Impossible!

This was the first thought that emerged in Yang Jin’s mind after hearing Jian Chou’s words. Because the legend of the deity and the Sacred Lake could be heard anywhere in the Snowy Realm, and no matter how one thought about it, it was just one of countless beautiful stories fabricated by people.

She had heard it since childhood but never believed it.

However, at this moment, on the face of this powerful female cultivator from Yashan before her, there wasn’t the slightest hint of jest. Those clear and lofty eyes, though revealing some indescribable strangeness, were filled with serious solemnity.

So an absurd thought actually arose in Yang Jin’s heart.

What she said seemed to be all true. Perhaps this cultivator from the Central Territory had already seen their Snowy Realm’s deity; perhaps she truly had a way to make the deity of the Sacred Lake manifest…

“If you can truly make the deity manifest, the deity will naturally inform us of the Holy Son’s whereabouts and point us in the right direction.” Yang Jin looked at her, her voice trembling slightly due to the faint hope that had suddenly arisen. “What the Holy Son represents is the Sacred Buddha. The countless people of the Snowy Realm believe in him. As long as the Holy Son appears, all the people inside and outside the Mandala will be awakened, and their faith and incense will be transferred to the Holy Son. In this Snowy Realm, no one can be above the Holy Son. Not even Dharma King Baoyin who wields the Houtu Seal.”

Understood.

Holy Son Jiye was where the countless believers of the Snowy Realm should place their faith, and he was far above all Dharma Kings. The Sacred Temple was established because of him, the Sacred Mountain rose because of him.

As long as he was present, no one could usurp faith by going around him!

Jian Chou only remembered that time behind the Sacred Temple, by the Sacred Lake, when that youth had casually handed her a bunch of snow lotus flowers, called out “Qiaguo Suba,” and recognized her as a friend.

And that message from the Tantric sect diagram in the Extreme Realm back then…

“Eighty-one years later, you will become my close friend and complete my nirvana.”

In the darkness, all the details collided together with perfect precision.

In the Extreme Realm, the sect diagram had advance notice of the prophecy from Holy Son Jiye, the dying wish left by the old woman who had once been a Buddha Mother regarding the blue kingfisher, the conflict that erupted in the Snowy Realm years later and her own infiltration into the Snowy Realm, then meeting the young Holy Son Jiye, the vision she saw at the Sacred Lake after picking a bunch of blue kingfishers…

All the way to this moment.

Jian Chou almost couldn’t believe that everything she was experiencing now seemed to be within the calculations of that Holy Son Jiye, with no unexpected elements whatsoever.

But she felt no resistance or resentment.

Because from beginning to end, she had not discovered any malicious conspiracy in this matter. On the contrary, what she felt was only a kind of pure goodwill.

“Holy Son Jiye…”

Overlooking the endless, tide-like believers of the Snowy Realm below, Jian Chou’s feelings were extremely complex, and she couldn’t help but murmur his name.

Master Xuelang and the others, like Yang Jin, had never expected that she would just say she had a way to handle this. Qu Zhengfeng was fine – mature and steady, he didn’t show any expression. But Little Wise Monk Liao Kong had already widened his eyes, hardly daring to believe his own ears.

Yang Jin’s gaze never left her.

At this moment, she couldn’t spare time to ask when she had seen the deity or why she knew, only earnestly pressing: “Friend Jian Chou, are you truly certain you know?”

“No, I dare not be certain.” Jian Chou laughed once, not afraid of frightening Yang Jin, and actually shook her head directly. However, before Yang Jin’s expression could change, she added another sentence: “But having seen it before is true, if the ‘deity’ you speak of is the same as the ‘deity’ I’m thinking of. Moreover, treating a dead horse as if it were alive – having a method is better than having no method.”

That… that seemed to make sense, but why did it feel like something was wrong? Liao Kong blinked, thought for a long time, but couldn’t figure out what was amiss.

But Jian Chou didn’t explain further.

She looked at the other several people and said: “Given the current situation, if we want to act, we’ll probably need to plan extensively. Master, Your Majesty the Sword Emperor, Senior Yang Jin, how about we find a somewhat safer place to make plans first, then act?”

Master Xuelang, Qu Zhengfeng, and Yang Jin naturally had no objections.

But when it was time to leave, Liao Kong looked at those people below who were devoutly chanting and showed an expression of unbearable compassion, hesitating and wanting to say something.

