The Hui Men (Secluded Gate) martial arts were masters of demon subjugation. To the mundane ear, the chant sounded utterly ordinary, yet to the ears of demons and fiends, it was as if ten thousand bolts of lightning struck simultaneously. Ordinary demons would invariably be shaken to the point of complete soul disintegration. The Buddhist school possessed not only compassion but also devastating means of demon conquest—means often fiercer, more resolute, and more uncompromising than those of the Daoist sects.

With a single Buddhist invocation, the Great Hero Venerable, the Great Might Venerable, and the Great Courage Venerable unleashed the three sound-based divine abilities of the Buddhist Heavenly Dragon Chant, Lion's Roar, and Wrathful Wisdom King. The Heavenly Soldiers and Generals, who practiced orthodox Daoist immortal arts, were unmoved by this sacred chant. However, the disciples of the Nine Nether Dao and the dark creatures suffered a catastrophic blow; it was said that over one hundred thousand beings spewed blood from their seven orifices and collapsed, utterly defeated.

Gu Xichen felt displeasure. A stream of chaotic light shot forth from above his head. The formless Chaos Bell, indistinct and hazy, emitted a single, resonant chime. The demonic subjugation magic of the echoing Buddhist chant was instantly swallowed by the sound of the Chaos Bell. The bodies of the three elder monks trembled, and they took a slight step backward. Gu Xichen, meanwhile, remained seated motionless upon the White Bone Demon Dragon Chariot, merely widening his eyes to scrutinize the monks blocking their path.

The accompanying disciples of the Nine Nether Dao and the dark creatures were first struck by the sacred chant. Internally, their organs felt as if they were being scalded by boiling oil—an indescribable torment—their very souls seemed deep-fried. They were nearly annihilated by the monks' single resounding invocation.

When Gu Xichen’s Chaos Bell sound finally erupted, its deep resonance spread like a black mist obscuring the sun. The disciples of the Nine Nether Dao and the dark creatures felt a sudden coolness wash over them. They found inexhaustible strength surging through their bodies, and any minor injuries vanished without a trace. They stood up invigorated, immediately launching into a torrent of curses directed at the monks obstructing their way.

The disciples of the Nine Nether Dao, guided by such "upright" mentors as Miao Hua, Siren, and Mo He, and the dark creatures led by the "virtuous gentleman" Grand Governor Black Jack, could truly be considered paragons of every "excellent" human quality.

The moment they began to curse, a flood of foul language erupted like the churning waters of the Yellow River. What was even more terrifying was that among this multitude cursing together, hardly two insults were the same.

The eight hundred and three monks blocking the path were all venerable high monks devoted to rigorous ascetic training. The three elder monks were all Da Luo Jinxian (Grand Golden Immortals). Of the eight hundred disciples behind them, one hundred were Taiyi Jinxian (Greater Celestial Golden Immortals), and the remaining seven hundred were high-ranking Golden Immortals. Buddhist arts placed the greatest emphasis on the cultivation of the mind and temperance. The monks' capacity for endurance far surpassed that of ordinary men.

When a few individuals cursed them, they acted as if they heard nothing.

When dozens cursed them, they merely smiled.

When hundreds cursed them, they simply shook their heads.

When thousands cursed them, they turned and walked away, refusing to stoop to their level.

When tens of thousands cursed them, the faces of the monks began to shift slightly.

When hundreds of thousands cursed them, the facial muscles of the monks started to twitch.

When millions cursed them, the monks' eyebrows began to jump uncontrollably, and their complexions involuntarily changed color.

When tens of millions began to offer greetings to their ancestors and descendants, and given their powerful divine senses, the monks absorbed every single curse from the tens of millions without missing a beat, smoke began to issue from their seven orifices. Even in the eyes of the three elder monks—Great Hero, Great Might, and Great Courage—blood vessels bulged. Clearly, they had reached the absolute limit of their rage. When several hundred necromancers, with exceptional vulgarity, directed thousands of undead creatures to enthusiastically engage in certain explicit and unrestrained acts of collision in front of the formation, intending to clearly demonstrate the nature of their purely violent, non-emotional "interaction" with the ancestors and descendants of these monks, the monks exploded!

