Chapter 967: Only the Heretical Paths Prove the Great Dao

Chi Fenruo gazed at the mural in the church, depicting ten thousand souls united, the Annunciation.

The divine-channeling old Daoist beside him, clutching a broom of human hair, narrowed his pupils.

“Such a strange Dao, such a heretical Dao Fruit!”

The divine-channeling old Daoist exhaled deeply, a tremor resonating from his chest.

Chi Fenruo smiled: “See? This is the Dao of the Constellators. All twelve Constellators of this world are such beings. The Dao Lords are no longer human; our Tai Sui Alliance’s goal is to ascend among them and become the Thirteenth Constellator.”

“If the Holy Son attains a Dao Fruit, he too should become a Constellator,” the divine-channeling old Daoist asked hesitantly. “Then why does the Alliance not pursue this Dao Fruit, but instead...?”

“A Dao Fruit is the manifestation of a cultivator’s own Dao—always sought within oneself. Those who seek it outwardly become puppets of another’s Dao. Since the Dao Ancestor opened the Taiyi Dao, only cultivators who twisted the Dao with their own will have attained Dao Fruits. Yet to conform to the Dao, one must twist one’s own will...”

The divine-channeling old Daoist asked anxiously: “And then what?”

“You will become a ‘god’!”

Chi Fenruo shrugged, grinning wickedly at the old Daoist. “You don’t actually think you’ll become a puppet, do you? A Dao Fruit is the supreme treasure, the ultimate prize—even if not your own, it is still a manifestation of Heaven and Earth’s Dao. To possess it is to become immortal and indestructible.”

“Before the Supreme One opened Heaven, there were no immortals, no Dao Lords—only gods!”

Watching the old Daoist’s eyes burn with envy, Chi Fenruo swept his sleeve and left.

“So whether the Master of Xuanzhen is a Lunhuizhe or a native...”

“Before the true grand scheme, they are insignificant. At this end of the age, at least seven Dao Fruits are vying for attainment. What follows will be the drama of the Immortal Sages! Xuanzhen Sect, with only one person, can barely hold back Zhigukou—let alone the capital? The whole realm?”

“What you must consider now is not Xuanzhen Sect, but swiftly seize the Five Organs’ First Path and take that step—to become a player.”

“Only then can I, the true player, hide perfectly behind you, waiting for the right moment!”

…………

At the Medicine King Temple, the Lunhuizhe Yang Qin’s face was grim as he stared at the old man smoking a pipe, whispering nervously: “Captain, must we really do this?”

“I think now isn’t the time to break with Xuanzhen Sect! The Master of Xuanzhen is mysterious and unpredictable—I can still probe his depths from within...”

The old man tapped his pipe and chuckled: “Now is precisely the time. And the True Immortal has ordered it—this water at Zhigukou isn’t murky enough. We must push it further!”

As he spoke, a wisp of smoke escaped his mouth; with a sweep of his sleeve, the smoke grew larger.

Soon it swelled into rolling clouds within his sleeve; with a wave of his hands, the vast mist spread rapidly, soon engulfing the entire Yangliuqing Town.

Like thick morning fog, not a hand could be seen before one’s face.

After dispersing the mist, the old man panted twice, then drew another puff from his pipe. This time, the smoke circled thrice in his lungs, transforming into vivid, colorful vapor laced with miasma and deadly poison, silently drifting toward the Medicine King Temple.

Watching this display, Yang Qin’s face darkened further.

The seductive woman beside him glanced at him, leaned close, and let the old man grip her chest twice before smiling sweetly: “Captain, your smoke cultivation has improved so much! This smoke was once considered lowly among the Hundred Heretical Paths, but under your hands, it’s grown ever more potent and divine.”

The old man laughed: “You know how to speak.”

Seeing neither cared for his stance, Yang Qin made one final plea: “Boss, I think the Master of Xuanzhen may well be an Immortal. The Black Tai Sui is no trivial thing even within the Alliance. Rushing to break with Xuanzhen now—unless the True Immortal himself steps forward to back us—we have no protection. But the True Immortal hasn’t appeared, hasn’t shown himself—just one order to break with Xuanzhen. What if the Master of Xuanzhen truly is...?”

“What ‘what if’?” the seductive Yu Meiren laughed. “Break with him? So what? According to you, the Master of Xuanzhen is Fifth Realm—merely a Nascent Soul, a Yin Spirit cultivator. The Immortal Sages of this world are merely Yang Spirit. What realm is our Alliance’s True Immortal?”

“Below the Primordial Spirit, all are ants.”

“That Master of Xuanzhen is merely a slightly bigger ant! What, do you dare defy our Alliance’s True Immortal, the Heavenly Demon?”

“Our Tai Sui Alliance has twelve True Immortals! To us, this world is nothing but a mine producing precious resources!”

Yu Meiren added with meaning: “I think you’re not afraid of the Master of Xuanzhen catching you off guard—you’re afraid of the Black Tai Sui inside you.”

Yang Qin’s face turned ashen with rage. “I joined Xuanzhen for the team’s sake. Even if I have reservations, isn’t that natural?”

The old man exhaled smoke, shaping it into fluttering cranes that flew among them.

“Enough. Don’t let internal strife spoil our harmony.”

No sooner had he spoken than the smoke cranes transformed into flying swords, silencing all further speech. Satisfied, the old man nodded at Yang Qin: “As for the Black Tai Sui, the True Immortal will lift the seal for you. We have True Immortals backing us—what’s there to fear from a heretical sect in a mere plot world?”

