Sword of Coming

Sword of Coming

To the north of the Locust Flower Nation was the Deity Visage Nation, the latter of which was a Buddhist haven, filled with countless monasteries.

While at the border pass, Chen Ping’an had collected another stamp on his passport, and he would flip it open to take a look whenever he had the chance. His current passport was a new one that had been arranged for him by Wei Bo. His previous passport was already completely covered in stamps, and it had been left in the bamboo building.

He was in his usual get-up, holding a hiking pole in his hand, wearing a conical bamboo hat, while carrying a bamboo bookcase on his back. He traveled on his own, occasionally taking an aerial route via flying sword, but always choosing to walk through mortal cities. At the moment, he still had a long way to go until he reached the Spring Dew Garden that was home to Song Lanqiao.

On the way from the Silver Screen Nation to the border of the Deity Visage Nation, Chen Ping’an had encountered many southbound spirits, but aside from that one occasion where he had sprung into battle in the Ritual Baton Prefecture, he had chosen to passively observe from afar on all other occasions, finally beginning to display some of the lofty detachment befitting a cultivator.

Ever since leaving the Malicious Ghost Valley, he had begun focusing wholeheartedly on practicing his six-step walking meditation, planning to reach the milestone of two million repetitions before thinking about anything else.

If he hadn’t encountered that group of four demon slayers earlier, Chen Ping’an’s original plan would’ve been to slay all of the ghosts on his own, then stay for an additional few days at the Golden Bell Monastery, during which time he would ask about the golden Sanskrit text on the on the azure pages of the scripture.

Of course, he would break the text down into parts and ask the monk about them on multiple, separate occasions. The text didn’t contain many characters, only 260 in total, and there were some repeated characters used, so it shouldn’t take long to decipher the entire script.

The allure of wealth was always prone to bringing out the worst in people, as had been the case for the martial artist master and disciple duo of the Golden Bell Monastery, so precautions had to be taken.

After passing through two of the Deity Visage Nation’s southern cities, Chen Ping’an noticed that there were many wandering monks in the area. They were all very thin and emaciated, trudging along with bowls in their hands, surviving off the generosity of others.

Upon encountering one such traveling monk, Chen Ping’an would raise a hand vertically in front of his own chest to extend a Buddhist salute.

Not only was the Deity Visage Nation rife with monks and monasteries, martial artists were also extremely common here. On this day, Chen Ping’an encountered a party of armed escorts traveling toward the north in a yellow desert. Their camel-drawn wagons were packed with the goods that they were escorting, and hanging from the camels were tinkling camel bells.

All of the male armed escorts were very physically imposing, and the female ones had dark complexions and a heroic aura about them, displaying a different sense of beauty than what was regarded to be conventional and traditional.

A young man on horseback spotted Chen Ping’an, whose white robe was laden with yellow sand, and much of it had gotten into his hair as well. He was trudging along arduously against the wind, and the convoy was quickly leaving him behind.

The young man tugged on his reins to slow his steed, then bent down to pick up a water pouch hanging from his saddle as he smiled and asked, ”Do you have enough water on you? You’ll still have to travel over fifty kilometers to get out of this Yellow Wind Valley. If you don’t have enough water, then feel free to take this.”

Chen Ping’an turned to the young man, then smiled as he pointed at the Sword Nurturing Gourd hanging from his waist and replied, ”It’s fine, I have water in this gourd and a water pouch in my bamboo bookcase.”

The young man returned the water pouch to its original place on his saddle, then said, ”It’s extremely cold in the Yellow Wind Valley at night, and there’s been more and more unrest popping up everywhere of late. A lot of dirty things have entered the world, and that’s why so many monks have been coming out of all of the major monasteries in recent times.

“I suggest you do your best to keep up with us, and ideally, you should spend the night beside Mute Lake up ahead. Where there are gatherings of people, there will be an abundance of Yang energy, and we’ll all be able to look out for one another. Many spirits often come to wreak havoc in this area at night, and I can assure you those are not just tall tales, so make sure you don’t end up on your own.

“Having said that, there’s no need to be overly afraid. There are many eminent monks and Bhadantas staying in the Yellow Wind Valley, residing in thatched huts and reciting Buddhist scriptures, so even if malicious spirits do emerge, they may not dare to hurt anyone.”

”Thank you for your cautionary words. I’ll be sure to reach Mute Lake by nightfall,” Chen Ping’an said with a grateful nod.

The Deity Visage Nation wasn’t within the territory that encompassed the dozen or so nations including the Silver Screen Nation and the Locust Flower Nation. Hence, the mortal citizens and martial artists of the Deity Visage Nation were already accustomed to seeing ghosts and spirits.

