Chapter 484 — The Twenty Heavens of the Buddhist Gate
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
Xing An carried the box on his back as always, still wearing the guise of a youth in white, as youthful and sunlit as the Xing An Shen Mu had once met in the fruit grove of the Heavenly Sage Academy. And yet the Xing An of today and the Xing An of then bore not the slightest resemblance to each other—they might have been two different men. Shen Mu's heart gave a lurch. If there was anyone left in this world he feared, it was the Imperial Preceptor Jingping and Xing An, and no one else.
The Imperial Preceptor Jingping was a sage, a man who acted by principles of his own; whoever stood in his path he removed. So long as you did not block his way, he would even become your good friend—but let even a good friend block his way, and he would turn on him without a flicker of recognition.
Xing An was a different breed altogether. He cared only for collecting. Collecting the fleshly bodies of the powerful—those who had reached the divine realm in one aspect or another!
His peculiar passion was to cut from you whatever he desired, yet not kill you; he would let you loose to graze, hoping for a second harvest.
And the man was strong beyond all reason.
The Heavenly Sage Academy of that time had not yet been the Heavenly Sage Academy, but it had gathered the mightiest experts under heaven—nearly half the strong of Jingping Kingdom assembled there, along with a dozen or more flood dragons of the Spirit Bridge realm—and he had beaten them all to a rout.
In the end they had only won by relying on the tonics Shen Mu had refined. Even so, Fan Xuanshu, the former Hierarch of the Dark Demon Cult, had died in battle, and his death had made Granny Zhu what she was.
After that fight, the gravely wounded lay abed for more than ten days. Xing An's fighting strength was like nothing Shen Mu had ever seen. And the man was monstrously gifted besides, his comprehension of every divine art and Daoist method reaching extraordinary heights. His Art of Creation had been passed down to him by Ban Gongcuo, yet even Shen Mu had never attained the height he had!
An existence like that was too terrifying.
Shen Mu turned to look back at the Golden Peak.
Buddhist light blazed from it into the heavens, and on the surrounding peaks a host of demon monks sat or stood or lay in every posture imaginable—some standing on one leg, some with wings spread, a thousand shapes and ten thousand attitudes—all of them urging on the Buddhist dharma, joining the Little Tathagata and the other masters atop the Golden Peak to deliver and convert Kui the Shaman God.
Above the Golden Peak the Buddhist light congealed into substance, like a golden tide gathering into a radiant lotus throne, and upon that throne the twenty heavens emerged, with Buddhas great and small faintly appearing and gods encircling them—majestic and profound indeed, the Buddhist dharma vast, the commotion fearsome, the sound of Buddhist chanting rolling on without cease! "Buddhist dharma so splendid, so magnificent—and before Xing An it would not withstand a single blow," Shen Mu thought. The masters of Little Thunderclap Temple were all occupied now with suppressing and converting Kui the Shaman God; they likely had no attention to spare for Xing An, and even if they could free their hands, they would be no match for him.
"Little Thunderclap Temple does have a few great demons of Hierarch rank, but faced with a fearsome existence like Xing An, the most they could do is delay him a little.
And judging by the Little Tathagata's temperament, he may not necessarily help me. " Shen Mu steadied himself and thought: "The only one I can rely on now is myself. Poison, the Myriad Gods' Natural Art—will they be enough to deal with him. .
. " He truly had no confidence at all. Xu Shenghua and the Xuanliao Demon Ape had noticed something was happening and hurried over on the wing. "Who is that carrying the box?
" Xu Shenghua's heart went cold.
He said in a low voice: "How savage! Is he a god?