Chapter 481 — The Shaman God Strikes at the Soul
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 3 of 4
The nine-headed peacock, its savage might radiating outward, seized Little Tathagata's flesh in its beak and swallowed it down head-first. Its other eight heads cried, "Tathagata, if you want to satisfy my craving for taste, how can a single piece of meat do? My other eight mouths haven't eaten yet—we're still hungry!"
Little Tathagata cut eight more pieces of flesh from his own body and threw them over. The nine-headed peacock's other eight heads each caught a piece and swallowed them down.
The Demon Ape looked delighted and murmured, "Little, meat, guest."
Little Tathagata glared at him. The Demon Ape scratched his head.
Though the nine-headed peacock had eaten nine pieces of flesh, it could not digest them. It coughed again and again, and after a moment, spat out a small peacock, then another small peacock.
The nine-headed peacock spat nine times, disgorging nine peacocks from its belly. These nine little peacocks ran about the ground every which way, stumbling and tottering; then, all at once, the nine little peacocks merged one after another into a single nine-headed peacock, which plopped down on its rump, the feathers on its rear spreading open like a great fan of many colors.
When the nine-headed peacock saw the little peacock on the ground, its heart was profoundly shaken. At once its demonic nature dispersed, and with a shake of its body it transformed back into a bird-headed, human-bodied monk. He sat cross-legged, his face bearing the light of Buddha, and smiled. "Only now do I know that all living beings are as I am. Brother Tathagata, thank you."
"Excellent."
Little Tathagata closed his monk's robe and said, "Junior Brother Ming, sitting in dry meditation on the mountain is of no benefit to cultivation. Take your son down the mountain and cultivate in the world for a time."
The nine-headed peacock rose and, taking the little peacock with it, descended the mountain.
Shen Mu watched the father and son descend the mountain, shook his head, and wore a look of confusion.
Little Tathagata cut his flesh, the nine-headed peacock ate the flesh—why did it then spit out a tiny nine-headed peacock? And why was this tiny nine-headed peacock the son of the nine-headed peacock?
Was it a technique of creation?
Or was there some other spell or divine ability at work?
Xu Shenghua and Jing Yan were equally at a loss. Xu Shenghua said in a low voice, "The cultivation methods of the Little Thunderclap Temple already differ from those of the Great Thunderclap Temple—most likely they've absorbed certain wondrous techniques from the Wasteland."
Shen Mu nodded. The Great Thunderclap Temple had no such bizarre and outlandish spells; and most of the monks of the Little Thunderclap Temple were strange beasts of the Wasteland that had become spirits, endowed by nature with extraordinary abilities.
Some formidable strange beasts had even had fortuitous encounters in the Wasteland, cultivating certain wondrous techniques of the Wasteland. When they joined the Little Thunderclap Temple, they brought these wondrous techniques with them, which made the cultivation methods of the Little Thunderclap Temple more varied and bizarre than those of the Great Thunderclap Temple.
"Please be seated, all three of you, and watch us deliver this demon god and attain the fruit of the Way."
Atop the golden peak, Little Tathagata invited the three to sit. The yellow-robed monks all around took their seats. Little Tathagata took out a golden alms bowl and gave it a gentle shake; the bowl grew larger and larger, and within it was an altar. On the altar a demon god's primordial spirit was trapped, roaring and struggling, rattling the chains of Buddha-light with a ringing clang.
The demon god on the altar was boundless in blood-color, as if standing in a blood-red ocean, with countless wronged souls coiling around him.