips parted—could such a thing be accomplished by mortal hands?

The three thousand arts from the Master's Scripture of Ultimate Origins of All Methods offered no resistance; they were crushed into fragments under the pressure.

This martial art was truly astonishing!

The First Master bit his tongue, forcing out his last breath; he dared not hesitate, using the spring-and-autumn brush's qi to stir up the muddy flood from the pit.

From the waves rose a mangled corpse—its head crushed into pulp; only a fragment of Confucian robe remained, barely recognizable, lifeless.

The Master was dead!

The First Master's face was filled with disbelief, yet he could not imagine anyone surviving the "Heaven-Cutting Finger."

Master Lotus Pool looked up at the sky; his blue Liuli dharma array shattered like thin ice.

The Shocking God Array vanished.

The old monk clasped his hands and spoke slowly, his eyes filled with compassion: "All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows; like dew, like lightning—thus should they be viewed."

His withered fingers moved as he chanted the Rebirth Mantra.

"The mind is like a lotus, unstained by water; like the sun and moon, unattached to emptiness."

The Buddhist chant echoed softly!

The Demon Master, the First Master, and Lu Hua stood in silence; the mist by the river dissipated, silver moonlight poured down. On the Zhi River's bed, the massive pit was filled with murky water, floating the mangled corpse.

All four exhaled—everything was over!

At that moment, a gentle voice came from behind.

"Farewell, Young Master Lu."

Lu Hua spun around instantly—only the fading phantom of Mount Zhongnan remained.

Lu Chen's figure dissolved into specks of starlight; only the faint smile on his lips lingered briefly, then vanished with the wind.

"Master Lu Chen, I still wish to ask…"

A voice echoed in her ear, softly:

"This world is also a chance for transcendence."

Lu Hua's eyes burned with fervor; she bowed deeply.

"Farewell, Ancestor!"

Yu Ke, seeing this, felt his chains shatter as the Master died.

It is time to end 【personal involvement】.

Yu Ke, seeing this, made no hesitation—it was time to end this most "heart-stopping" personal involvement.

The great cauldron within his heart sea rang once more.

Yu Ke's spirit detached from Xie Guan, and an indescribable force enveloped him.

Yu Ke felt only chaos and haze, then opened his eyes again.

He was no longer within the Shenxiao Sect.

He had appeared on Mount Zhongnan, within his first life's memories.

Mount Zhongnan—the Tomb of the Living Dead!

On Mount Zhongnan.

Xie Mu stared at the bronze cauldron slowly dissolving; the pressure weighing upon him vanished with it.

"Big Brother Mu, what was that just now… a cauldron?"

The woman in the green skirt rubbed her throbbing forehead, her eyes filled with confusion.

Xie Mu recalled the records in the Heaven Demon Scripture: ancient heaven and earth were either celestial realms or a single great cauldron.

Could it be… that the legend was true?

His gaze passed over the woman, toward the seven disciples of Mount Zhongnan hurrying toward a middle-aged man standing with his hands behind his back before the Tomb of the Living Dead.

The seven disciples of Mount Zhongnan asked together.

"Master's Elder Brother, what was that just now? Did the Ascension Platform from a year ago reappear?"

Yang Su noticed the faint weariness on the elder's face and asked with concern:

"Master's Elder Brother, are you alright?"

All faces bore worry—nearly a year had passed since their master Lu Yu ascended.

"I am fine."

Only then did they relax.

Xie Mu stepped forward, bowing respectfully: "Xie Mu, greetings, Master Lu."

Lu Chen slowly turned, hands tucked in his sleeves, the seven disciples of Mount Zhongnan standing solemnly behind him.

Only a pair of bright eyes regarded him.

Though no aura of pressure radiated outward, Xie Mu felt an invisible weight, his heart tightening involuntarily.

He smiled bitterly inside—he had thought that, having traveled the martial world with the Demon Master Huang Dao, he had long since grown indifferent to worldly matters.

After enduring a six-month-long pursuit, his heart had become a still, unrippled well.

Yet now, facing this Prince of Yan, he still trembled like the boy who had first entered the martial world.

The woman in the green skirt hid behind Xie Mu, restless and uneasy, lacking even the courage to raise her eyes.

Xie Mu bowed, fists clasped: "I have come today to ask Master Lu one question."

Lu Chen smiled lightly: "You came here—surely you already have your answer."

His gaze was deep, as if piercing straight into Xie Mu's heart.

"Didn't you once come here together with him? Now you've returned to this old place."

"Demon is not demon, orthodoxy is not orthodoxy—it all lies within your own mind. Why ask me?"

Xie Mu's pupils contracted slightly, then he smiled in understanding: "I understand, thank you, Master Lu, for your guidance."

He bowed deeply, turned, and walked away, his steps now free of hesitation.

The woman in the green skirt also bowed low to Lu Chen, then hurried after Xie Mu, whispering:

"Big Brother Mu, what were you two talking about? I didn't understand a word."

"And where are we going now?"

Xie Mu's eyes gleamed, a surge of boldness rising in his chest: "To the Demon Sect."

"The Demon Sect?" the woman gasped. "Aren't we fleeing for our lives? Isn't this walking straight into a trap?"

Xie Mu laughed loudly, his voice shaking the forest: "I'm going to become the Lord of the Demon Sect!"

The woman paused, then her eyes sparkled with wonder: "Big Brother Mu is the Demon Master's direct disciple, and you carry the Heaven Demon Scripture—who else but you could claim the position of Lord of the Demon Sect?"

Xie Mu laughed heartily, taking the woman's hand as they descended the mountain.

The mountain wind swept past, lifting his robes as they fluttered—just like the Demon Master Huang Dao's entrance into the martial world.

Yang Su watched their retreating figures, shaking his head with a faint smile: "This martial world will lose one Young Master Mu—and gain one Demon Master."

The seven disciples of Mount Zhongnan exchanged glances and smiled, then dispersed.

Mist and clouds rose slowly, enveloping the Tomb of the Living Dead.

Lu Chen, hands tucked in his sleeves, stepped into the Tomb of the Living Dead—and his black hair turned white strand by strand.

The bronze lanterns lining the tomb passage flickered dimly, illuminating his rapidly aging face.

In an instant!

He had transformed from a middle-aged man into an old man with snow-white hair.

He entered the quiet chamber, sat upon the meditation cushion, eyes lowered, as if seeing a figure in the empty air.

Lu Chen slowly carved characters into the blue bricks beneath the cushion, each stroke strong and forceful:

"I ask the immortals above: has my life, Lu Chen, been worthy?"

Lu Chen smiled with his aged face: "Refined all yin impurities within the spirit, achieved ultimate pure yang!"

"We shall meet again!"

Before his words faded, golden light blazed around him.

The light did not come from outside—it radiated from every inch of his skin, as if a rising sun were hidden within his body.

A faint golden aura enveloped him, as if he had merged with heaven and earth.

His spiritual sense sliced like a blade, peeling away darkness and distractions from the depths of his mind; each impurity refined added a thread of pure yang energy.

Gradually, his aura grew purer, like a newly risen sun, radiating boundless light in all directions.

Finally, it dimmed!

Lu Chen was utterly lifeless!

Yu Ke stared at the words Lu Chen had carved into the blue brick, saying nothing.

"I ask the immortals above: has my life, Lu Chen, been worthy?"

(End of Chapter)