171: Chapter 171 Rift Eruption

When Lu Mingyuan returned from the Heavenly Court, the human world had already changed.

When he left, there was only one Rift, in the Northwest, at the foot of Mount Kunlun. When he returned, there were fifty Rifts, stretching from Kunlun to the East Sea, from Mount Tai to Mount Hua, from Zhongnan to Qingcheng. The sky was like shattered glass, cracks spreading from one end to the other, and from the other end back again. Within each crack, there was something: Devilish Qi, resentment, and the shadowy breath of An.

He stood above the Buzhou Mountain Ruins, looking at The Rifts, at the demon soldiers surging out of them, and at the common people fleeing on the ground. His hands trembled, not from fear, but from rage. That kind of rage that says, "While I was away, the human world became like this."

"Lu Mingyuan!" Bai Ze flew up from below, bandaged and with blood on his wings. "You're finally back."

"How are things?" Lu Mingyuan asked.

"Not good." Bai Ze shook his head. "The Rifts have increased from one to fifty, and the demon soldiers from tens of thousands to millions. The Zhenyi Alliance has lost many people; Fa Ming has attained nirvana, all three hundred warrior monks are dead, Zhang Lingyun is old and barely hanging on, Yue Wushuang's injuries haven't healed, and Li Haoran lost an arm. We can't hold them back any longer."

Lu Mingyuan closed his eyes. He remembered Fa Ming, remembering how Fa Ming taught him the unity of Zen and martial arts at Shaoshi Mountain, enlightening him that "snow merely falls." He remembered Fa Ming leading the warrior monks to charge the lines in front of The Rift, his Zen staff sweeping, the Buddha's light shining everywhere. He remembered when Fa Ming attained nirvana, his golden body shattering into dust, transforming into a ray of light. That light was still there, still in his heart, still in his Wanxiang Heaven and Earth, and still on that small tree.

"Fa Ming is gone, but we still have to defend," Lu Mingyuan said. "Take me to them."

---

Buzhou Mountain Ruins, Zhenyi Alliance main tent.

Zhang Lingyun sat at the desk, drawing talismans. His hand trembled, but his brush did not. His hair was completely white, his face full of wrinkles, and his body was as thin as a skeleton. That Heavenly Net had consumed too many lives; his own life was nearly spent.

"Zhang Lingyun." Lu Mingyuan walked in, looking at this once spirited Genius of Longhu Mountain, at this Talisman Master who was now on the verge of death. His eyes reddened.

"You're back?" Zhang Lingyun looked up and smiled. The smile was faint, but there was something in its lightness, a sense of relief that said, "It's good that you're back." "How is the Heavenly Court?"

"We held it," Lu Mingyuan said. "But many also died. Giant Spirit God died, the Eighteen Arhats attained nirvana, Guanyin attained nirvana, and even the Tathagata attained nirvana."

Zhang Lingyun was stunned. "Even the Tathagata..."

"Attained nirvana. He enlightened millions of demon soldiers, and in doing so, shattered himself."

Silence fell in the tent. If even the Tathagata couldn't hold out, could the human world? If even the Buddha shattered, could humans still stand?

"But Spirit Mountain is still there," Lu Mingyuan said. "Manjushri is still there, Sun Wukong is still there, and those who are willing to stand are still there. Spirit Mountain held, the Heavenly Court held, and the human world can also hold."

"How do we hold?" Yue Wushuang walked in, bandaged, her qingni sword hanging at her waist. Her injuries hadn't healed, but she was already standing. "Fifty Rifts, millions of demon soldiers, and we only have a few hundred people. Tell me, how do we hold?"

Lu Mingyuan looked at her, at this Sword Cultivator who once possessed Sword Heart Clarity, at this person now covered in wounds and tears, yet still standing. He smiled.

"If we can't hold, then we don't hold."

"What do you mean?"

"We don't defend head-on. Defending head-on is a dead end. We'll fight a guerrilla war. When the enemy advances, we retreat; when the enemy retreats, we advance. We don't fight big battles, only small ones. We don't contend for a momentary victory, but for the final win."

Yue Wushuang was stunned. "Guerrilla warfare? You mean, no head-on confrontations?"

"Right. No head-on clashes. We can't win by clashing head-on. But we can delay, we can wear them down, we can exhaust them. No matter how many demon soldiers there are, they need supplies. No matter how big The Rifts are, they need Devilish Qi. We cut off their supplies, block their Rifts, and grind down their morale. We drag it out until they can't endure, until we find a way to complete the repair."

Silence fell in the tent. Zhang Lingyun looked at Lu Mingyuan, at this young man who had returned from the Heavenly Court, at this person whose eyes still held light. He thought for a long time, then nodded.

"Alright. We'll fight a guerrilla war."

---

By The Rift, Lu Mingyuan stood.

He looked at The Rift, at the Devilish Qi surging from it, at the beings struggling within the Devilish Qi. His Wanxiang Heaven and Earth was unfolding, his Xuan-shu Path was extending, his small tree was growing. That small tree was already three inches tall, growing in darkness, growing in resentment, growing in despair.

"Come out," Lu Mingyuan said.

From The Rift, a Grand Unity Demon General emerged. His body was enveloped in Devilish Qi, so thick it was like ink, so black it was like night, so heavy it was like a mountain. There was something in his eyes, a killing intent that said, "I will kill you."

"Are you Lu Mingyuan?"

"I am."

"An Heavenly Emperor told me—resistance is useless, completion is the Righteous Path. But I don't believe it. I don't believe your completion can complete me. I am Grand Unity Middle Stage, you are merely Great Luo Late Stage. Killing you is as easy as turning over my hand."

