Chapter 214 — The Secret of the Ancient Shamanic Codex
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
"Could it be that this Banggongcuo has improved the Shaman Sovereign's Louluo Sutra?
" The Duke of Wei was somewhat baffled, and murmured: "I have crossed hands with masters of the Loulan Golden Palace. Their arts temper the body through the soul; they forge their flesh till it gleams gold, yet their techniques take the soul as their chief weapon. But this young barbarian walks the road of the flesh, and his arts differ somewhat from the Shaman Sovereign's Louluo Sutra—a shade too ferocious. .
. " After all, he was a first-rank grandee, an existence at the level of a cult master, and he saw at once what was uncommon in Shen Mu. Yet even with his vast experience, all he could perceive was that Shen Mu's Shaman Sovereign's Louluo Sutra only seemed to be what it was; he could not tell that what Shen Mu wielded was the Art of Creation.
The seven chapters of Creation in the Great Nurturing Dark Demon Sutra each had its own excellences, and the Art of Creation excelled above all at imitating the arts of others; Granny Zhu had once employed it, mimicking the very likeness of Fu Yundi, City Lord of Jianglong, so that the false passed for the true. Shen Mu killed Monk Yuanjing with a single palm, and in an instant the monks of the Nantuo Annex were afire with righteous fury. Another monk stepped forth and cried aloud: "You take the teaching-treasure of my Nantuo Temple and use it to slay the men of my Nantuo Temple—do you truly think there is no one left in Nantuo Temple?
I, Yuanshan, will test you—" Shen Mu reached out and seized; with a crack a thunder-roll burst forth, and before Monk Yuanshan had finished his sentence he toppled stiffly to the ground, his corpse lifelike, without the slightest wound, his heart still beating. Several monks rushed forward in alarm and felt for Yuanshan's breath. He still breathed, but his eyes were already shut.
"Feel no more. His soul has scattered.
" Shen Mu said: "This humble one seized his soul and snuffed it out. " "Was this not to be a contest?
" The monks laughed in their rage and shouted: "Why do you strike deadly blows again and again?
" Shen Mu said calmly: "Such is the rule beyond the frontier.
Once a hand is raised, life and death are no longer spoken of.
I had thought the men of the Supreme State of Jingping still had blood in them; it seems you have been pampered so long that you have come to fear death.
It appears I came to the wrong place. This Thousand-Banner Pagoda had best remain in my Loulan Golden Palace—you are not the ones destined for it. " "Insolence! " A monk roared, and suddenly whirling his Zen staff he charged forward.
The staff was nine-ringed and hung with nine treasures; he shook it once, and it chimed and clanged, unsettling the soul.
Shen Mu did not stir his body, letting the staff smash down upon the crown of his head; only then did he reach out and seize it, and with a fierce tug the monk's palms streamed with blood, the skin ground through. Pfft.
Shen Mu hurled the staff, piercing him through the heart and nailing him to the ground, breathless. The Duke of Wei shook his head: "The monks of Nantuo Temple are all wine-and-meat monks.
Pampered these many years, they are far too far beneath him; at the same realm not one of them could possibly be his match.
The sorcery of the Loulan Golden Palace is wicked and uncanny; to extinguish a man's soul—that too is possible.
Only something is not right. These moves of his I have never seen. Can it be that the Shaman Sovereign has created some new divine power? " Wei Yong still had not found Shen Mu, and thought: "He told me to come and watch a commotion—where has he hidden himself? " Several more middle-aged monks walked out from the Nantuo Annex, their faces grave; one of them said in a low, heavy voice: "Someone go to the Court of Judicial Review and report to the authorities—have the officials seize him!
Another, go to the Crown Prince's Annex and beg the Abbot to come!