Chapter 143: The Roar of War Drums

The ancient Futa Temple, standing for ten thousand years, echoed with melodious bell chimes and ethereal Sanskrit chants. It remained as solemn and profound as ever. Entering through the main gate of Mount Wuhua, traversing seven thresholds and passing through four halls and three pavilions, one walked eighty-one yards before finally reaching the stupa forest containing the niches and funerary pagodas of the eminent monks. Yet, this was merely catching a glimpse of the Buddhist realm; thousands of temples and monastic quarters of the boundless Futa Temple were hidden amidst the lofty mountains. Among them resided countless hermits, lay practitioners, and sages possessed of immeasurable virtue and Dharma.

As the evening drum struck nine times, the Jieming Hall, situated in front of the stupas, was already a sea of heads. Elites from various sects had gathered here, the majority being of the younger generation. These individuals had, in the past few days, obeyed the commands of their respective masters to temporarily reside at Futa Temple, shouldering the responsibility of maintaining communication with their sects and acting in concert. In truth, to put it bluntly, they were either beloved disciples whom their masters could not bear to let out of their sight or junior practitioners of low cultivation.

Disciple Fang Xiaotian of the Hundred Flowers Sect and others were among them. Two days had passed since the Daishan Alliance, yet they had received no news whatsoever. The other sects were in the same predicament. Word had spread through the temple this morning that the two venerable monks, Zhikong and Zhixi, had personally gone to Daishan to investigate and would return shortly. Consequently, everyone was waiting here, exchanging fragments of information in the hope of uncovering the truth as soon as possible.

Worry was etched on everyone's faces, and a vague sense of foreboding suggested that this matter was fraught with hidden complications. Just as they were whispering among themselves, hurried bell chimes suddenly rang out from the rear mountain. These chimes were vastly different from those of ordinary days; one stroke followed closely by another with almost no pause, continuing relentlessly even after the ninth toll. Sounds of chaotic footsteps echoed from all corners of the temple. All the monks pressed their palms together and rushed toward the mountain peak, leaving only the sound of rushing wind outside the grand hall.

The evening drum and morning bell were each struck nine times, corresponding to the tribulation number of eighty-one. For such endless bell chimes to ring out at this moment inevitably sowed seeds of suspicion in people's hearts. Several monks from the Tanmen Courtyard and the Dabei Courtyard turned pale with shock, rushing out of the grand hall together, while the crowd silently followed behind, unaware of what had transpired.

"Amitabha. Fellow daoists, please accompany this poor monk to the Xuandao Courtyard. The Abbot and Sect Masters have important matters to discuss."

The monk Liaoxu of the Jieming Hall, dressed in azure robes, walked over in a hurry. Exchanging apprehensive glances, the crowd surged toward the mountain peak in his wake.

The Xuandao Courtyard spanned five to six hundred yards in diameter. Important announcements were usually proclaimed here, and platforms were set up for expounding the scriptures. By the time Fang Xiaotian and the others arrived, the courtyard was already packed with monks and laity of various ranks, arranged in orderly fashion according to seniority. The bell chimes continued for the duration of half an incense stick before finally ceasing. The heads of the various courtyards walked slowly out of the Xuandao Hall, their eyes red-rimmed, some even weeping silently and unable to form words.

"Amitabha. We have just received a message from our two Patriarchs. Our temple's Patriarch Zhiyuan has entered parinirvana at the summit of Mount Daishan." Master Lingpu, head of the Xuandao Courtyard, stepped forward from the crowd, his grief-stricken voice carrying the heavy news to all present.

The monks of Futa Temple were struck dumb with shock. After Lingpu uttered these words, no one spoke for a long time, as if they had all been rendered mute.

The righteous cultivators gathered here were universally appalled and speechless, utterly unable to accept this reality for a moment.

"Amitabha..." From within the Xuandao Courtyard walked three more monks. Clad in gray monastic robes without even a kasaya draped over them, these three gave an impression as majestic and steadfast as three towering mountains.

"Amitabha!" chanted the multitude of monks in unison.

The rest of the gathering either nodded in greeting or cupped their hands in a Daoist salute.

"This time, Junior Brother Zhiyuan entering parinirvana is an unprecedented sorrow for our Futa Temple in a century. However, the sea of Buddhism is boundless; Junior Brother has already attained supreme merit. We who still struggle in this mortal world must once again eliminate demons and uphold the Dao to restore clarity to the world."

The tall, long-bearded elderly monk in the center possessed a gaze like lightning, yet his expression was exceptionally calm. Grasping his Zen staff, his figure stood unmoving—he was none other than Abbot Zhishang of Futa Temple!

Hearing these words, the people from the various righteous sects felt their hearts skip a beat in unison, leaping straight to the worst possible conclusion. Several among them began to tremble slightly.

"Abbot, may I ask if there is any outcome from the deliberations among the various sects at Daishan?" Celestial Master Zhang of the Taiji Courtyard held the highest seniority. Seeing that Abbot Zhishang's words were fraught with hidden meaning and unable to suppress his anxiety, he stepped forward to inquire.

