Chapter 828: Karmic Collection

In the deep autumn of the eleventh year of Emperor Tang Tang Tianqi's reign, Qingming hosted another Dao Foundation Ceremony, drawing over fifty thousand cultivators—including local Qingming cultivators, disciples from the Bao, Xiao, Xu, and Southern Qi Li families, the three Cui clans, Dao soldiers of Tai Chu Palace, and wandering cultivators from across the land—causing a nationwide uproar that even reached the Tang court, prompting the dispatch of Grand General Wei Wei Boyang to observe the rites.

On the central altar of the Wu tribe's vanguard army, coiled a Yu Wu with a serpent body dozens of zhang long, its upper torso bearing four arms, its entire frame covered in silvery-white scales that shimmered with flowing water-like light.

Dozens of military intelligence scrolls floated around it, its four arms constantly moving, finishing one batch and immediately drawing in another. It had long, flowing silver hair and silver eyes devoid of pupils. It was Liu Lan, a trusted lieutenant of Tian Wu Lord Huiye, commander of this vanguard army.

Seeing one intelligence report, it suddenly erupted in fury: "Qingming is holding a celebration in ten days?! My army is only a thousand li away—how dare it still have the nerve to hold a celebration?!"

Around the altar, dozens of great shamans knelt on the ground, none daring to speak.

Liu Lan pointed a finger before him, and a map appeared, clearly marking the current position of the army and Qingming's border. Ahead of the army, the canal had already been dug to within five hundred li of Qingming, wider and deeper than during the Grandmaster Hongye period.

"Order: mobilize all commoners to dig the canal at full speed—minimum thirty li per day! In nine days, the canal must advance to within two hundred li of Qingming. I will launch the assault the day before their celebration—I want to see how they handle their own festivities!"

The order flew to the front lines. Wu army commanders immediately ordered massive cauldrons brought forth, pouring in countless blood-red liquids, boiling them, then forcing the laboring Wu commoners to drink. Those who drank the blood wine immediately surged with unnatural vigor, unaware of fatigue, endlessly digging to the beat of war drums and military music.

Their life potential had been fully awakened by secret drugs; within three or five days, when the effects faded, they would die. But the army commander had issued a death order, so no one cared about the lives of these hundreds of thousands of commoners and slaves. More slaves and commoners would continuously arrive from the rear—when one died, two more would replace it.

At this time, Xiang Little Wei Yuan arrived at Qingming's front line to conduct routine inspections of the defenses and readiness.

After more than half a year of preparation, Xiang Little Wei Yuan had established three defensive lines, forming a depth of nearly a hundred li. Scattered across the lines were over a dozen small cities, each capable of housing tens of thousands, all roughly equal in size, with no distinction between main and secondary. This was Xiang Little Wei Yuan's defense against the Wu tribe's potential massive assault—crushing the Wu Dao Domain and then using blood curses to slaughter entire cities.

Now, with only small cities and no central stronghold, the Wu tribe's great curses had nowhere to land. Spending vast amounts of sacrificial power to kill merely ten thousand people would be an unacceptable loss. Such great curses—even if commanded by a Heavenly Wu—could be used at most two or three times.

The defenses and troops were sound, but reconnaissance reported that the Wu tribe had significantly accelerated progress: a million slaves and commoners had drunk the blood wine and were now fully unleashing their life potential, digging the canal with all their strength. If this continued for seven or eight days, they would enter striking range.

Seeing the Wu tribe's movements, Xiang Little Wei Yuan frowned slightly. He had carefully timed everything: the Wu vanguard should arrive at Qingming around the first month, when the Dao Foundation Ceremony had just concluded, the newly established Dao Foundation cultivators had stabilized their foundations, morale across the realm was at its peak, and elders from allied families would still be stationed in Qingming—should the situation turn dire, they would naturally intervene.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan's plan had been perfect—but the Wu tribe refused to cooperate, insisting on advancing and starting war prematurely.

