Chapter 390: Calamity Approaches!
Crack!
A bolt of lightning flashed, its power diminished by the dense fog, striking the old man with little effect.
“First strike!” the old man murmured inwardly. When his master had broken through the barrier, he had endured twelve strikes of heavenly thunder. He felt he should face a similar ordeal.
Boom!
The second strike of heavenly thunder was even more violent, piercing through layers of fog to strike him.
After a long moment,
Boom!
The lightning dissipated. The Purple-Robed Elder wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, silently counting, “Eleven strikes!”
Just one more strike remained!
Below the great hall, the other two elders exchanged worried glances.
The pressure from the heavens intensified. The twelfth strike of heavenly tribulation would be the most perilous.
Even if he survived the final strike, two more trials awaited him.
Barrier-breaking could not be interrupted; he had to overcome all three gates in one unbroken surge.
Boom!
The final strike of heavenly thunder gathered, lightning flickering across the sky. Disciples of Immortal Inquiry Mountain craned their necks upward, but the dense fog obscured everything.
Crack!
Pfft!
The lightning struck. The Purple-Robed Elder’s flesh ruptured, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.
The Purple-Robed Elder’s purple robes were tattered beyond recognition, his body riddled with countless wounds, and his hair charred. He was a pitiful sight.
Yet, against all odds, he was still alive!
He had successfully weathered the first heavenly tribulation!
The second trial was the Yin Wind Pass, which required only the divine soul, not the physical body.
At this moment, everyone’s attention was fixed on the Purple-Robed Elder, completely oblivious to the thickening mist in the sky.
The mist wasn’t just thickening over Immortal Inquiry Mountain; it was enveloping the entire Chaotic Cloud Mountain Range.
Whoosh~
A yin wind swept through, signaling the arrival of the second trial.
Enveloped by the yin wind, the Purple-Robed Elder suddenly froze, his mind descending into chaos. His thoughts became heavy as lead, his eyes glazed over with confusion.
He stared blankly into the air, realizing his perspective was shifting. He could now see through the mist.
Through the swirling fog, he saw his junior disciples, the great hall beneath his feet, and beyond it, the Grandmaster’s Divine Statue.
The statue…
Why did it look so strange?
The once solemn and dignified daoist figure had changed. Its serene gaze slowly lifted until their eyes met.
A mocking glint appeared in the statue’s eyes, and its lips curled into a faint smile, as if ridiculing his audacity for daring to aspire to immortality.
The Purple-Robed Daoist’s heart jolted, as if struck by five thunderbolts. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be seeing things.
How could a divine statue move?
Though this statue had been crafted from countless treasures, it was still an inanimate object. How could it possibly move?
The Purple-Robed Daoist’s mouth slowly widened as he watched the Grandmaster’s Divine Statue crack like brittle pottery. A dense network of fissures spread across its surface, resembling a spiderweb engulfing the entire figure.
Something inside the statue seemed to be writhing violently, struggling to break free from its ceramic prison.
Crack… crack… crack…
Fragments of the statue shattered and crashed to the ground. The continuous, fine cracking sounds, like mice gnawing on grain, intensified his terror.
The fissures widened, and the Grandmaster’s Divine Statue’s face grew increasingly grotesque with each crack. Its eyes remained fixed on him, unblinking.
The Purple-Robed Elder felt a chill run down his spine. Through the widening cracks, he saw it!
He saw what was hidden inside the statue!
At the same time, he noticed his two Junior Brothers sitting beside the statue, seemingly oblivious to the unfolding chaos. They remained seated, eyes closed in meditation.
“Run! Run!”
“Junior Brothers, run!”
The Purple-Robed Elder strained his voice to a hoarse shout, desperate to warn his Junior Brothers. But the two figures in the great hall remained motionless, as if deaf to his cries.
“Run!”
The Purple-Robed Daoist roared frantically, his voice lost to his two Junior Brothers and the disciples below, who seemed utterly oblivious.
Whoosh~
A yin wind dispersed the dense fog. A disciple whispered, “Will Master succeed?”
“Silence.”
The hall fell silent once more.
Yet to the Purple-Robed Daoist, the sound of the stone statue’s fragments falling was deafening. He couldn’t understand why his Junior Brothers couldn’t hear it.
Bang!
In an instant, the divine statue shattered, fragments scattering wildly. The entity trapped within was finally freed.
What a grotesque sight! The Purple-Robed Elder’s eyes burned crimson as he stared in horrified disbelief.
It resembled a skinless giant standing atop the high platform, the shattered fragments like its discarded garments. The sacred sword originally held by the Grandmaster’s Divine Statue now rested in its hand.
At the giant’s feet, his two Junior Brothers stood like child attendants, flanking the statue on either side.
The giant’s eyes blazed with madness and cruelty. Suddenly, its lips stretched into a manic grin, as if it had conceived some twisted amusement.
The Purple-Robed Elder watched helplessly as the giant hand descended upon his two Junior Brothers, gripping their heads and twisting with brutal force.
Crack!
The two elders died instantly.
“Junior Brother!”
The Purple-Robed Elder’s eyes burned with fury as he struggled to save them, but his efforts were futile.
Meanwhile, the yin wind continued to buffet his divine soul, sending a sharp pain through him. This pain momentarily cleared his mind, and he suddenly understood.
“Something’s wrong…”
“This isn’t right!”
The Purple-Robed Elder grew increasingly certain that everything he had witnessed was an illusion.
No, it must be an illusion!
How else could he explain why his two Junior Brothers had ignored the statue beside them?
They were both powerful cultivators who had broken through two barriers, nearly as strong as he was. It was impossible for them to have missed such a drastic change in their surroundings.
Moreover, a crowd of disciples stood outside the great hall. They couldn’t have failed to notice something amiss either.
Therefore, this was all an illusion—a trial set by Yin Wind Pass!
The more the Purple-Robed Elder thought about it, the more confident he became. He watched calmly as the monster devoured his Junior Brothers, tearing their bodies apart and staining the ground crimson with their spilled entrails.
“Ha! You can’t fool me!”
The Purple-Robed Elder smiled confidently. Now that his Junior Brother was safe, he felt relieved, even the searing pain in his divine soul seemed insignificant.
A moment later, the scene before him shifted. The surrounding space shattered like puzzle pieces, revealing the world beyond.
The Purple-Robed Daoist gazed at the familiar dense fog, faintly discerning the silhouettes of disciples gathered below the great hall. He knew he had broken through the illusion.
Though the disciples couldn’t see him, he could barely see them.
His body was covered in wounds, and his divine soul had been ravaged by the yin wind, leaving him exceptionally weak. Yet he smiled.
Is this the Yin Wind Pass?
It’s far too simple.
But the Purple-Robed Daoist couldn’t understand: if it was so easy, why had his master perished here?
Could my master have been so weak?
He shook his head. Why dwell on such thoughts? I should focus on the present. Who knows what the third gate holds?
As he pondered, he propped himself up and casually glanced at the gaping hole above the great hall. He froze.
His mind went blank. Cold sweat instantly soaked his wounds.
The Grandmaster’s Divine Statue…
…was looking directly at him!
(End of the Chapter)