Chapter 225: The Yin-Yang Zen Body
Hooo—Song Yan slowly regulated his breathing. The Guanxu Sword Eye rippled like water through the mist.
Every ounce of his attention was fixed upon the monk before him.
The means by which this man had probed Wang Ke’s protective spiritual energy far surpassed anything a cultivator at the peak of Qi Refining could muster.
Foundation Establishment?
No. The other party had already revealed his aura, and it was unmistakably that of Qi Refining.
What was going on?
Doubt was doubt, but Song Yan’s hands did not slow for even a moment.
Three flying swords were deployed, and the Huanyue Sword Formation rapidly took shape.
The Wuyue flying sword was more than capable of holding the formation’s core, which meant the natal flying sword, Buxizhou, could be freed. While Song Yan manipulated the sword formation, the sword-spirit Little Xian could assume control at any moment.
His sword finger swept through the air. Buxizhou shot forth like a white rainbow piercing the sun.
Yuanzhen regarded Song Yan’s face with mild surprise. A mere Qi Refining cultivator—how could he move so freely within this illusory mist formation?
But soon, the hostility within his heart churned, and he grew irritable. “A Qi Refining junior from the Kingdom of Chu—you shall die as well!”
Before him, demonic flame coalesced into three skull-shaped orbs the size of embroidered balls, spinning forward.
Song Yan felt a flicker of bewilderment. You’re only a Qi Refining cultivator yourself, aren’t you?
From within both sleeves, azure serpent sword qi surged and condensed upon Buxizhou’s blade.
Black-and-white sword light arced across the sky in a single streak.
Hummmm—
Sword qi poured forth like splashed ink, slashed out by Buxizhou!
A fierce wind tore through the great mist.
In an instant, the skull-shaped demonic flame was annihilated. The sword light had not yet dissipated as it continued its charge toward Yuanzhen.
At the same moment, the Huanyue Sword Formation was already in motion.
Yuanzhen’s blood ran cold. Sensing the danger, his body flickered backward.
A shadowy afterimage of black and white retreated through the air.
Where Yuanzhen had stood, the sword light passed through, and his form dissolved like a phantom bubble, vanishing into the mist.
Song Yan gazed coldly into the distance. That black-and-white afterimage flickered faintly in the fog, its spiritual light dissipating to reveal Yuanzhen’s true form.
He slowly raised his head to look at Song Yan, and in his eyes flickered a deep astonishment.
That single sword strike had appeared unremarkable, yet the moment the blade was drawn, the myriad phenomena of heaven and earth had flashed past in a single breathtaking glimpse. The sword’s momentum was endless and self-sustaining.
The power of that strike alone was formidable enough. Yet it was not this that had triggered his instinct for mortal danger.
What truly made him wary was the peculiar offensive mounted by the three flying swords in formation.
“Flying swords forming a formation?”
Yuanzhen was momentarily confused.
He possessed considerable knowledge of formations, and a single glance at the sword formation’s movements revealed that its power was far from what it appeared on the surface.
Yet there was no longer time for contemplation.
The disturbance here would surely have been sensed by other cultivators. Foundation Establishment cultivators might already be en route.
The illusion formation would not hold much longer.
Though this Ghost Valley disciple had failed, the true objective of this expedition—the Divine Ability Relic—was already in hand.
Any further entanglement risked unforeseen complications.
“Heh heh.” Yuanzhen suddenly pressed his palms together, his smile grim. “This humble monk had underestimated the cultivators of Chu.”
“Matters here are concluded. Benefactor Song, Benefactor Wang—we shall meet again.”
His kasaya billowed. He cast one deep look at Song Yan, then slowly faded into the great mist.
Almost simultaneously, the mist that had blanketed the valley began to dissipate.
Yuanzhen had vanished.
Song Yan’s brow furrowed deeply.
The man had not attempted to seize Wang Ke or forcibly slay him, yet he claimed matters here were concluded. Then what had been his true objective?