Abbot Zhishang stood with a single palm raised, chanted another Amitabha, and said with a deeply sorrowful expression, "This time, our righteous path gathered at Daishan, originally intending to annihilate the demonic path. Who could have expected that the secret would leak out, causing us to be surrounded and crushed by the elite masters of the Myriad Demonic Heavens? Junior Brothers Zhikong and Zhixi went to investigate, but not a single one of our righteous daoist friends survived. Whether they are alive or dead remains unknown. I have just conferred with my junior brothers and formulated a strategy to meet the immediate crisis. You would do well to first inform your respective sects, report the cause and effect of this matter, and then make your decisions. I sincerely welcome all daoist masters to return to Futa Temple, unite the strength of the righteous path across the world, jointly crusade against the demonic path, and right the cosmos!"

The crowd felt as though they had been struck by lightning, standing frozen in place for a long time. Celestial Master Zhang asked in a strained, hoarse voice, "Abbot, could it be that the Ten Absolute Swords are also missing?"

Fang Xiaotian, Zhao Liu, and the others felt a jolt in their hearts, staring wide-eyed at Abbot Zhishang.

Abbot Zhishang closed his eyes and nodded, then suddenly opened them, ringing out firmly, "The emergence of the myriad demons is precisely the time for us of the righteous path to eradicate evil and promote good. Listen to my command, monks of our temple: starting today, close the mountain gates, decline visits from the mundane world, and let the disciples of the Luohan Hall prepare at any time to descend the mountain and exterminate demons!"

"We obey the Abbot's decree!" The roar of nearly ten thousand monks was like a peal of thunder, shaking the nine heavens.

The disciples of the major sects, however, felt their hearts turn to stone, plunging into a freezing abyss.

...

The Langhuan Hall on Gentleman's Peak of the Hundred Flowers Sect.

"Huang Minghuang dares to be so rampant!" Jun Wuji rose in indignation, his body radiating fierce, flickering sword Qi. *Bang!* The chair behind him shattered instantly, and the jade paving stones beneath his feet turned to dust.

The disciples in the hall lowered their heads, not daring to speak; they had never seen the Sect Master in such a fury.

"You will return to Pillar Peak for the time being. Allow me to ponder this matter." Jun Wuji calmed his emotions and waved his hand. Fang Xiaotian and the others hurriedly took their leave.

"Trouble found you? Do you want me to lend a hand and solve it for you?" A ghostly black shadow materialized in the center of the hall, murmuring with effortless nonchalance.

Jun Wuji gazed at the mysterious figure, shook his head, and said, "Although the Myriad Demonic Heavens are powerful, they can hardly withstand the united righteous path of the world. This is not a matter for the Hundred Flowers Sect alone; there is no need for Your Excellency to act just yet."

"Very well. What you say makes sense, so I shall wait a few more days. The chaos in the cultivation world has already manifested; there is no shortage of adversaries. I had better concentrate on another matter..." The mysterious figure slowly faded away into the grand hall, vanishing just as it had arrived.

"Junior Uncle, Senior Brother, the current situation likely requires troubling you both..." Jun Wuji sighed, transforming into a streak of light that disappeared from the hall.

...

Over seventy miles outside the capital of the Mengliang Kingdom, the Dabei Courtyard.

"Jingjue, has your Uncle Kucan's injuries improved?" In the center of the Great Buddha Hall, an elderly gray-robed monk sat upright upon a straw mat. His face was withered like an aged orange, his eyebrows were white as snow, and his gaze was benevolent.

"Reporting to Patriarch, Uncle Kucan is still in seclusion in the Jingtai Pavilion healing his wounds. According to this disciple's observation, it will take several more months for him to fully recover."

"The Dao wanes as the demon waxes! Our Dabei Courtyard acts ahead of the world's sorrows. In that case, this old monk shall personally go to Futa, and these bones, which have not moved for hundreds of years, are due for some exercise!" The prayer beads spinning in the old monk's hands suddenly stopped, his gaze lifting toward the benevolent countenance of the Buddha in the hall.

"Patriarch!" The monks in the hall cried out in unison.

...

Heavenly Lake of the Tianshan Mountains.

This was the primary forbidden ground of the Tianshan Sword Sect, accessible only to the Sect Master. The boundless Heavenly Lake resembled a mirror, reflecting the azure blue of the sky.

Wan Shixian, the master of the premier sword sect under heaven, had already been kneeling here in the wind and snow for two days. Without close inspection, he was indistinguishable from an ice sculpture.

"My divine art is unfulfilled, and a mere ten years remain until my tribulation. Endure this great calamity for now. If by some lucky chance I do not die ten years hence, I will raze the Myriad Demonic Heavens to the ground. You may withdraw." A faint sigh drifted from the Heavenly Lake. Wan Shixian knew that further kneeling would be futile. With a long sigh, he shook off the ice and snow covering his body, leaving a lonely back behind upon the peak.

