Chapter 231 — Slaying the Monk
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 2 of 4
Boom!
The Half-Fool Monk swung the staff down; it struck Shen Mu, and Shen Mu, both feet planted on the ground, slid helplessly backwards, plowing a deep trench in the earth, the bronze axe in his hand already shattered by the blow.
The Half-Fool Monk strode forward, swift beyond measure, closing the distance in a few bounds; he thrust the staff out before him, another great report, and sent Shen Mu hurtling backwards, unable to keep his footing. The staff hummed and quivered; the nine golden rings clanged against Shen Mu's chest and knocked him a hundred zhang away, flattening swathes of forest. "Sumeru Seal — hah!
" The Half-Fool Monk soared into the air, shouted the mantra, and brought one palm down upon the place where Shen Mu had fallen. The earth shook, the trees toppled, and there appeared a handprint half a mu in size, pressed deep into the ground.
Above that palm print hung the phantom of a Mount Sumeru, and countless sutra runes revolved about the mountain's phantom.
"Amitabha. The demon-path fiend has at last been beheaded and executed, and has accomplished a measure of merit for this poor monk.
" The Half-Fool Monk landed, one hand resting on the Zen staff, the other placed over his heart in salute, and standing outside the handprint he bowed and said: "This poor monk is no lover of killing. That I now employ thunderous means is only to rid the world of a scourge, a thing done against my will.
This poor monk shall recite a Rebirth Sutra for the Cult Master, and send the Cult Master's wronged soul onward to the Pure Land, to do evil no more.
.
. " He was just about to begin the recitation when of a sudden a chill ran through him. He sprang up at once, and the ground split open; golden qi spikes, one after another, burst from the earth and thrust madly up into the sky!
The Half-Fool Monk drove his staff downward; the nine rings swept out in all directions and shattered the golden spikes, and then he saw the phantom of Mount Sumeru collapse, and countless streams of golden qi gather and become numberless flashes of sword-light.
The sword-light gathered into one, ten zhang and more in length, and with a ding it pierced the Half-Fool Monk's chest. The Half-Fool Monk cried out in pain as the sword-light pierced his chest, then suddenly roared; from the prayer beads at his neck came the sound of Buddha-voice, and as it quivered sutra runes gushed from the beads. The scripture texts became rings, layer upon layer of scripture-rings clasping that sword-light, revolving without cease, until at last they held the sword-blow back.
At that very moment, before the Half-Fool Monk, water-light flashed of a sudden: there stood towering waves, and at the head of the billows Shen Mu had become the form of the Water Marquis, Lord Chenxing, man's head and red hair and serpent's body, holding a trident.
The trident thrust at the Half-Fool Monk; the billows rose to the heavens and became a vast palm print rolling down to crush him. The Half-Fool Monk roared, his Buddha-light blazing, and raised a hand to block; then of a sudden he felt a boundless force sweep over him and was sent flying by those waves. And the trident, piercing his chest, became a three-headed dragon that bore his body shrieking forward.
With a great booming crash, the three-headed dragon and the towering waves crushed the monk down against the earth and pressed out a great pit in the ground. The waters dispersed; the Half-Fool Monk scrambled to his feet, and head-on he saw a monster charging at him, an ox's head on a man's body, treading two fire dragons.
The ox-eye in the monster's brow opened, and a blade of firelight, swift as lightning, swept level and flat at him; the Half-Fool Monk raised a hand to shield his throat, his palm was seared with pain, and two of his fingers were cut away. A measure of panic stirred in his heart.