Chapter 775 — Charging Straight into the Celestial Gate of the Nine Heavens

This was what Tubo had undergone in his reincarnation, the memory of the Life-Slaying Cauldron; yet Shen Mu was seeing it now through Tubo's eyes, and feeling it as if it were his own. The Feathered Serpent had bound his wife, had clutched his two children, and held Tubo's softest place, his one fatal handle, gripped fast in its hand.

Many of the demon-gods were elated.

In Youdu, Tubo was invincible — not merely invincible in strength, but invincible in spirit; in Youdu there was no one who could defeat him. But the reincarnated Tubo was no longer invincible.

The reincarnated Tubo was frail in power, and his spirit, too, was riddled with flaws. And the greatest flaw of all was his family!

The reincarnated Tubo was no longer the true Tubo; he was his mother's Achou, his wife's Aniu, an honest, simple, ugly man of the village, and the father of two children besides.

He was not Tubo — nothing more than Achou. "I was reborn as a man.

I told no ancient god, nor did I inform the Celestial Court.

How did you learn of my reincarnation, and how did you learn that I was reborn here? " Achou did not look at the demon-gods; his gaze passed over them and fixed upon the empty sky, and he said in a low voice: "Only the Celestial Court could discover that I had been reborn, and discover where I was reborn.

So then — who is it that covets my power? " There was no stir in the sky. Achou was somewhat disappointed.

"Achou, do you no longer want your wife and children to live?

" the Feathered Serpent demon-god cried.

"Take your own life!

The kind of death that scatters soul and spirit to the four winds!

" Achou gave no answer. He picked up his iron plow and shouldered it. The Feathered Serpent demon-god flew into a fury and was about to cut down his wife and children when suddenly a little paper boat appeared behind Achou; its lamplight fell upon the Feathered Serpent demon-god's face, and without so much as a grunt the creature's soul tumbled down into Youdu.

In the boat stood a youth, a ghost-face mask worn on the back of his head, lifting a storm lantern and casting its light in a circle; one demon-god after another became a vast corpse and toppled like mountains. The youth hung the lantern on the prow and glanced at Achou: "What came this time were small fry.

Next time it will not be small fry that strike. I cannot protect you all your life. Come back soon.

" Achou looked back at his wife, his children, his aged mother, and shook his head: "I have feelings now.

I cannot go back. " The youth tilted his head and thought for a moment, then said: "I am not strong enough yet. Among the demon-gods are many terrifying beings, and I am no match for them.

And there are the ancient gods — if the ancient gods hidden behind it all come forth, I will be beaten.

How much of your power can you use since your reincarnation?

" "This is the world of the living; I cannot use the power of Youdu. " Achou shook his head. "I feel a power hidden in my brow, but the third eye will not open.

" The youth looked at his brow.

There was a vertical scar of blood there, but no third eye to be seen.

He had no choice but to urge the little paper boat to sink into the gloom, and said: "You are no longer Tubo. You are only Achou.

Come back soon. " Achou watched him vanish, and only after a long moment did he show a simple, foolish smile: "I cannot go back.

. . " His wife came over with the children in her arms. He told her he was still Achou, and that the family need not worry.

This place was no longer safe to live in.

Though thick-set, he was deft of hand, and he made a carrying basket lined with soft cotton; his aged mother sat in the basket upon his back.

He set his son and daughter on his shoulders, his wife, heavy with child, sat in the crook of his arm, and the family set out on the road. Achou raced the wind and chased the moon, leaving that place behind, but the road was far from peaceful; they were set upon by no few demon-gods, for demon-gods were growing ever more numerous in this world. People called the demon-gods primeval beasts; demon-gods ate men and slaughtered wherever they went.

Never before had there been so many demon-gods here, and now they had suddenly swarmed forth. Achou led his family, old and young, hiding here and dodging there; yet on this day his old mother's final hour still came. "Achou, I am dying," his aged mother said to him. "Take good care of your woman and your children.

You are so ugly, and your mother never cast you off; do not cast them off. Achou is not Tubo.

Achou is only an ugly child who looks very much like Tubo.

.

.

" With that, she breathed her last. Achou wept with a hoarse, wailing cry, striving with all his might to open the eye in his brow, striving with all his might to summon the power of Youdu.

As Tubo he had been able to bestow blessing and long life upon mighty late-born beings such as the Youdu Heavenly Worthy, letting them endure alongside the world itself; yet now he could not save his own mother. He cut open his brow with a knife, all dripping blood, but he could not find that eye, and he could feel no power of Youdu at all.

He was not Tubo. He still had a wife, still had children, still had ties that bound him to the world.

He buried his old mother and went on his way with his wife and children, fleeing those who hunted them.

At last his wife went into labor, and he had to stop and seek a midwife to deliver the child; but in this world the demon-gods ranged everywhere, devouring humankind, and living folk were hard to find. The human race of the whole world was all but extinct.

He searched for miles upon miles and found not one living soul, and so he found a cave, hid within it, and delivered the child himself.

After a long torment the child was born, a girl, with a pair of little horns on her head like his own, and a pair of tiger fangs from birth; she was very healthy. Achou was overjoyed. He went out to hunt, to nourish his wife's strength.

But when he returned, he saw demon-gods covering the hills and plains like a forest, blocking the cave where his wife and children were.

Several incomparably powerful demon-gods sat on the mountaintop, looking down at him, and beside them were his wife and children. He charged forward in a frenzy, smashing in the skulls of the demon-gods who blocked his way with his iron plow, pounding their chests to pulp with his fists, piercing them through with his ox horns, tearing at them with his teeth. He had gone mad, and he fought with all his strength toward the cliff opposite.

Those demon-gods had vast powers; they beat him black and blue, beat him into a blur of blood and flesh, broke his bones and snapped his sinews, broke his nine-coiled horns — and still Achou fought madly forward, more like a primeval beast than any of them. He killed for he knew not how long, until his strength was spent, but he had struck terror into them all the same.

He leaned against a tree, panting hoarsely, glaring savagely at the peak across the way.

Those few demon-gods still sat there, watching coldly, saying nothing, stirring not at all. Achou rested a moment, then fought on; severed limbs and broken arms lay everywhere around him, mangled demon-god bodies everywhere. His strength was all but inexhaustible, and yet the power of Youdu was still denied him.

"Kneel.

" A voice came from the mountaintop. Achou looked up and saw a demon-god gripping his wife by the neck, holding her at the cliff's edge; one loosening of that hand and she would fall and be smashed to paste. Achou halted and looked up at the peak in supplication.

The demon-god's hand opened; his wife fell from the cliff.

Achou screamed and flung himself forward with all his might, but other demon-gods barred his way and flayed him to ribbons. Thud. The sound of something heavy striking the ground.

"Kneel," said the demon-god on the peak, lifting up his eldest son, his voice flat.