Chapter 57: A Single Finger
Chapter 57: A Single Finger
“The Great Chu had reigned supreme for centuries under thirteen emperors, its might drawing countless clans to bow before it. Yet when the cultivation tide arrived, even this mighty dynasty became like a sandcastle, collapsing at the slightest touch.” Deputy Master Wen Zhong fanned himself as he surveyed the chaos below. This imperial city had once been the object of his aspirations.
His repeated failures in imperial exams had driven him down a darker path, transforming him into one of the realm’s most feared villains after the great upheaval.
“Didn’t Ask Immortal Pavilion crush the Western Barbarians last month?” Wuxiang Lord made casual conversation.
In modern terms, these two would be terrorist leaders deserving more than mere gunfire.
“Savages are no better than livestock.”
“Your Cold Mountain Temple has Four Lords representing different karmic attainments. Lord Wu Fa bears the Sinflame Asura King’s mantle. What’s yours?” Wen Zhong’s curiosity about Wuxiang Lord’s power flickered.
Wuxiang Lord’s calm expression shifted as both men suddenly fell silent.
“Visitors?”
“Dragon Guards. Many.”
Wen Zhong snapped his fan shut, but Wuxiang Lord stepped forward.
“Didn’t you want to see my karmic form?”
Wen Zhong withdrew his energy as Wuxiang Lord’s arm sank into stone.
CRACK!
The earth split as countless roots erupted like serpents, engulfing half the palace. Wuxiang Lord’s human form vanished, replaced by bark-like skin and blood-red branches.
Wuxiang Tree—Crimson Willow!
“What monstrosity is this?!”
“Roots—”
“AAAGH!”
Dragon Guards fell screaming as bloodthirsty roots impaled them, the Distortion growing wilder after drinking their blood.
BOOM!
A black-robed emperor strode through air above the main hall, his majestic aura crushing all resistance. Twelve earthen dragons swirled around him—this man alone suppressed seventh-tier experts from both invading factions.
“The Chu Emperor’s totem is actually a dragon.”
“Expected from one who awakened with Buddha. Peak Nascent Soul strength.”
“Three Nascent Souls guard this palace—the Emperor, that Rites Office eunuch, and National Master Zhang He.” Wen Zhong marveled at Great Chu’s hidden might while sensing energy flares elsewhere.
Most cultivators never reached Nascent Soul Stage, yet here stood three. Only through their alliance could Cold Mountain Temple and Ask Immortal Pavilion breach these defenses.
“More destruction before Zhang He returns.”
“Agreed.”
Having delayed for long enough with most traps neutralized, the two finally made their move. They rushed toward their faction’s designated targets – Ask Immortal Pavilion aimed for the royal vault while Cold Mountain Temple approached Sky Prison.
The northern wall of Sky Prison.
After seizing the main hall, Blood Willow’s tendrils soon reached this area. Wuxiang Lord manipulated roots to breach the prison’s stone walls.
The Blood Willow manifestation grew stronger with each death.
Wuxiang Lord’s aura now tripled its initial intensity, his bark-like skin darkening to crimson. Arrows clinked harmlessly against his hide. Even those enhanced with Power of the Totem only superficially pierced the surface before getting lodged.
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Deputy Master Wen Zhong from Ask Immortal Pavilion had disappeared, likely targeting other palace strongholds.
“Prison break?”
“Heh…”
Guttural echoes emerged from the prison depths as crimson eyes blinked awake. The royal family’s deepest dungeon held only the worst demons – mass murderers all.
Outer cell inmates retained human semblance, but deeper dwellers twisted into monstrosities. When cosmic laws shifted, not all pursued orthodox cultivation. Before Ask Immortal Pavilion, there existed a deranged clan that grafted limbs from powerful victims onto themselves, attempting to assemble an immortal through patchwork.
Though more reviled than Ask Immortal Pavilion, this cult vanished swiftly under universal condemnation. Few realized the royals had imprisoned their strongest members here.
“If not me, then who?”
Standing at Sky Prison’s entrance, Wuxiang Lord unleashed roots from his body, shattering containment gates…
In Suzhou’s Qing Stone Alley, Zuo Meng opened meditative eyes that pierced reality itself.
“Time.”
He pointed at empty space. Invisible energy rippled through the void before dissipating, restoring calm.
Far north in the chaotic capital, power surged through the palace.
A finger materialized.
Deputy Master Wen Zhong, reveling in his vault raid, took the spectral digit through his chest before he could react. The impact hurled him through a dozen structures toward northern Sky Prison.
CRASH!
A bloodied silhouette smashed into a giant stone, collapsing. Wuxiang Lord rushed over, shocked to recognize his recent companion.
“Ancient Deities… intervened…” The once-elegant Deputy Master choked blood, grip tightening on Wuxiang Lord’s arm before going limp, eyes glaring in eternal protest.
Ancient Deities?!
Living ones?!
Wuxiang Lord paled. None understood Ancient Deities better than Cold Mountain Temple. Their leader Jie Ming, the Reborn Buddha, merely borrowed divine remnants. The temple’s ultimate ambition was becoming Ancient Deities themselves to forge a pure Buddhist realm.
Wen Zhong’s dying revelation shattered Wuxiang Lord’s perception completely.