In the southeastern region of the Northern Complete Reed Continent, spirits and humans had already been cominglings for countless years, and there were many proposed ideas in the Deity Visage Nation’s imperial court on the matter of how to deal with these ghosts and spirits. However, after the storyteller from the Blissful Dream Nation removed the restrictive formation, spiritual energy had gushed into the dozen or so nations.

The cultivators on the border were the first to detect this phenomenon, and the ghosts and spirits weren’t slow to react, either. Just as merchants flocked to wealth, ghosts and spirits were instinctively drawn to spiritual energy, thereby resulting in the phenomena in the Ornate Headpiece Prefecture and the Ritual Baton Prefecture of the Locust Flower Nation, which was a result of the mass migration of ghosts and spirits from the Deity Visage Nation.

This was the growing unrest that the young man had spoken of.

Chen Ping’an continued onward at a moderate pace, and as the sun began to set, he arrived at the small, green lake that was, for some reason, referred to as Mute Lake by the locals.

There were already several groups of people gathered there, and campfires had been lit, while wine was being drunk to ward off the cold.

That night, several streaks of sword light appeared from the west, then raced into the Yellow Wind Valley like a flurry of shooting stars. They descended several dozen kilometers away from Mute Lake, and a chorus of ghostly howls instantly rang out.

A few minutes later, the streaks of radiant sword light raced away into the distance, but during this time, all of the people gathered on the bank of Mute Lake remained as composed as ever, continuing to drink and engage in festivities while discussing among themselves which sect they thought those passing swordsmen were from.

Even after the swordsmen were long gone and it was already very late at night, very few of the people by the lake retired for the night to rest. There were even still some children battling it out with wooden sabers and bamboo swords, chasing after another amid peals of tender laughter.

Chen Ping’an was sitting by the lake, leaning back against his bamboo bookcase while drinking Treasure Mirror Mountain stream water from his Sword Nurturing Gourd.

He spotted a woman wearing a veiled hat leaving her group on her own before crouching down by the lake to wash her face. She raised a hand, and there was a string of white bells around her wrist. By the time she lifted a corner of her veil, Chen Ping’an had already withdrawn his gaze before redirecting it toward Mute Lake, which was said to have been very deep.

According to legends, the lake hadn’t dried out even once in the past one thousand years. Even during multi-year-long droughts, the water level didn’t drop a single inch, nor did the water level rise in the slightest even under the most torrential of rainfall.

All of a sudden, a series of faint ripples appeared over the center of the lake. A black spot emerged, looking around in a discreet fashion before quickly ducking back down into the water. The woman remained seemingly completely oblivious, carefully washing her face and smoothing down her hair. Each time she raised her hand, the bells around her wrist would tinkle and chime, but the sound was drowned out by the sound of the festivities on the bank.

Right at this moment, a massive vortex appeared silently over the surface of the lake, following which an inky-black fish monster that was over a hundred feet in length abruptly leaped out from within. It opened its mouth up wide, revealing a set of sharp and jagged teeth as it pounced on the woman.

Chen Ping’an remained seated on the spot as he watched from afar with his chin resting on his hand.

Eight people appeared around Mute Lake in eight different directions in unison, and each of them was holding a compass that they slammed into the sand beneath them. They then began making a string of hand seals while taking a series of astral steps, each releasing a silver line that shot forth toward the center of the lake.

The eight silver lines met at a certain point on the surface of the lake, and a radiant, silver Eight Trigrams formation that outshone even the moon instantly took shape.

The eight figures were displaying flawless teamwork, and they seemed to have been taught by the same master or at least had come from the same sect. Each of them reached out with one hand to wrench a silver line out of the compasses on the ground, then joined their middle and index fingers before pointing them into the air above the center of the lake.

Eight more silver lines shot forth to form a cage, following which the eight figures began to revolve in a circle, adding more and more curved rungs to the cage. As for the woman who had to face the fish monster all on her own, the eight figures didn’t appear to be concerned for her safety at all.

The fish monster had already sensed that something wasn’t right as soon as the compasses struck the ground, and it immediately closed its mouth, but it was unable to arrest its own momentum and continued crashing toward the woman in the bamboo hat.

As opposed to running for cover, the woman sprang high up into the air to meet the monster, then slammed it down into the Eight Triagrams formation on the surface of the lake with an almighty punch. As soon as the fish monster’s enormous body came into contact with the center of the formation, a small mountain instantly came crashing down onto its head, sending it hurtling toward another part of the formation.

Once there, it was struck by a barrage of lightning that caused it to spasm uncontrollably. As it continued to be tossed around in the formation, it was subjected to an array of different elemental attacks, including seas of fire and storms of lightning spikes. In the end, it transformed into a little girl in black and began fleeing for its life, bawling into its hands as tears came streaming down its face.