It was too humiliating. Thousands of undead creatures—dead donkeys, dead mules, dead pigs, dead dogs, and the like—performed such defiling acts in the broad daylight, under the sun, and in full view of everyone, using every unimaginable posture. Furthermore, according to the pronouncements of these Nine Nether Daoists and dark creatures, one party involved in these acts represented the direct female elders and direct female descendants of these monks!

How could this insult be tolerated, let alone endured?

The Great Hero Venerable raised his Zen staff and roared in fury, “Disciples, slay these damned demonic fiends! Deliver the souls of these sons of bitches! Amitabha! A great blessing, indeed!”

The eight hundred and three monks, steaming with rage and with fire spewing from every pore, charged headlong into the Heavenly Net and Earthly Net Formation, which had willingly opened its gates. Following three resounding chimes from the Chaos Bell, the Heavenly Soldiers and Generals converged within the formation. A moment later, a chorus of shrill howls and furious curses emanated from inside. After about the time it takes to boil one Xuan Zhong (a unit of time), the eight hundred and three bald heads were ejected one by one from the great formation. After that, there was nothing left.

The three Da Luo Jinxian, one hundred Taiyi Jinxian, and seven hundred Golden Immortals were reduced to just eight hundred and three severed heads. Nothing else remained. They were utterly annihilated, not a trace left behind.

The divine Buddhist radiance swirling above the Great Snow Mountain Iron Clasp Temple slowly dissipated. The three great Venerables who had been reinforcing the temple with their light were dead, and naturally, the light no longer shone upon the sanctuary.

Countless high monks and venerable masters within the Great Snow Mountain were struck dumb. The loss of the eight hundred disciples was one thing, but the three Da Luo Jinxian—beings who had achieved near-Bodhisattva merit—were struck soul-dead in just one Xuan Zhong. What kind of grand formation was this? What a perilous array!

High above in the void, within a mysterious restriction invisible to ordinary sight, a corpulent monk seated upon a lotus pedestal gazed down with a troubled expression and sighed, “Alas, alas. My Buddhist lineage is facing imminent disaster.”

He let out a bitter laugh and muttered to himself, “What ruthless methods. The Heavenly Net and Earthly Net Formation still exists in this realm. What else are these people capable of? However, compared to the Immortal Slaying Sword Formation, your actions were truly merciful!”

The two attendant monks standing behind the large monk looked at the Nine Nether Dao army, which was advancing like a massive black cloud obscuring the sun and sky. Suddenly, they simultaneously raised their right hands. The large monk was momentarily stunned, as if intending to stop them, but after a brief frown, he remained silent.

The palms of the two attendant monks flashed with a point of Buddhist light. Just as they were about to attack the advancing Nine Nether Dao army, a streak of green light suddenly flashed, and three old Daoists materialized from the void. The foremost Daoist smiled faintly, “Gentlemen, when our Kun Miao Lineage was destroyed back then, we could only watch.”

The three monks froze. The two attendant monks simultaneously clasped their hands in prayer and chanted a Buddhist sutra. They nodded lightly, and their figures slid backward until they vanished.

The large monk sighed softly, shaking his head. “In the end, their cultivation was insufficient, and their state of mind unstable. Ten years of wall-facing meditation will serve as a minor penance.”

The old Daoists chuckled and nodded in complete satisfaction before dissolving back into the green light.

Only after the old Daoists had disappeared, and after the time it took to brew a cup of tea, did the large monk tentatively extend his right hand, murmuring quietly to himself, “One grain of sand, one speck of dust, one world; the snap of a finger is ten years… Ten years have passed within my Buddha Realm. Venerables, you may come out now!”

The two monks who had just vanished gracefully rose from the palm of the large monk. They clasped their hands in salutation and simultaneously praised the boundless Buddhist wisdom of the large monk.

The large monk smiled slightly, remarking quite smugly, “Indeed. We of the Buddhist path keep our word; we must not utter falsehoods. Ten years of wall-facing it shall be, but the location of this penance requires some careful consideration.”

The three monks exchanged a smile and simultaneously merged into the vast expanse of cold wind and swirling clouds.

