Chapter 242: True Flame from the Mouth, Ashes in the Wind
Chapter 242: True Flame from the Mouth, Ashes in the Wind
For half a shichen, the sounds of fighting and agonized cries rang out continuously from the foot of the mountain.
Yet inside the Taoist temple, it remained perfectly peaceful. No sounds of battle could reach within.
Under the assault of thousands of elite soldiers, even the several dozen martial artist Shadow Guards found themselves outmatched and finally defeated, collapsing in pools of blood.
“Thud.”
A soldier pulled out the blood-stained long saber from a Shadow Guard’s chest. Blood dripped from the blade onto the stone slabs beside the mountain stream.
Countless eyes turned to look up the mountain.
“Capture the traitor Zhao alive!”
They gripped their swords and sabers tightly, charging swiftly up the mountain slope.
Hundred households as reward! Thousands of taels of silver!
The chance for sudden wealth and exalted status was right before them. Who could resist being tempted?
Yu Hongjin jumped around crying, “They’re charging up! They’re charging up! Aaaah!”
“My life is over!”
Mo Yuan, sitting by the doorway, stretched lazily.
“Finally here.”
His gaze shifted to the mountain below. He saw countless armored figures storming upward, their eyes filled with greed, blinded by ambition.
“Dragon-Thunder True Flame, vital yang essence, the core burns with flame, warming the twin kidneys…”
A faint light flickered in Mo Yuan’s eyes.
“I call the True Flame!”
As his words fell, True Flame erupted from his mouth. Before the attackers could utter a sound, the flame enveloped them.
Not a single scream was heard from the mountain. In their final moments, terror filled their eyes. Before any wail could escape, the Samadhi True Flame had turned them to ashes.
Ashes rose from the mountain stream, scattering into the wind as dust carried far away.
Yu Hongjin saw the flash of flame. In the next instant, thousands of figures became nothing but drifting ash.
She froze where she stood, unable to stop an involuntary shiver.
“All… all dead…”
Yu Hongjin collapsed onto the ground. Her eyes were blank as she gasped heavily for air, her arms shaking uncontrollably.
She was probably the most cowardly monster ever.
But even if she had more power, she couldn’t have extinguished thousands with a single breath like Moyuan could.
With one exhalation, summoning True Flame, thousands turned to drifting ash.
Everything fell silent, as if nothing had ever happened.
The corpses on the mountain, along with the thousands of soldiers, vanished under that single True Flame, disappearing into nothingness without a trace.
“Neighhhh…”
A few warhorses tethered at the mountain’s base panicked and frantically fled the area.
The only survivors were the two Shadow Guards who had been knocked unconscious by Moyuan earlier; they still hadn’t woken up.
Yu Hongjin stared blankly, muttering, “Do you truly… not fear Heaven’s Retribution?”
Moyuan sat down again, uncaring. “So be it, if it comes. The master values his peace. It falls to me to deal with these rule-breakers. If the Karma sticks to me, it’s fine, as long as the master remains untouched.”
Yu Hongjin stared at him. She truly couldn’t understand why Moyuan, a True Dragon, remained so utterly devoted, guarding the gate of this tiny, dilapidated temple, willingly accepting such Karma from Heaven and Earth.
A wisp of ash landed on Mo Yuan’s shoulder.
He glanced at it, flicked it away with a finger, then opened his mouth and blew out a mighty gust of wind.
It scattered the scent of blood lingering around the mountain stream.
It carried even the ashes of the slain far into the distance.
No disturbances, no trifling dust. At Flowing Cloud Temple, all changes and methods meant nothing.
He might have joked about being just a gatekeeper, but he had never been joking.
In the backyard, Chen Changsheng, who had been reading, withdrew his gaze. He remembered the time of “Water Crossing” when Moyuan had begged for help. Though Moyuan was usually carefree, he had never slipped up on matters like this.