...

Within three days in the cultivation world of the Divine Land, all sects received the news that the Battle of Daishan had ended in total defeat. Countless sects closed their doors in a bid for self-preservation, while peerless experts from major sects stepped out from seclusion one after another, gathering at Futa Temple!

...

Meanwhile, in the void tens of millions of miles away, Zhong Wushuang, guardian of the Dragon Diagram of Qi Sea, wore a puzzled expression as he gazed into the "mirror" before him, his brows locked in a heavy frown.

"The Li Sea is normal, the Dan Sea is disordered, so why has it suddenly shifted to the North Sea now? There are far too many suspicious points to this. It seems... it seems as though someone did this deliberately. If so, have I not committed a catastrophic mistake? Will I not have to bear the responsibility for the affairs of the Li and Dan seas all by myself in the future?"

Fear gradually surfaced in Zhong Wushuang's eyes. Suddenly, his expression turned frosty as he reached out and wiped away the image on the mirror, his figure flickering and vanishing from the spot.

...

The Palace of Heavenly Blessing of the Myriad Demonic Heavens.

Huang Minghuang sat upright upon the dragon throne, his eyes slightly closed. Below him stood, in descending order, the left and right envoys, the three great protectors, the eight hall masters, and over sixty cavern masters. One could truly say it was a gathering of formidable talents, every single one possessing cultivation nearing or exceeding the Demon Infant stage.

"Are everyone's arrivals accounted for?" Huang Minghuang swept his gaze across the assembly in the hall and asked in a resonant voice.

"Reporting to the Sect Master, thirteen cavern masters are unable to attend due to being in seclusion," replied the Left Envoy, Consort Xiang, as she stood up.

"Hmm. This matter concerns the rise and fall of our Sacred Cult. I have received reliable intelligence that Futa Temple, the Hundred Flowers Sect, and other sects have gathered hundreds of high-level experts and will launch a massive invasion before long. Among them are numerous super-experts of the loose immortal tier. Do you all have countermeasures?" Huang Minghuang's expression remained ordinary, yet his eyes pierced like bolts of lightning as he closely observed the expressions and demeanor of the crowd.

"What? A hundred high-level experts? Loose immortals!"

"We're done for. Better plot an escape route, brother..."

"Just posturing. Can the loose immortals of all the sects in the Divine Land add up to even ten? Besides, our cult's three Patriarchs are fifth-tribulation loose demons; those second- and third-tribulation loose immortals are no match at all. What is there to fear!"

"Even ants can bite an elephant to death. You'd all better make plans early."

For a moment, various thoughts flew through the grand hall. The various cavern masters exchanged voice transmissions to discuss among themselves while maintaining calm exteriors on the surface.

Seeing no one respond, Huang Minghuang let out a cold snort, called out by name, and said, "Zhuge Weiyan, you tell us—what brilliant strategy do you have?"

This Zhugang Weiyan wore a felt hat and garments woven from grass, resembling a fisherman. Yet, he was the famed strategist of the Myriad Demonic Heavens and concurrently served as the master of the Xuanyu Cavern.

"The saying goes: when soldiers come, block them with general; when water comes, earth-dams block it. Our cult's strength is no less inferior to the other sects. With the three ancestors taking action, the likes of loose immortals are not worth mentioning. However, casualties will be inevitable. When necessary, we can make an issue of the prisoners; if we make them fearful of harming the hostages, our great enterprise can succeed," Zhugang Weiyan advised.

Huang Minghuang surveyed left and right. Seeing that Right Envoy Shangguan Zheng was frowning in silence, he smiled and said, "Hmm. This plan is feasible. Brother Shangguan, do you have any other opinions?"

This Shangguan Zheng was roughly of the same age as Huang Minghuang, and his cultivation was equally unfathomable. His status in the Myriad Demonic Heavens was second only to the Sect Master—truly a demonic overlord beneath one person and above ten thousand. With a jade-white face, flowing white beard, and a striking appearance, he wore a golden cloud-patterned robe and wielded a ten-thousand-mile dust-sweeping fan, cutting the figure of an otherworldly wise sage.

"Sect Master, I believe this plan is unwise. Contending with those bald donkeys and Daoists, unorthodox methods will find it exceedingly difficult to achieve success. We must rely above all on raw strength. Since this time they dare to offend our Sacred Cult, we can leverage the geographical advantage to annihilate them in one fell stroke. Then our Sacred Cult will rise, and the world will be unified!" Shangguan Zheng used his fan to gesture like a conqueror pointing out rivers and mountains, his expression exceptionally arrogant.

"Good! The Sacred Cult shall rise! The world shall be unified! Well said!" Huang Minghuang suddenly stood up and laughed heartily. "Brother Shangguan's plan aligns precisely with my intent. Pass my decree: all disciples and cavern domains of the Myriad Demonic Heavens shall await orders at any time to defend the Sacred Cult and unify the Divine Land!"