97: Chapter 97 Monument of Kindness
"Furthermore..."
"If this finger descends, the Great Zhou will surely perish."
Upon hearing this, the expressions of everyone present darkened.
A heavy atmosphere, like a block of lead, pressed down on everyone's hearts, making it almost impossible to breathe.
"Amitabha."
Huikong's expression was compassionate, and he said calmly, "The Gate of the Dead World... I can barely suppress it anymore."
The Gate of the Dead World opposite them was faintly on the verge of breaking through that thin layer of golden light.
That golden light, originally brilliant and dazzling, was now trembling and flickering under the impact of the powerful force from the Gate of the Dead World, like a candle in the wind, liable to be extinguished at any moment.
The strange, eerie images on the door shimmered with a dark light, seemingly mocking the group's futile resistance.
"I can give it a try."
Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi gently placed his slender right hand on his sword scabbard, preparing to draw his blade.
His gaze was like a torch, his expression resolute, but his tense muscles and slightly trembling fingers betrayed the nervousness in his heart.
"Everyone, you have only recently awakened, whereas I have existed in this world since the first generation. I have witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, and then their rise and fall once more."
"For this very moment, I have waited for one thousand two hundred and seven years."
"Let me protect you for this final lifetime."
Having said this.
Under the shocked gazes of the First Emperor and Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi, The Old Monk shot up toward the sky...
The seventh year of Hongwu. Early summer.
A terrifying phantom appeared above the Great Zhou, suppressing the present and threatening to crush eternity.
An old monk tore through the void, descending upon the world like an ancient god.
His body shone with Buddhist light, and with every step he took, melodic Sanskrit chants accompanied him, causing ripples to spread through the void beneath his feet.
The Old Monk's face was solemn, his eyes as deep as the sea. He wore a tattered kasaya, yet his dignity remained undiminished, even enhanced by a touch of world-weariness.
The Old Monk parted his lips, and lotuses bloomed from his words.
"The world is but a lodging for travelers, and the human realm is filled with suffering."
"I, Huikong, shall erect a Monument of Compassion for the Great Zhou, both inside and outside this imperial city."
He closed his eyes and pressed his palms together.
And above his head was that Finger of the Heavens.
That finger was unimaginably huge, like a pillar reaching the heavens, exuding an aura that chilled the soul.
The entire sky, before that fingertip, was like fragile paper, liable to be torn apart with ease at any moment.
The Old Monk lowered his head and chanted scriptures, his body suddenly erupting with Buddhist light.
As the finger slowly descended, the monk's Buddhist light began to tremble, on the verge of collapse.
The Finger of the Heavens was truly terrifying.
Crimson, ink-like blood began to seep out from his tattered kasaya.
The blood-covered old monk's lips trembled slightly.
He gazed at the finger so close to him, his eyes filled with complex emotions, and murmured with his head bowed.
"Master, you said that in all the heavens and earth, there is no one who cannot be killed, no one who cannot be destroyed. When I was young, I never understood."
"But now, I understand. Yet the truth I have come to understand runs contrary to yours."
"I say that in all the heavens and earth, there is no one who cannot be saved, no one who cannot be allowed to live."
As soon as he finished speaking.
"Clang, clang—"
Between heaven and earth, a deep and distant bell toll suddenly rang out.
I do not know when it happened, but the crimson blood covering The Old Monk turned into a golden hue.
And the Finger of the Heavens above his head stalled in place, unable to advance even an inch.
That giant finger seemed to be blocked by an invisible, powerful force. Its tip trembled slightly, causing ripples to spread through the surrounding space, yet it could not move forward even a fraction.
The monk, his vision blurred by blood, turned his head with difficulty to look at the First Emperor and Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi, grinning despite his blood-covered face.
In that smile, there was relief, gratification, and complex emotions that were hard to put into words.
The blood on his face crisscrossed, sliding down his cheeks and dripping onto the ground, splashing up tiny lotuses.
Afterward, he made a motion of gnawing on a chicken leg, seemingly as a farewell, or perhaps he was simply craving food.
This gesture left the First Emperor and Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi stunned for a moment, followed by a surge of bitterness in their hearts.
The First Emperor frowned, his eyes filled with admiration and reluctance to let go.
Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi bit his lip tightly, tears shimmering in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Qin Xiaogan, who was suspended in the air, furrowed his brows.
"This old bastard is truly troublesome."
Just as Qin Xiaogan prepared to change his strategy and open the seal of the Gate of the Dead World first.
In the boundless sky, white lotuses suddenly appeared.
The white lotuses were dreamlike and illusory, emitting a soft light that illuminated the entire sky like a fairyland.
The Old Monk slowly closed his eyes and whispered.
"My Buddha is compassionate."
Having said this.
The white lotuses in the sky rapidly rushed toward Qin Xiaogan, like a herd of wild horses breaking free from their reins, aggressive and imposing.
Seeing this, Qin Xiaogan's expression shifted slightly.
Afterward, he waved his right hand toward the surging lotuses, his movement sharp and decisive.
In an instant, an invisible, powerful force surged from his palm, and all the lotuses were crushed under the pressure of this power, their petals turning into powder and scattering in the air.
And just then, a sudden change occurred.
All the lotuses that had been shattered by Qin Xiaogan slowly formed a strange, eerie black hole, pitch-black like ink.
The space around the black hole began to twist, and a bone-chilling whistling sound faintly emerged.
Qin Xiaogan saw this, and his gaze sharpened.
"Trying to ambush me?"
Before he could react.
A powerful suction force emanated from the black hole, like an invisible giant hand, instantly pulling Qin Xiaogan into it.
At the same time, disappearing with him were the giant finger that had blocked the sky and the dying monk.
"..."
Between heaven and earth, a long silence descended.
The wind stopped howling, the clouds ceased their movement, and it was as if time had frozen in that moment.
The First Emperor and Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi stood there for a long time, gazing in the direction where the monk had disappeared, unable to calm their hearts.
After a long silence.
The First Emperor said hoarsely, "This... incorrigible old guy, he is like this every time."
Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi touched his sword and murmured.
"Yes, because he is the one who respects his master the most, and also... the one who wants to kill him the most." A complex emotion revealed itself in Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi's eyes.
"Thud!"
"Thud!"
A sound, like knocking on a door, rang out dully from within the Gate of the Dead World. The sound carried an eerie rhythm, each strike feeling like a heavy hammer hitting one's heart.
The two men frowned, their expressions instantly turning grave, and they quickly turned to look at the Gate of the Dead World.
Within the Gate of the Dead World, a cold, eerie aura that did not belong to this world gradually spilled out like smoke.
The First Emperor's eyes sharpened, but the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he chuckled.
"It seems we will have our hands full in the future."
Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi shrugged nonchalantly, though his eyes revealed determination, and he then drew his sword without hesitation.
The divine sword left its scabbard like a bolt of light cutting through the dark night, its brilliant gleam instantly illuminating the surroundings.
A cold glint flowed across the blade, as if countless stars were flickering within it, and it seemed as if fierce, chilly winds were entwined around it.
Afterward, Sword Cultivator Jianxiuzi, without hesitation, strode into the Gate of the Dead World.
Leaving behind only a light sentence.
But this sentence settled the world for a full hundred years...
"You pacify the disasters of the human realm; I shall guard the boundless hell."