Yet Xiang Little Wei Yuan had already invested heavily in this Dao Foundation Ceremony and would not allow the Wu tribe to ruin it. He immediately ordered missile units from the rear to deploy to the front and rearm with newly developed high-explosive warheads.

Half a day later, at dusk, dozens of missiles surged skyward from Qingming, flying toward the Wu canal construction site.

At the canal's end, a dam had been built; before it lay a twenty-li stretch of freshly dug channel, densely packed with laborers working day and night without rest. Occasionally, a Wu laborer would suddenly collapse, and guards would drag the bodies away, unknown where. Suddenly, tiny sparks appeared in the sky—dozens of meteors streaked across the heavens, then rapidly descended upon the worksite.

Several divine archers among the Wu guards immediately let out piercing war cries and fired arrows at blazing meteors with lightning speed.

Having witnessed the Battle of Rain Kingdom, these divine archers knew Qingming possessed a weapon called "missile" or "rocket," notoriously difficult to intercept. Thus, dozens of divine archer shamans had been specially stationed at the front-line worksites to intercept rockets.

The divine archers shot like wind—each shaman firing dozens of arrows in the blink of an eye. But this time, the fire meteors suddenly accelerated, doubling their speed, instantly leaving all intercepted arrows far behind.

Then the dozens of rockets scattered, descending upon the Wu laborers along the river. Dozens of massive fireballs erupted into the sky, unleashing countless fragments across the land—each missile covered a hundred-zhang radius, spraying at least thousands of fragments.

Fine dust rose densely from the ground; vast swathes of Wu commoners collapsed without warning. Even some great shamans felt searing pain—struck by dense fragments.

Great shamans, with thick hides, suffered only flesh wounds from fragments—but slaves and commoners struck by even one fragment suffered fatal injuries. One rocket barrage brought down tens of thousands of Wu commoners, left hundreds of Wu soldiers and nobles wounded, and even two great shamans suffered serious injuries.

The Wu worksite erupted into chaos. Many commoners dropped their tools and fled in all directions; Wu soldiers lost all will to maintain order, frantically fleeing for their lives—after all, several Wu soldiers had just died before their eyes.

Before the first wave of chaos ended, the second missile barrage arrived. This strike covered a wider area with greater precision, deliberately targeting dense clusters of Wu forces, instantly inflicting devastating casualties.

After two waves of strikes, Wu casualties reached seventy to eighty thousand, bringing the worksite to a complete halt.

One of Xiang Little Wei Yuan's Dao soldiers hovered in the air, continuously transmitting battlefield footage to the rear. Xiang Little Wei Yuan's true body remained hidden over a hundred li away, guiding the missile strikes with his spiritual sense.

At this moment, thin threads of black-red karmic energy flowed toward Xiang Little Wei Yuan, entering the human world's smoke and fire. Xiang Little Wei Yuan remained unmoved, focused on observing the Wu movements, assessing whether a third long-range strike was needed. But from current observations, it seemed unnecessary.

No Wu laborers remained on the canal site—only scattered, fleeing, hiding Wu. Karmic energy continuously rose from the corpses of dead Wu, all pointing toward Xiang Little Wei Yuan.

At this moment, the Red Lotus Honglian Puti had absorbed enough karmic energy, its branches bent under the weight. Each branch tip glowed faintly with crimson flame, silently burning upward, growing fiercer, coalescing into a massive crimson glow. Suddenly, the crimson flame seemed to burst through some deep darkness, shuddered violently, then erupted outward—a brilliant red light shot straight into the heavens, and boundless Buddhist power surged from it like a tidal wave, as it ascended to a new stage.

In the human world's smoke and fire, golden karmic clouds gathered in the sky, forming a towering, cloud-piercing mountain, upon which thousands of Buddhas and Arhats appeared, all opening their eyes and fixing their gaze upon the Red Lotus Honglian Puti below!

(End of Chapter)