“One talisman from the True Immortal, and even the true Gu will be purged from you!”

Yang Qin could only nod, took the knife offered by Yu Meiren, and stepped into the Medicine King Temple.

The mermaid lay quietly in the side hall, several strange organs temporarily nurtured upon her, sustained by her aquatic essence and her perverse Immortal power. Dou Dabibao glanced at the excited Westerners gathered around the mermaid and whispered to Bei Xianü: “Master, look at those Westerners—they mean no good! My eyeball and your tongue are treasures; the Worm King’s ears are probably hidden there too.”

“I think they’re assembling the Five Organs!”

“They don’t actually mean to forge an alternative Immortal Path, do they?”

Bei Xianü had just been treated by the Westerners for her tongue; to cook dishes rivaling the Master of Xuanzhen’s divine flesh, she needed her tongue healed. According to Dou Dabibao, their healing method was heretical—they’d applied some unknown medicine to her tongue.

Each tiny bump of a taste bud wriggled, transforming into fleshy sprouts that crawled down her tongue like ants.

Even Dou Dabibao, who’d seen much, felt a chill run down his spine.

Any ordinary person would have fainted on the spot!

Bei Xianü’s tongue now had no taste buds—they’d regrow tomorrow during treatment. She couldn’t speak, only waved her hand, signaling Dou Dabibao to stop worrying.

Beside her, the young scholar, master of the Dragon Jade Nose, read a book. Seeing Dou Dabibao look over, he smiled and nodded politely.

This scholar suffered from “Aroma Sickness”—obsessed with fragrance, he vomited violently at the slightest odor, nearly dying. Fortunately, he was born wealthy, the only son of Yang Ban Cheng, whose land spanned three counties and whose property occupied half the city.

He had endless money to spend on fragrances.

Later, he somehow angered the Aroma Sect, who demanded he become their Holy Son. Even Yang Ban Cheng couldn’t withstand such a rebel sect, so they secretly sent him to Zhigukou.

Now he’d come of his own accord, drawn by reputation, and the Three Emperors’ Assembly had cured his Aroma Sickness.

They removed a Greedy Aroma Worm from his nose.

Now that worm hid inside the mermaid’s nostril.

After the Worm King went deaf, he wandered alone to the right side hall.

A cry rang out...

Everyone in the Medicine King Temple snapped to attention. Dou Dabibao rushed ahead into the right side hall, where beneath the Nightlord Demon King statue, the Worm King lay dead, a blade piercing his chest.

His ears were two bloody holes; the ears and cochleae had vanished, revealing his brain through the openings.

A young acolyte holding a vegetarian meal stood frozen in terror.

“Someone’s dead!”

Dou Dabibao and the nearby Hua Physician exchanged glances—this was a massive problem.

Among the Westerners discussing nearby, a tall blond doctor sneered at Schilling: “Dr. Schilling, you’re a top graduate of Miskatonic Medical College—surely you’ve realized? The Easterners are assembling the Five Organs, luring people with malformed and mutated organs here.”

“I deeply respect Truth Alchemy—it’s the origin of our Western esotericism,” Schilling emphasized. “But the Society for Deformed Humans and the Society for Alien Medicine are heretical, as recognized by the Holy Church.”

“Human Alchemy is a forbidden art!”

“You cannot forge a Perfect Human here...”

The tall doctor turned to his colleagues: “We all brought mutated organs to the Eastern Continent. That ship transporting the Demonic God is the Western Medical Society’s pinnacle of surgical and research technology. The Easterners have already gathered four facial organs—such perfect benign mutations are unimaginably rare.”

“I’ve heard the Eastern doctors also hide a corpse with multiple transcendent organs.”

“The Easterners have begun killing!”

“I propose we contribute our transcendent organs and begin our Frankenstein experiment!”

…………

By the South Canal case, a Daoist wearing glasses led his disciples selling talismans.

Counting the money in his hand, the Daoist cheered: “Students, in two more days we’ll have enough for our return fare! We’ll never come to this ghost-ridden Zhigukou again! Alas! We lost the Corpse King—who knows how the Sect Master will punish us!”

One of his disciples tugged his sleeve; the Daoist looked up to see the White Lotus Holy Maiden seated in a four-person palanquin, watching him.

The Daoist froze, raised his copper coin sword, and trembled: “D...demoness, what do you want?”

“I won’t hold you accountable for stealing the Corpse King. Your White Lotus Sect stirs trouble in the north; our Maoshan Sect guides souls in the south—we keep to our own waters. I warn you: White Lotus Sect also reveres the Three Creators, but Daoism is their true lineage. If you kill us, the Cauldron Mother will punish you.”

“True lineage?” the White Lotus Holy Maiden smiled. “Daoist, your vision is still limited. Whether Daoism, Buddhism, Confucianism, or the Western Holy Church—the more ‘orthodox,’ the less likely one is to attain the Dao.”

“In this world, only the heretical paths can prove the Great Dao!”

Without waiting for a reply, the White Lotus Sect rose and departed...

The glasses-wearing Daoist lowered his copper coin sword and sighed: “Do you think I don’t know? Alas, on the Dao path, only one can attain a single Great Dao—the Three Creators’ orthodox paths are already claimed by them! So we must twist their teachings to forge new Dao paths. Otherwise, why does Maoshan focus so much on corpse-driving and ghost-expelling?”

“But forging a new Dao path—how easily can that be achieved?”

“Better to first secure steady Immortality...” the Daoist muttered. “Immortality—that *is* the Dao.”