Chapter 320 — A Family Matter
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Shen Mu frowned deeply. Ban Gongcuo, wary of the sorcerous poison Shen Mu had brewed with his own hands, dared not attack and could only withdraw; but the soul-sacrifice sorcery he had unleashed to vent his fury was truly terrifying!
Ban Gongcuo was still only at the Six Harmonies realm, yet even masters of the Seven Stars realm died at a single bow from him — and these three demon monks had been no common figures, strange beasts who had cultivated to no small success. The Golden-Winged Roc was a breed of high renown even in the Wasteland, immensely powerful, with a formidable body; and having cultivated the Buddhist dharma of the Little Thunderclap Temple, their primordial spirits were firm.
He had bowed three Golden-Winged Rocs to death in succession; this divine ability was indeed one that even Zaifu must guard against with all care! In former days Ban Gongcuo had carried himself with a certain magnanimity, every inch the grandmaster; but now, thwarted again and again at Shen Mu's hands, he had grown vicious with humiliation, and struck without the slightest scruple.
This time he had bowed to death three demon monks of the Little Thunderclap Temple; next time, he would likely turn his hand against those close to Shen Mu.
Who could withstand a single bow from him? "But from the look of Ban Gongcuo after bowing those three to death, he seems to have taken grave injury himself.
Clearly this divine ability exacts a heavy backlash and cannot be used at will.
" Shen Mu's brow did not smooth.
However great the backlash, a divine ability that killed whomever it was aimed at was truly hard to counter — impossible to guard against. "Let us bury these three monks.
We cannot leave their bodies exposed in the wild. " The several of them buried the bodies of the three Golden-Winged Rocs.
Shen Mu bowed once and sighed, "Farewell, you three.
One day I shall burn a Ban Gongcuo in offering to your memory. Let us go.
. .
wait!
" The Dragon Qilin halted in haste. Shen Mu closed his eyes; after a moment he opened them, took out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, roused his vital essence, and spread the paper out neatly in midair.
He lifted the brush, stirred the ink, and painted in the empty air; before long the image of a god-devil standing upon an altar took shape beneath his brush.
Shen Mu was about to lay down the final stroke, but stopped, took out his seal and stamped it upon the painting, and only then completed the last stroke. "The key to Ban Gongcuo's soul-sacrifice sorcery must lie in this god-devil. " He looked it over from top to bottom, confirming he had made no error. Kui Sou had taught him calligraphy and painting, and in painting he laid great stress on seizing form, intent, and spirit in a single instant; Shen Mu had often gone out of the village with him to sketch from life, drawing all manner of things.
Though the god-devil behind Ban Gongcuo had appeared only briefly, he had still caught its exact shape and spirit and painted it true. "I do not know this god-devil, but the Wasteland holds statues of every kind of god and devil; the village headman and Master Huo are men of wide experience and will most likely recognize it. Since we have come into the Wasteland, we may as well go back to the village and ask them. And even if they do not know it, there is still the Heaven Sacred Cult and the Jingping Kingdom — someone somewhere will recognize it!
" Shen Mu put the painting away and thought, "If only I can identify this god-devil, there will be a chance of breaking Ban Gongcuo's sorcery! Otherwise the only road left is to destroy him at any cost.
" At any cost — which meant taking the Golden Palace of Loulan; and to take a holy ground like the Golden Palace of Loulan, one would first have to conquer the steppe and annihilate the nations upon it. One could well imagine how difficult that would be.