Occasionally, it was struck by a bolt of lightning that rooted it to the spot and caused it to spasm uncontrollably, and in between the lightning strikes, it was having to constantly evade falling mountains, pouncing fiery dragons, and volleys of ice spikes.

Chen Ping’an was beginning to feel a little sorry for the fish monster, and he averted his gaze slightly while also closing one eye.

He had witnessed more than his fair share of malicious spirits, and regardless of the ultimate fate that befell them, all of them appeared like almighty beings of unfathomable power when they first appeared. A prime example was Fan Yunluo of Meticulous Skin City, and even the spirit that had been locked in a confrontation against the ghosts of Copper Stench City had a bunch of lackeys at its beck and call.

All of the people gathered by the lake were cheering loudly while chugging down wine, thoroughly enjoying the show being put on by the eight immortals. The children had been quite fearful of the initial form that the fish monster had appeared in, but all of that fear quickly evaporated as the fish monster was reduced to a sniveling little girl.

The most prized form of entertainment in the Deity Visage Nation was watching immortals capture demons, and it was an occasion more celebrated and festive than even the Spring Festival.

The little girl was doing her best to remain a foot above the Eight Triagrams formation on the surface of the lake, but at the moment, she was being crushed under a round log that had roughly the same circumference as a well.

Unable to evade the falling log, she was forced to raise her hands above her head to keep it at bay, and tears and snot were flowing down her face as she sniveled, ”Those bells belong to me! I gave them to a passing scholar who was on the verge of death.

“He told me that he was traveling to the capital for the imperial examinations, and that he didn’t have any money left, so I gave him those bells. He promised to return them, but it’s been over a hundred years since then, and he still hasn’t come back! He’s a liar!”

This sounded like an absurd story, but Chen Ping’an believed her.

Mute Lake most likely had this fish monster to thank for the stability of its water level throughout the years, regardless of the conditions. Furthermore, all those who had spent the night at the lake had been able to do so safely without suffering any injuries and casualties, and they had the fish monster to thank for that as well.

Regardless of what her reasons were for protecting everyone, all those who had benefitted from her protection throughout the years should’ve been thankful to her. However, the stereotypical image of a demon like herself was that she had to have been a malicious creature eager to harm humans, so everyone was jubilant at the sight of her being captured by these immortals.

From the moment that the fish monster emerged from the lake, Chen Ping’an had immediately detected a complete lack of malice and killing intent in her. He could tell that she was only interested in that string of bells, and that she had no interest in harming anyone.

As for the woman in the veiled hat, Chen Ping’an had already seen right through her hidden identity as a fifth tier martial artist... Or was it the sixth tier in the Deity Visage Nation? In any case, it was in light of all of these factors that Chen Ping’an had chosen to remain a passive bystander.

However, what he failed to anticipate was that the bracelet of bells worn by the woman in the veiled hat had once belonged to the fish monster.

In the face of the sniveling little girl, the woman in the veiled hat smiled as she stood on the bank of the lake and said, ”Don’t worry, we’re not capturing you to kill you. We’re here under the orders of the imperial preceptor of the Tug Rope Nation. They’re missing a river guardian over there, and the imperial preceptor thinks you’d be perfect for the role.

“Hence, he wants you to go to the Tug Rope Nation to preside over the water fortune there. This is a good opportunity for you, but I’m not going to lie to you and pretend that there are no risks involved. As a water monster, you have a natural affinity for water, so your chances of successfully forging a godly body to become a river guardian will be much higher than those of a deceased human.

“However, it’s still not a sure thing. I understand that capturing you by force like this is a little cruel, but it can’t be helped. We’ve been allies of the Tug Rope Nation’s imperial court for generations, and we’ve received a large sum of immortal currency from the imperial preceptor office as compensation for capturing you.

“As for the scholar that you gifted these bells to, I regret to inform you that not only did he have no intention of returning these bells, he made them a prized treasure of his clan instead and passed them down for generations. These bells were gifted to the Tug Rope Nation imperial preceptor in exchange for a promotion, as well as a posthumous title for his ancestor.

“If you want to curse him, you can do as you please once you become a river guardian, but for now, I suggest you surrender to spare yourself from further suffering.”

Despite the little girl’s best efforts, she continued to be slowly forced down by the log above her, and right as feet were about to make contact with the Eight Trigrams formation down below, she sobbed, ”You’re going to kill me! All of you are bad people who only know how to fight and kill others! I’m not going anywhere! This is my home, and I like it here! I don’t want to become some river guardian!”