Upon the White Bone Demon Dragon Chariot—fashioned from the bones of dozens of types of spiritual beasts and inscribed with countless Lunar Divine Script, Solar Divine Talismans, ancient Wilderness Scripture Witch Curses, and even secret demonic runes of the Nine Nether Dao—Gu Xichen sat properly on a throne made of white bone, forming a hand seal. Black smoke and malevolent energy coiled around the massive cloud chariot, while chilling demonic energy constantly erupted from within, perfectly embodying the aura of a great Devil Lord.

The Heavenly Net and Earthly Net Formation, comprised of tens of millions of people, had slaughtered the three obstructing Venerables in less than fifteen minutes. Gu Xichen regarded this feat as nothing more than a joke. If the tens of thousands of high monks and venerable masters across the Seven Great Zen Temples ahead could not stop the Nine Nether Dao army, how could a mere few hundred monks possibly succeed?

He did not know who had sent them out to die, but whoever dispatched them clearly lacked any foresight.

The massive army advanced mightily. Suddenly, a golden Buddhist radiance erupted from a mountain a hundred li high directly ahead. A majestic monk, ten chi tall, stout and broad, clad in golden armor and wielding a formidable, eight-zhang-long Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle, burst forth from the golden light.

This monk possessed the fierce appearance of a dragon, with leopard eyes and a tiger's whiskers, looking exceptionally mighty. With a slight wave of the Vajra Pestle in his hand, the phantom images of five Great Wisdom Kings flickered within the golden light. The divine power of the Five Wisdom Kings was channeled into the monk, granting him immense strength, his skin shimmering with golden light as if he were a divine statue cast from vajra and glazed jade.

Leading the vanguard of the Nine Nether Dao army were three thousand six hundred Golden Immortal-level Minotaurs, arrayed in a single line, each holding large black banners and pennants.

It was unclear how these Minotaurs grew. When their cultivation was at the Void Realm, they stood about four to five meters tall. When they reached the Heavenly Immortal realm, they grew to about five zhang tall. By the time they cultivated to the Golden Immortal level, each of the three thousand six hundred Minotaurs stood twelve zhang tall.

With their twelve-zhang stature, holding banners and pennants reaching twenty-four zhang high, the vanguard of the Nine Nether Dao looked imposing, fierce, and bristling with killing intent.

But as soon as the towering monk charged out, his Buddhist light and auspicious aura swept forward. The three thousand six hundred Golden Immortal Minotaurs cried out in alarm, unable to hold onto their large banners, and tumbled backward in disarray.

Seeing the vanguard Minotaurs humiliated, the towering monk swung his Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle, letting out a triumphant laugh, "I am Sarvadhara, the Guardian Golden Net of Poison Dragon Temple! Who dares fight me?"

He stomped the ground viciously, and instantly, the void and the earth spanning ten thousand li around were churned into a chaotic mess like porridge. Dozens of mountains below shattered into dust, pressed deep into the ground. Although Sarvadhara’s cultivation was only at the initial stage of Da Luo Jinxian, his physical resilience was terrifying.

Among the many Buddhist cultivators of the Great Snow Mountain, Sarvadhara’s Immovable Golden Net Body ranked among the top hundred—an extraordinary divine ability.

The three Venerables of Iron Clasp Temple had been wiped out without even a ripple. The Abbess Wuxing, losing face, sent out Sarvadhara, who was already highly renowned throughout the Great Snow Mountain. Sarvadhara’s Buddhist cultivation was only initial Da Luo Jinxian, but his physical body could withstand the attacks of a late-stage Da Luo Jinxian. Moreover, the Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle in his hand was a supreme Buddhist treasure; even Abbess Wuxing dared not allow him to strike her with it.

Sarvadhara ground his teeth with a loud grind, and with overwhelming dominance, charged toward the Nine Nether Dao army.

“Damn it all, hack him to death!”

With a furious roar, ten Minotaurs, each possessing Taiyi Jinxian cultivation, hefted their gleaming great axes and charged toward Sarvadhara.

Minotaurs relied on brute force, and their sinews, bones, and skin were hammered into extreme hardness. However, the gap in cultivation between them and Sarvadhara was too vast. Sarvadhara simply blew out a long breath, sending the ten Minotaurs flying backward with agonizing cries.

