Chapter 595: The Battle of Yishan

In the Golden Hall of the Divine Palace, many deities bowed their heads, watching the movements below.

The Bodhisattvas and Vajras of the Western Buddhist Gate had long failed to arrive; the Southern Jade Mirror Emperor outright ignored the Heavenly Mandate; the Eastern Qinghua Emperor, who had long been on good terms with the Supervising Heaven and Subduing Demon Emperor, had been persuaded to stand down; the Western Miaoming Emperor claimed he had already dispatched True Lords and allocated divine troops, yet none had reached Yishan—no one knew if he had truly sent any True Lords or divine generals—Zi Di had always been tyrannical and immensely powerful; even without Fu Chi Shen Jun, his subordinates Chang She and Ju Fang were among the finest warrior deities in Heaven; until now, even the Jade Mirror Emperor had never defied his orders—this was the first time.

This was the first time all sides had defied imperial edicts, facing resistance from every direction, and it weighed heavily on their hearts.

“Monitor all movements closely, especially the south—if any anomaly arises, report immediately!” an old deity stood in the center of the hall, addressing several young divine officials, “and be ready at all times: should the Nine Heavens depose any deity, you must immediately send dreams to mortals, ensuring the Zi Xiao Palace, the Mortal Ministry of Rites, and the abbots of all major temples know—swiftly remove the relevant statues.”

“Yes…”

The divine officials dispersed to carry out their duties.

Several other deities, aged and venerable, gathered before the Mirror of Heaven, observing the mortal realm.

Suddenly, a golden-robed deity lifted his head, eyes brightening:

“Your Majesty! Yishan has fallen!”

“Hmm?”

The Heavenly Emperor raised his brow and rose to look.

“Beneath the heavenly flames, aided by the assaults of four True Lords and four Supreme Immortals, plus the support of the Four Divine Departments, the spiritual mist within the mountain has been utterly dissipated!”

“Hmph! I doubt they can breach Yishan anytime soon!”

“These True Lords are martial deities, seasoned warriors; though Qianshan holds more immortals, in direct combat they are no match for these True Lords—especially with the Nine Heavens’ divine forces aiding them. I say they’ll break it in three days!”

As he spoke, another white cloud drifted in.

It was Tianji Shangshen.

“Your Majesty, the old deity has located Chang She and Ju Fang!”

“Where are they?”

“...”

Tianji Shangshen’s expression flickered with unease, but he dared not delay, bowing swiftly: “They are… outside the mountain, right beside the hot springs—there’s a tiny flower, within which lies its own world; Chang She, Ju Fang, several warships, and dozens of divine generals are all inside.”

The deities in the hall exchanged glances.

They had heard rumors of recent events—

Tianyan and Jintong, the two spirit officials, had scoured the outer seas and the northern frontier for over half a year, day and night, their eyes said to be nearly blinded, yet found nothing; some deities had even speculated the two might have been reduced to ash by Lin Zhen—but now they learned they were right beside Yishan.

One deity fell silent.

“Heh, moved them to some remote, uninhabited wasteland beyond the seas or frontiers…”

Zi Di smiled at him.

Tianji Shangshen instantly grew fearful.

“Your Majesty, how could your humble servant be so foolish? I did consider the possibility of oversight—yet… yet that spot lies right next to Yishan, shielded by the mountain’s spiritual mist and the steam from the hot springs, and with the commotion of the True Lords’ assault, Tianyan and Jintong checked twice and saw nothing!”

“I’ll not punish you now,” Zi Di said. “Where are Ju Fang and Chang She now?”

“I’ve already summoned them out!” Tianji Shangshen wiped sweat from his brow. “That flower was inexplicably resilient—I sent three divine generals down to chop at it, but none could split it; then I called Qingmiao Zhenjun, who was fighting on the mountain, to cut it—but still no luck. Finally, I had a sudden idea: I poured in half a cup of water. When it overflowed, the two True Lords and the divine generals emerged.”

The deities in the hall had no time to marvel at this oddity.

“Send them both immediately! Order them to take the mountain within three days!” Zi Di himself commanded.

At this moment, Yishan was a minor matter—but only by swiftly capturing it could he restore his authority as Heavenly Emperor and pacify all quarters, so that the next campaign against demons and monsters might proceed.

Tianji Shangshen replied that the two True Lords had already departed for Yishan.

The two True Lords had already departed for Yishan, brimming with fury.

Ju Fang Shen Jun stood thirty zhang tall—the very origin of the myth that “Longbo giants could grow to thirty zhang.” He wore massive black-gold armor, with a Divine-Striking Whip at his waist, yet he never used it, fighting only with his enormous fists.

His opponents were several stone giants, also thirty zhang tall—not summoned by any immortal’s “Turn Stone into Warrior” technique, but incarnations of the Yishan Mountain God.

Ju Fang swung one fist, meeting a stone giant’s fist head-on—and shattered it, along with the entire arm. He followed with a rear punch, piercing the giant’s chest.

Another stone giant swung its arm from behind, striking Ju Fang’s shoulder—yet only sent him stumbling two steps sideways!