The surrounding crowd surged toward the central clearing. Song Yan turned to Xiao Ju and Xiao He, who had rushed over. “Watch Wang Ke.”
With that, he activated the Lingyunyi movement technique at full power and departed the valley.
Yuanzhen left a profoundly unsettling impression. He had originally assumed the man’s target was Wang Ke—that he intended to kill and seize his treasures. Now it seemed the matter was far from so simple.
Being marked by such a sinister individual was an exceedingly uncomfortable feeling.
Especially when that individual hailed from the Central Domain.
The Guanxu Sword Eye whirred to life. Faint traces of spiritual energy still drifted through the air, not yet fully dispersed.
They belonged to Yuanzhen.
Strangely, beneath the Guanxu Sword Eye’s gaze, there was another trail of corrupted spiritual energy—distinct from Yuanzhen’s, yet eerily similar.
Growing closer, the trails became ever clearer.
Mountain winds howled, and the pines roared like fury.
Song Yan’s Lingyunyi slowed to a halt, and he stopped in his tracks.
Gazing intently ahead—
Upon the mountaintop, two “Yuanzhens” stood facing each other.
One wore gray-white monastic robes, his countenance compassionate, though his eyes brimmed with malice.
The other was wreathed in pitch-black demonic energy, its eyes hollow, like a puppet.
To his surprise, Wu Huaguo was there as well.
She was imprisoned within a restriction cast by the demonic “Yuanzhen.” Though still alive, she could neither move nor speak.
Could it be that his target was her?
The sight of two Yuanzhens appearing simultaneously was beyond Song Yan’s comprehension.
But it mattered not. In the world of immortal cultivation, there was no shortage of bizarre techniques he had never heard of.
He simply assumed it was some demonic art capable of producing a doppelgänger.
What truly alarmed him was that this demonic “Yuanzhen,” wreathed in demonic energy, possessed spiritual energy far exceeding the Qi Refining stage.
Beneath the Guanxu Sword Eye, the real and the illusory were laid bare.
Though that body radiated a terrifying aura, its movements were stiff, and the flow of demonic energy was sluggish and obstructed—clearly flawed in some essential way.
The Yuanzhen at the peak of Qi Refining was the true body.
A clone whose cultivation surpassed the original? He had never heard of such a thing.
Sensing Song Yan’s arrival, Yuanzhen’s true body turned its gaze slowly, settling upon him.
A cold smile curled at the corner of his mouth. “Ninth level of Qi Refining, yet you dare come alone. Benefactor Song’s courage is admirable.”
“So be it.” He pressed his palms together. “This humble monk is re-cultivating his Buddhist power and lacks spiritual resources. Benefactor Song, lend me your assistance.”
Before his words had finished, the demonic “Yuanzhen”—the clone wreathed in black energy—took a sudden step forward. An oppressive aura far beyond the Qi Refining stage cascaded like a tidal wave. Rock faces cracked. Grass and trees bent double.
Song Yan’s body sank slightly, but he did not retreat a single step.
He had endured the pressure of three late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators from the Profound Abyss Sect when his own cultivation had been but the first level of Qi Refining.
Recalling those days, he had truly hung between life and death with no certainty of either.
The current opponent’s aura, though nowhere near that magnitude, was still vastly superior to any ordinary Qi Refining cultivator.
Such terrifying power. Such overwhelming presence.
And yet it did not fill him with dread or make him falter.
His heart hammered, and he felt the natal flying sword within the Zhen Dao Sword Domain hum and resonate.
Song Yan was no hothead who acted on impulse.
Quite the opposite. In this moment, his mind was utterly clear, without a single extraneous thought.
Yuanzhen’s true body was at the peak of Qi Refining—perfectly manageable. The demonic clone, though possessing spiritual energy far exceeding Qi Refining, moved with wooden stiffness and was clearly incomplete.
If he deployed the Qingguang Tian Daming Dharma Body, leveraging the technique’s natural suppression of demonic arts, he might be able to hold his own.