"Then come."

The Demon General charged, his demon blade slashing towards Lu Mingyuan's head. That blade was fast, too fast to see. That blade was heavy, so heavy the air burned. That blade was ruthless, intending to kill with a single strike.

Lu Mingyuan didn't dodge. He extended his hand, his palm catching the blade. Not with his hand, but with his Dao. His palm contained Wanxiang True Qi, the principles of Xuan-shu Path, and the aspiration to Mending the Heavens. These elements coalesced into a shield. That shield was thin, as thin as paper. But that shield was resilient, as tough as silk.

The demon blade stopped before Lu Mingyuan's palm, unable to advance even an inch.

"Impossible!" The Demon General was stunned. "You're Great Luo Late Stage, how can you block my blade?"

"Strength is not measured by cultivation," Lu Mingyuan said. "It is measured by Dao."

He pushed with his palm, and the Demon General retreated three steps. Wanxiang True Qi surged from his palm, flowing into the Demon General's body. Within that True Qi was the Noble Spirit of Confucianism, the tranquility of Daoism, the compassionate wisdom of Buddhism, and the resolute courage of a Martial Artist. These elements poured into the Demon General's Devilish Qi, not to oppose it, but to transform it. Not to destroy, but to enlighten.

The Demon General felt his body changing. The Devilish Qi was dissipating, the resentment dissolving. He was afraid, not of death, but of that change. That change from incompleteness to wholeness, from darkness to light, from hatred to love.

"Don't... don't..."

"Don't be afraid," Lu Mingyuan said. "I'm not killing you, I'm completing you. I'm not destroying you, I'm enlightening you."

In the Demon General's eyes, the black Devilish Qi receded, revealing a pair of ordinary eyes. In those eyes, there was no hatred, no resentment, no killing intent. Only one thing remained—relief.

"Thank you," the Demon General said. His voice was soft, as light as the wind. Then he dissolved. Not into smoke, but into light. That light was faint, as weak as a firefly. But that light did not extinguish. That light flew up, into the sky, into the darkness, becoming a star.

Lu Mingyuan looked at that star and smiled. He turned around, walked back to Mount Buzhou, back to the Zhenyi Alliance main tent, back to the people who stood with him.

---

"You killed a Demon General?" Zhang Lingyun asked.

"Not killed, but enlightened," Lu Mingyuan said. "Enlightened a Grand Unity Middle Stage Demon General."

"Enlightened?" Yue Wushuang was stunned. "Even demons can be enlightened?"

"Yes. Demons are not born demons. They are incomplete. They are projections of the Heavenly Dao's deficiencies, a collection of resentment from countless kalpas. They are not evil, but sick. Not enemies to be destroyed, but patients to be cured. Enlighten one, and another star appears in the sky. The more you enlighten, the more stars there will be in the sky. One day, the stars in the sky will outnumber the darkness."

Silence fell in the tent. Zhang Lingyun looked at Lu Mingyuan, at this young man who had returned from the Heavenly Court, at this person whose eyes still held light. He thought for a long time, then smiled.

"Good. Then I'll draw more talismans to help you enlighten."

"I'll also unleash more sword strikes," Yue Wushuang said.

"And I'll read more books," Li Haoran said.

Lu Mingyuan looked at them, at these people who were willing to stand, at these people who were willing to believe him. There was light in his eyes, a faint light, as weak as a firefly. But that light would not extinguish; no matter how strong the wind, how deep the darkness, how heavy the despair, it would not extinguish.

That light was called hope.

---

Buzhou Mountain Ruins, night.

Lu Mingyuan stood alone on the mountaintop, looking at the stars in the sky. There were a few more stars than yesterday, but still very few, only a few dozen. But they were there, shining in the darkness, twinkling in despair, living in the Dharma Ending Age.

"What are you looking at?" Bai Ze flew up and landed on his shoulder.

"Looking at the stars."

"What's so good about stars?"

"They're beautiful. They shine in the darkness, how beautiful."

Bai Ze looked at the stars, silent for a moment. "Do you know? Those stars are the Souls that have been completed. Shi Xin is one of them, as are the Buddha-Devouring Demons enlightened by Guanyin, and the demon soldiers enlightened by the Tathagata, and the Demon General you enlightened today. You enlighten one, and another star appears in the sky. One day, the stars in the sky will outnumber the darkness. At that time, the Dharma Ending Age will be over."

Lu Mingyuan looked at those stars and smiled. "Good. Then I'll enlighten more. Until the day the stars outnumber the darkness."

He stood there, on the summit of Mount Buzhou, between darkness and light, standing. In his heart, that small tree was still growing. Three inches, four inches, five inches. Very slowly, as slowly as a snail crawling. But it was growing, growing in the darkness, growing in resentment, growing in despair. If it was growing, it would eventually grow large. Once it grew large, it could enlighten more.

But he was also thinking about a question—why, when one demon soldier was killed, ten more were born in The Rift? Why did the Devilish Qi grow heavier with more killing? Why did An grow stronger with more resistance? He remembered An Heavenly Emperor's words—"Resistance is useless, completion is the Righteous Path." But could completion truly complete An? He remembered the Demon General he enlightened today, remembered the light he transformed into, remembered the new star in the sky. He completed one, and one more star appeared in the sky. But The Rift was still there, the Devilish Qi was still there, An was still there. He completed one, and An produced ten more. Could it ever be completed?

He didn't know. But he knew he had to keep going. Until the day it was completed.