Jian Chou glanced at him and said lightly: “They cannot be saved.”

The moment these words left her mouth, she herself was stunned for a moment, obviously remembering the person who had once said such a sentence.

Master Xuelang looked at her calmly.

But she had already turned to descend down the other side of the cliff: “At least they cannot be saved now.”

The dawn of a new day was approaching again.

But no matter how brilliant the skylight bursting forth from the earth, it could not attract even a glance from the believers inside and outside the Mandala. Their gaunt faces no longer had any spirit, yet their eyes still held fanatical devotion. Golden light after golden light extracted what little strength they had left, all converging into that enormous array in the firmament.

On the Sacred Mountain, the Sacred Temple stood tall, silent and speechless.

Red-robed monks stood watching on the snow-white ridges of the Sacred Mountain, with some walking on the mountain paths, their gazes constantly fixed on the area below.

At an even higher location, a huge deep pit had been dug out.

At the bottom of the pit, people were piled upon people, stacked upon each other. Wailing cries had already merged into one continuous sound, but in the magnificent and overwhelming chanting from the mountain below, they seemed so insignificant that they could barely be heard.

Some people had heads covered in fresh blood and had long since fallen unconscious; some still had their eyes open, but their pupils were already scattered and dim, numb and calm; others had broken arms and legs, crawling on top of others, desperately trying to climb out of this enormous deep pit. But the moment they reached the edge, they were kicked back down by the monks guarding the pit, falling back into the pile of people below…

Pleading voices, crying voices, praying voices…

Young ones, old ones, even three-to-five-year-old children who didn’t understand worldly affairs – all were here, like a hellish purgatory underground.

The bright light of heaven and earth shone down from above, yet could not dispel their terror. Among countless people, only one white-haired elder nearing the end of his life blinked in fear, looked up and saw the slanted light falling into the deep pit, and tears immediately welled up in his eyes.

His withered lips trembled, calling out in a hoarse voice:

“Holy Son, Holy Son, we take refuge in you, take refuge in Buddha, save us, save us!”

But such a faint voice couldn’t even be heard by those closest to him, and was soon drowned in the torrent of despair, leaving no trace to be found…

The steps rose high, level upon level, leading to the Sacred Temple.

The morning sunlight passed through the high-suspended array in the firmament and became a sinister and eerie red color, falling at the entrance of the Sacred Hall in the very center of the Sacred Temple. But it could only shine in three feet before being unable to advance even half an inch further.

Inside the hall was a gloomy darkness as substantial as reality.

Dark golden talisman water outlined ancient and weathered symbols on the ground, one after another, forming circles that surrounded the enormous Buddha statue in the very center, overlapping layer upon layer. Red-robed masters sat cross-legged around the perimeter, attempting to provide enhancement.

Thus all the talisman water flowed turbulently like small rivers.

In the entire dark great hall, supreme Sanskrit chanting actually resonated, interweaving with the magnificent recitation from the Mandala at the foot of the Sacred Mountain, making it impossible to distinguish one from the other.

Dharma King Baoyin, draped in deep red ceremonial robes, sat cross-legged in the center of the array, before the Buddha statue. The golden Sanskrit text painted with special materials on his robes leaped and flowed along with the dark golden talisman water in the array, giving people an indescribable sense of solemn majesty.

His middle-aged face had deeply sunken cheeks and prominently protruding temples, with downcast eyes.

In past days, in the eyes of countless believers in the Snowy Realm, this face was undoubtedly the same as Buddha’s face. However, at this moment, strange wisps of black energy emerged from the array around him, crawling up his limbs that were pressed against the ground, climbing up his neck, all the way to his face, like ferocious centipedes converging at the position of his brow.

The black energy gathered more and more, and its form became increasingly vicious.

As if enduring some kind of torment, Dharma King Baoyin’s face had already revealed some unbearable suffering.

Yet he gritted his teeth and endured it.

No one could refuse.

No one wanted to refuse.

This was an opportunity granted to him by the true deity of the universe, allowing him to truly escape this painful shell and completely become the incarnation of heaven and earth, the incarnation of supreme principle!

Since entering Buddhism over a thousand years ago, having even experienced that most glorious and brilliant era at the transition between ancient and present times, he had watched helplessly as that mediocrity Baji ascended, watched that demon woman Luye ascend, and even that originally insignificant Buyu had also ascended.

But he had not.