All he needed to do was pour everything he had into swiftly slaying Yuanzhen, and this demonic clone-puppet would surely collapse on its own.
Every thought resolved in a single instant.
Almost in the same breath, the Wuyue flying sword plunged into the ground. From within the sword box, several phantom swords of wind and thunder flowed outward, alighting in a circle around Wuyue.
Song Yan had always been refining the Huanyue Sword Formation. If phantom swords could temporarily replace flying swords to form a Spirit-Gathering Sword Formation, they could also replace flying swords to enhance the Huanyue Sword Formation.
Though the duration was shorter and the consumption of sword qi greater, the formation’s power would be amplified.
The Qilin Lord and the Lianli swords surged forward like fish entering water, charging toward Yuanzhen.
From the demonic clone’s display of pressure to Song Yan’s counterattack and the sword formation’s completion—the span of a single heartbeat.
In the ancient ages, all knew that a sword cultivator’s combat power far surpassed that of ordinary cultivators of the same realm, yet none understood the true source of that power.
If one spoke of sword intent or the natal flying sword, in the eyes of others they were merely superior magical artifacts or spiritual treasures.
It could not be denied that a sword cultivator’s prowess was closely linked to the strength of their natal flying sword. Yet the natal flying sword itself was not the key.
Or rather, it was not the sword itself, but the influence it exerted upon the sword cultivator.
Forged from the heart that seeks the Dao and the will of the Sword Dao, the natal flying sword was the very embodiment of a sword cultivator’s path.
During cultivation, it allowed the sword cultivator to focus more deeply, pushing their innate talent to its absolute limit.
In battle, it enabled the sword cultivator to cast aside all distractions and interference, rendering the mind utterly transparent.
To concentrate upon a single point, and one could reach the pinnacle.
This was precisely why the combat power of numerous sword cultivators in the ancient age had exceeded that of ordinary cultivators of the same rank—and why they could even slay enemies far above their own level.
Yuanzhen’s expression shifted. He had not expected this minor Qi Refining cultivator to still dare counterattack in the face of his Zen Body’s might.
Yet Yuanzhen was no ordinary figure.
In his former life, he had been a cultivator of the Desire Realm, comparable to a Daoist Foundation Establishment cultivator. It was only because he had secretly practiced demonic arts that his cultivation was crippled and he was expelled from the Jingye Zen Temple.
Now, relying on demonic arts to re-cultivate, he had not yet recovered his former power. But his combat instincts were still far beyond those of any ordinary Qi Refining cultivator.
He extended his great hand, and over a dozen prayer beads slowly materialized before him.
Golden light blazed around his body, and faint Sanskrit mantras flickered within the radiance, arising and ceasing in cycles.
Those dozen prayer beads transformed into golden seals, each one diminishing the force of the two flying swords’ attacks.
At the same time, a darkwood alms bowl was summoned from within the golden light, thrust forward.
It blocked Buxizhou’s black-and-white sword light, keeping it at bay.
“Benefactor Song’s sword-controlling art is truly exquisite. Even in the Central Domain, this humble monk had never seen its like.” Yuanzhen’s tone carried a note of mockery.
Hooo—
Song Yan adjusted his breathing, striving with all his might to fill the sword formation with dense sword qi.
“Heh heh. A mantis trying to stop a chariot. How utterly deluded.”
Yuanzhen smiled faintly.
At that moment, the demonic Zen Body wreathed in black energy had already closed to striking distance.
The demonic form spread all five fingers wide. Towering demonic flame condensed in its palm, and a slowly rotating swastika demon seal manifested, pressing down upon Song Yan with savage force.
Yuanzhen regarded the other’s seeming lack of reaction and chuckled softly. He slowly closed his eyes.
“Excellent.”
The prayer beads in his hand rolled one by one between his fingers.
His lips murmured, reciting the Sutra of Kṣitigarbha’s Deliverance.