A third stone giant tore a peculiar mountain from the ground—this mountain stood tall and straight, its peak sharp like a brush, with an ancient pine sprouting from its tip, resembling a flower; this was one of the famed sights of Heishan, now wielded as a spear, thrusting toward Ju Fang’s face.

But Ju Fang sidestepped, darting into the stone giant’s embrace, closing the distance and robbing it of room to attack.

He twisted his body, gathering force—then unleashed a punch upward from the giant’s abdomen, bursting out through its shoulder, piercing its entire body!

Three more stone giants surrounded him, some charging, others crushing down upon him.

Here, no magic or divine arts existed—only earth-shattering, mountain-splitting divine strength, fists meeting flesh, brutally raw.

Even with every step or shift of his body, countless plants and trees in the mountain shattered.

Beneath the legs of Ju Fang and the stone giants, as they clashed and advanced, a female Daoist rode a thundercloud, one hand holding a fly-whisk, the other a longsword, dueling Chang She Shen Jun, who also held a sword.

*Clang!* Divine light and spiritual radiance erupted like stars—Chang She’s sword cleaved the Daoist clean away!

In the next instant, Chang She became a streak of light, sword in hand, chasing after her—but just as he neared, she dissolved into a breeze, vanishing.

“Hah!”

Chang She’s eyes flashed gold—he roared, unleashing an invisible sonic wave—since he did not know where the Daoist had fled, he blasted the very breeze itself apart!

As expected, the Daoist reappeared from the dissipating wind, flung backward.

Yet her true body was not as fragile as ordinary immortals—she swiftly reversed her posture midair, kicked off Ju Fang’s leg to dissipate force, then raised her fly-whisk and pointed—

“Mountain Presses Down!”

“Are all your brothers’ techniques the same?” Chang She snarled. “Too bad I was in the frontier back then—your three brothers together barely forced me to retreat. Now, beneath the Nine Heavens’ Palace, you’re alone—how dare you—”

He stopped mid-sentence, sensing something wrong.

Infinite earth-elemental energy and mountain spirit surged toward him, giving him the illusion that all the earth-elemental power of the entire mountain had gathered here—he nearly looked up, fearing a towering black mountain was descending upon his head.

*Boom!* Chang She plummeted from the sky!

The next instant, he slowly rose again.

“Aaaah!!!”

Chang She gritted his teeth, sword in hand, face twisted in agony, eyes bulging red, veins bursting—as if an invisible mountain crushed his body.

Yet this deity, not famed for brute strength, actually bore the mountain’s weight and slowly ascended.

Now he could not move at all.

He hurled his sword.

*Shu-shu-shu…*

His sword instantly multiplied into thousands, tens of thousands.

“Go!”

Chang She groaned, unable to lift his arm, yet raised two fingers and pointed.

The junior sister widened her eyes.

All swords transformed into a silver river in midair, rushing straight toward her.

Without hesitation, she turned and fled on her cloud.

The Daoist, riding the thundercloud, darted between the stone giants’ waists—the silver sword-river followed. She used her small size to fly straight toward Ju Fang’s back, then, leveraging the thundercloud’s speed and agility, sharply veered upward as she neared.

Looking down, she saw hundreds or even thousands of swords striking Ju Fang’s back armor—*ding-ding-dong!* Sparks erupted endlessly.

“Aaah…”

Ju Fang screamed in pain.

Clearly, a sword had pierced him.

But as she climbed higher, the trailing swords turned ahead, chasing her toward the heavens.

The junior sister raised a finger—

The talisman in her arms grew warm.

*Boom…*

Another thundercloud spread above Chang She’s head, and several lightning bolts descended, centered on him.

But burdened by the mountain, he could not dodge.

The Daoist circled in midair; the sword-river followed. As she turned back, aiming straight for Ju Fang’s nape, she saw the deity suddenly turn—his face twisted in fury, left hand open, palm outstretched toward her.

The thundercloud accelerated, slipping through his fingers.

But his right hand had already drawn the Divine-Striking Whip, swinging down at the retreating Daoist.

Yet a voice rang out from nowhere—

“Dragon Play!”

The Daoist turned—Chang She’s whip had transformed into a black dragon, writhing violently in his grip, struggling to escape.

But Ju Fang’s strength was immense—even the dragon could not break free.

She made no hesitation, raised her fly-whisk and pointed.

“Mountain Presses Down!”

*Boom!* A mountain instantly crushed onto the towering deity, forcing him to kneel, smashing a deep crater into the earth.

In a daze, countless swords surged back.

The Daoist’s expression remained grim—she spat, and a torrent of true fire erupted, blotting out sky and sun.

The swords, unafraid, pierced straight through the flames.

But as each blade glowed red-hot and emerged from the fire, the Daoist and thundercloud were gone—replaced by an eight-tailed white fox.

An old immortal in heaven, fingers forming a seal, cast down a golden light.

The golden light struck the earth—the ground trembled violently, mountains collapsed.

It was the Great Shaking of Mountains and Earth!

He had just cast it once, preparing to cast again—when a flash of lightning appeared, and a thundercloud, bearing a Daoist with fly-whisk in left hand and sword in right, stood before him.