For hundreds of years, always trapped in the bounded realm; for hundreds of years, never advancing an inch; after hundreds of years had passed, he was still the Dharma King Baoyin of the Tantric sect, unable to touch that illusory gate to the Upper Void Immortal Realm!

How could he be reconciled?

How could he accept fate?

If the Heavenly Dao was unjust, if the rules were unjust, then the original master of this universe should retake control of everything, eliminate this blind Heavenly Dao, eliminate these ignorant people, eliminate all existences that dared to obstruct him!

Whether they were people, or the Heavenly Dao, or even this lofty Buddha Lord who watched him but never showed mercy to him!

Hundreds and thousands of wisps of black energy crawled out from the ground close to the array, like emerging from the darkest recesses of the human heart, gathering bit by bit at his brow, their shape becoming increasingly clear.

It was actually a strange black eye!

Without radiance, without expression, seemingly a dead thing without any vitality, yet also seemingly connected to another void space that no one could peer into, vast and boundless. The master of this black eye was in this space, peering through Dharma King Baoyin’s brow at this absurd world…

The sun rose higher and higher, yet could never illuminate this deep darkness of the Sacred Temple. The cold skylight could not melt the eternal ice and snow on this plateau, only adding a strange pallor to this silent yet clamorous Snowy Realm.

At the foot of the mountain beside the Sacred Mountain, Yang Jin handed a conch shell to Jian Chou: “I’m sure you’ve already guessed that this object is a sacred artifact commonly used in the Sacred Temple and closely related to the Tantric sect. It cannot be detected who possesses this object through exclusion methods, so as long as Friend Jian Chou carries this object when infiltrating, you won’t be detected by the Sacred Temple’s protective arrays.”

Jian Chou reached out to receive it and tested it.

This conch shell turned out to be ownerless and could not be bound by blood. One only needed to inject spiritual power to activate it, automatically emitting a circle of soft light.

With a thought, the light suddenly disappeared, leaving only the aura belonging to the conch shell floating in the void.

Earlier, Yang Jin had used this object to shelter them as they advanced, emitting light to let them clearly know the range covered by the conch shell’s radiance. In fact, when using it, one only needed to emit sufficient aura. Having magical light would actually be a hindrance.

At this moment, they were in a dense forest at the foot of the mountain. It was cold here and rarely visited by people. They could see neither a single believer nor any monk, and couldn’t even see snakes, insects, rats, or ants.

A whole day had passed, and their plan had been discussed.

Finding the Holy Son was the key to victory in this battle, but if unsuccessful, they still had to find a way to destroy that terrifying array in the Mandala, and the key to destruction lay within the Sacred Temple.

Based on Jian Chou’s understanding of arrays, every array should have an array core. One could imagine that the New Tantra people wouldn’t be so foolish as to place the array core in the Mandala where anyone could enter, so it must be set on the Sacred Mountain. Looking at the array’s layout, it should be positioned at the Sacred Hall in the center of the Sacred Temple.

Its purpose was mainly twofold.

First was sacrifice – mainly offering the gathered power to a certain existence, though they didn’t yet know which existence it was. Second was opening – according to Yang Jin, the Sacred Hall had previously been the place where Tantric monks were sent to the Extreme Realm for reincarnation trials, gaining insight and power through reincarnation. Setting the array core in the Sacred Hall definitely meant borrowing sacrificial power to open the gate between Yin and Yang realms.

Whether the New Tantra had set up this array for sacrifice or for opening, neither was good news for them.

They had to fight, and immediately.

Any later, heaven knew what would happen.

So after finishing their discussion, everyone had already built a teleportation array at the fastest speed in a hidden location, carefully scouted the situation around the Sacred Mountain, confirmed there were no additional abnormalities, and then reconvened here.

The plan they finally settled on was simple if you called it simple, terrifying if you called it terrifying.

Since Jian Chou knew how to make the deity in the Sacred Lake manifest, she should naturally be the one to infiltrate the Sacred Temple again, go to the Sacred Lake to awaken the deity, then seek the Holy Son’s whereabouts.

Once the Holy Son appeared, they could seize the power of the New Tantra’s Sacred Sacrifice.

Because those who were devoutly chanting originally didn’t know what existence they were chanting for, and their power was also masterless power without direction. But the Holy Son, as a Hundred-Life Buddha Child, had been immortal in the Snowy Realm’s legends for thousands of years. Almost everyone had his shadow deep in their hearts. As long as he could appear before everyone’s eyes, the power of faith and incense would immediately shift due to their inner devotion.