But in the very next instant—
A piercing sword cry erupted from the ground beside his ear.
Yuanzhen opened his eyes in confusion, and an inexplicable tremor shook his heart.
A colossal black hand reached out from behind Song Yan, arching over his head. Five thick fingers plunged deep into the demonic energy and seized the demon seal!
The hand was black as ink, and between its fingers and palm, mysterious golden lines glimmered faintly.
A flash of golden light—and the demon seal shattered with a thunderous crack.
Yuanzhen stared in disbelief at what stood behind Song Yan. That towering white-bone Dharma Body gazed down from its superior height at Yuanzhen’s demonic clone.
With the demon seal destroyed, the demonic flame that had filled the sky surged back like a hundred rivers flowing to the sea, devoured entirely by the white-bone Dharma Body. Bit by bit, it transformed into pitch-black flesh and sinew, spreading and growing along the right arm.
“You…”
Staring at the Dharma Body behind Song Yan, Yuanzhen could barely form words.
The Jingye Zen Temple was but a small monastery in the Central Domain, but its lineage stretched back to ancient times. Its scripture repository housed a vast collection of secret and esoteric texts.
Among them were demonic manuals seized from demonic cultivators slain or suppressed by Buddhist predecessors.
The critical points of the demonic techniques were typically destroyed, then compiled into volumes for the sect’s disciples to study, that they might understand the methods of demonic cultivators.
Yuanzhen had always considered himself a prodigy of extraordinary talent. From a single summary with all key points excised, he had reverse-engineered an entire technique for cultivating a demonic clone. He called it the Yin-Yang Zen Body.
It was for this reason that his cultivation had been crippled and he had been expelled from the Zen Temple.
Even so, he had never once regretted it, for he had tasted the power of that demonic clone!
But…
The events unfolding before him left his mind struggling to turn.
How could this Dharma Body possess such pure demonic authority?!
He had cultivated the Zen Body for years. The demonic clone had devoured the vital essence and souls of countless cultivators to barely reach its current level—far surpassing Qi Refining, bordering on half-step Foundation Establishment.
The instant that black hand had crushed the demon seal, he had clearly sensed a dominating aura that utterly eclipsed his own demonic art.
It was as though the other party was the true “demon,” while he himself was but a mortal struggling at the edge of the abyss.
Wu Huaguo, held in place by demonic energy restraints in the corner, saw her own panic and regret give way entirely to bewilderment and disbelief.
Fellow Daoist Song…
When had he cultivated demonic arts?
And such terrifying power.
Yuanzhen’s mind was thrown into complete disarray.
Even after his cultivation had been crippled by the abbot, he had always regarded himself as a Buddhist cultivator of the Desire Realm.
Setting aside the fact that his Zen Body allowed him to dominate all Qi Refining cultivators of the age, his reconstructed Sacred Art—combining both Buddhist and demonic cultivation—gave him a foundation sturdy enough to claim invincibility beneath Foundation Establishment.
Moreover, this was merely the Kingdom of Chu, a remote and backward border state.
Yet in the instant his prized “Zen Body” was suppressed, all those advantages seemed to crumble into hollow phantoms.
They could no longer be relied upon.
Though the situation on the surface still appeared evenly matched, a seed of fear had already been planted deep within Yuanzhen’s heart.
Then it took root and sprouted with lightning speed, spreading like wild grass.
Yuanzhen was dazed, and Song Yan was equally surprised.
He understood well the Great Light Dharma Body’s suppressive effect upon certain demonic cultivators, but such immediate and decisive domination exceeded even his expectations.
In the moment Yuanzhen’s mind was blank, Song Yan’s eyes narrowed.
Beneath the Zhen Dao Sword Domain, sword qi surged wildly, converging upon the solitary moon atop the Wuyue flying sword.
“Gaaaah—”
The cry of a crow resounded through the heavens.
Song Yan’s expression was detached. He pointed a finger lightly toward Yuanzhen. The solitary moon hung high.
“Moonfall.”