Chen Changsheng summoned him. “Send them off with a warning next time. Inciting this Karmic Retribution only harms your cultivation.”
Mo Yuan simply smiled. “I dealt with it more cleanly, to prevent further trouble. Don’t worry, Master, it won’t happen again.”
“Hmm.”
Chen Changsheng then asked, “How is your Samadhi True Flame cultivation progressing?”
“Still in the preliminary stage,” Moyuan replied.
Chen Changsheng thought for a moment, then reached out and tapped Moyuan’s brow.
Mo Yuan froze, then closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he found himself surrounded by a sea of fire.
True Flame circled him, seeming ready to engulf him. An intense, scorching heat radiated from his Divine Sense.
Instantly, cold sweat streamed down his face.
Though it meant enduring hardship, this was the closest he could get to truly seeing the form and essence of Samadhi True Flame.
Steam continuously rose from Mo Yuan’s body. His brow furrowed deeply as he endured for roughly one shichen.
When he opened his eyes again, a gleam of True Flame radiance shone visibly within them.
He had advanced a full stage! Great Accomplishment!
Mo Yuan felt utterly drained, yet his heart was filled with vast joy.
“Thank you for the impartation, Mr. Chen!”
Chen Changsheng, sitting in the Long Pavilion, gave a dismissive wave. “You should get out more. You’re a True Dragon; playing gate god at this temple doesn’t suit you.”
Mo Yuan scratched his head, grinning. “When you’re not here, Master, I head down the mountain quite often.”
“Hmm.”
Chen Changsheng nodded. Soon after, Mo Yuan left the backyard.
He returned to sit by the temple gate, diligently guarding its entrance.
…
As the sky lightened into a murky dawn.
Zhao Zhen was the first to wake. He made his way to the front courtyard, glanced at the figure sitting by the entrance but didn’t pay him much mind. Instead, he carefully examined the temple.
What caught his attention most was a withered Peach Tree within the grounds.
“A peach tree this huge must be hundreds, perhaps a thousand years old. What a shame…”
Zhao Zhen murmured. Just then, he saw someone climbing the mountain path.
Zhang Xiaoliu, carrying a few green oranges, came up the slope. Spotting Moyuan, he handed him two.
Mo Yuan accepted them with a smile. “Thank you.”
Zhang Xiaoliu grinned. “They’re newly grown; still a bit sour. Give it a couple of days and they should get sweeter.”
“Too sweet makes you sick of it. A touch of sourness is best,” Mo Yuan remarked.
“Ah, that’s true,” Zhang Xiaoliu agreed.
He added, “I’ll head in to offer incense now. Sorry, can’t chat with you further, Young Master Mo.”
“Go ahead,” Moyuan gestured casually.
Zhang Xiaoliu entered the temple and immediately spotted the unfamiliar face.
Zhao Zhen sized him up as well.
“Are you a guest of Mr. Chen?” Zhang Xiaoliu asked.
Zhao Zhen shook his head. “Not exactly. Just stayed here for the night.”
“Is that so.”
Zhang Xiaoliu nodded and handed him a green orange.
Zhao Zhen took it. “Why give this to me?”
Zhang Xiaoliu seemed puzzled by the question. “Why does a gift need a reason? I give, because I give.”
Zhao Zhen held the green fruit, pondered for a moment, then said, “Thanks.”
Zhang Xiaoliu walked further into the temple. He placed a few green oranges before the Divine Statue, then took out incense and candles to offer a sincere prayer.
Three trails of bluish smoke rose within the hall. Peering through the temple doors from outside, Zhao Zhen couldn’t help but think: This felt like a proper temple.
After bowing thrice, Zhang Xiaoliu exhaled a long breath of relief. He then stood up, ready to sweep the stone steps.
“Are you a devotee?” Zhao Zhen asked.
Zhang Xiaoliu thought it over. “You could say that. Or not. I simply come up the mountain every day to pay my respects with incense.”