At that time, with such magnificent power, even Dharma King Baoyin wielding the Houtu Seal would be impossible to control. Eliminating the New Tantra would naturally be as easy as turning one’s palm.

“But just in case, we should also leave two backup preparations.” Qu Zhengfeng sat facing everyone, glanced at Jian Chou who was playing with the conch shell, and said: “Going in alone is a great taboo. If things go smoothly and we summon that mysterious Holy Son, naturally that’s good. But what if it doesn’t work?”

“If it doesn’t work, I’ll naturally retreat.”

Although she felt in her heart that this matter couldn’t possibly fail, simply because more than eighty years ago, someone had already prophesied to her what would happen today. But such things naturally couldn’t be spoken of, and no one knew what variables might arise, so she only smiled at the people whose expressions were grave.

“This concerns survival, and every move must be done carefully. Once I see the Holy Son, I’ll inform everyone with a message pearl. Opening the teleportation array also takes time, and someone must definitely stay here to watch over it just in case, so I’ll trouble Master Xuelang and His Majesty the Sword Emperor. As for inside the Sacred Temple…”

When she reached this point, her expression suddenly became somewhat strange, her gaze falling on Yang Jin, then on Liao Kong.

In this instant, Liao Kong inexplicably felt a chill down his back.

“Jian… Sister Jian Chou, why are you suddenly looking at this monk like that?”

“I just thought of another diversionary tactic.” Jian Chou smiled mischievously, showing no sign of the grave pressure before a great battle. “His Majesty the Sword Emperor was quite right just now. Me going alone into the Sacred Temple is indeed somewhat dangerous. If discovered, the consequences would be unthinkable. But if someone else attracts the New Tantra’s attention elsewhere, or even acts simultaneously with me to sabotage their array in the Sacred Temple, it should be much safer.”

“Ah?”

Liao Kong never considered himself a smart brain. After hearing Jian Chou’s explanation, he hadn’t turned the corner at all. He blinked, somewhat dazed, and only reacted after a long while.

“Sister, you… you don’t want this monk to go!”

“Right, it’s you.”

A rare mischievous smile appeared on Jian Chou’s delicate face, showing an unusual brightness under this gloomy sky.

“You and Senior Yang Jin will split into two groups, sneaking up the left and right sides of the Sacred Mountain respectively. You can start acting once you reach the Sacred Hall where the array core is located. It doesn’t matter if you can’t understand arrays – you can always kill people, right?”

“Kill… kill people, this monk doesn’t know how…”

When Liao Kong heard the word “kill,” his face paled several shades and he shook his head repeatedly.

Jian Chou was immediately speechless and changed her words: “Then you can always fight people, right?”

“This I can do.” But Liao Kong thought again and returned to the previous problem: “But Sister Jian Chou, this monk’s cultivation is meager…”

“No problem, you going is perfect.”

Jian Chou wasn’t worried at all. Seeing Liao Kong’s nervous and restless appearance, she couldn’t help laughing.

Master Xuelang also smiled along.

Only Yang Jin and Qu Zhengfeng, who after all had no contact with Liao Kong in the past and knew nothing about Liao Kong’s power, felt somewhat puzzled and confused.

But neither Jian Chou nor Master Xuelang meant to explain.

The setting sun on the horizon soon sank into the west. At midnight on the third day after leaving Mingri Xinghai, they finally began their most substantial action.

Jian Chou went to the Sacred Lake to search for the Holy Son;

Master Xuelang and Qu Zhengfeng remained in place, waiting for messages to open the teleportation, while also being the true backup for this battle;

Yang Jin and Liao Kong would infiltrate to assist, dispersing the pressure on Jian Chou.

The five people each had their responsibilities, crystal clear.

When wearing the conch shell and once again quietly stepping onto the Sacred Mountain, Jian Chou thought she would be very nervous, because she was about to face a battle of unknown life and death, and she didn’t have absolute confidence in victory. But in fact, at this moment her heart was surprisingly calm.

Blue kingfishers bloomed in the night, like birds spreading their wings ready to take flight.

She bent down and picked a bunch. She wasn’t going to throw herself into a fierce battle that would inevitably ignite all of Jiushijiu Zhou, but to keep an appointment made years ago, to meet a “close friend” who had made her curious for eighty-one years yet remained always a stranger.