Sarvadhara’s long breath acted like blades. The charging Minotaurs could not withstand the force of his exhalation; the skin and muscle of their upper bodies were stripped away by the fierce wind, exposing their internal organs. Fortunately, there were necromancers in the Nine Nether Dao army. The spells cast by these necromancers were lethal to normal lifeforms but served as life-saving methods for dark creatures. After a flurry of activity from several hundred necromancers, these ten Minotaurs were barely saved.

The Monkey, squatting and daydreaming on the canopy of Gu Xichen’s White Bone Demon Dragon Chariot, narrowed its eyes. It glared fiercely at Sarvadhara, lifted the staff in its hand, and prepared to strike.

Yang Jian, standing at the shafts of the chariot, also had his eyes flashing. Finding the challenge appealing, he hefted his Three-Pointed, Double-Edged Halberd and strode forward.

Gu Xichen clapped the Mystic Ice Rope at his waist, firmly binding both of them to the demon dragon chariot. He said lightly, “Mere small fry. Do you two really need to take action? Someone suited to him has gone forward.”

The Monkey and Yang Jian paused, then saw a mighty figure, ten li high, wielding two Xuanhua Great Axes, rush out from the army ahead. The two smiled slightly and obediently stopped. Indeed, with that brute taking action, was it necessary for them to personally intervene?

The Giant Spirit God, ten li tall and whose voice shook the four directions, swung his two proud axes and roared, “Oink, oink! You bald donkey, I’ll show you who the real granddaddy is!”

Sarvadhara, fiery by nature, couldn't suppress his rage upon hearing the Giant Spirit God's foul challenge. His figure shifted instantly, growing to match the Giant Spirit God at ten li tall.

He opened his enormous, cave-like mouth and roared, “Nonsense! Whose grandson are you?”

With a strange cry, Sarvadhara’s Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle swept a field of Buddhist light toward the Giant Spirit God’s head.

The Giant Spirit God cackled strangely, his eyebrows splitting with glee. He raised his two great axes, not bothering with defense, and swung them like a berserk butcher, hacking toward Sarvadhara’s body from all directions.

Clang! With one strike, Sarvadhara’s Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle, bearing the might of the Five Great Wisdom Kings, struck the Giant Spirit God's scalp, cracking it open and shattering the crown of his head into powder.

Crack! With dozens of sounds echoing, the Giant Spirit God’s two great axes moved like whirling blades, slicing nearly a hundred pieces of muscle, large and small, from Sarvadhara’s body. Wherever the axe light passed, faint fissures appeared in the void. Sarvadhara’s purplish-gold, translucent skeleton let out a loud crunch, and nearly a hundred of its bones were broken by the Giant Spirit God’s onslaught.

Both were brutes, both fought with suicidal abandon. After suffering such grievous injuries, any normal person would have retreated to their lines for healing. But the Giant Spirit God and Sarvadhara both let out cries of ecstatic pain before redoubling their efforts to kill each other. The Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle pulsed with the light of the Five Great Wisdom Kings, which erupted with heaven-piercing Buddhist flames. The five supreme subjugation powers of Buddhism unleashed their force, subjugating all specters and demons, subjugating all Great Freedom Heavenly Demon Kings, subjugating all Asura gods and demonic kings, subjugating all venomous dragons, and subjugating all soul-draining Yakshas. The five great divine powers manifested as crimson rings that shot out, piercing the Giant Spirit God’s chest.

The Five Subjugation Powers, accompanied by continuous Buddhist chanting, exploded inside the Giant Spirit God, who grunted in pain, his upper body nearly blasted to pieces.

His two Xuanhua Great Axes traced trajectories that were profoundly mysterious, faintly imbued with the breath of the ancient Great Desolation, and grazed Sarvadhara’s neck.

A scream rang out as Sarvadhara’s neck was cleaved by an axe. His head exploded, and a golden Sarira, the size of a peck measure, flew upward, fleeing desperately toward the Great Snow Mountain.

The mighty Giant Spirit God, his head shattered and chest ripped open, gathered all his remaining strength for one final swing of his right axe.

“Breaking Void Flash! You son of a bitch bald donkey, die!”

With one axe stroke that shattered the void, the Giant Spirit God instantly teleported next to Sarvadhara’s Sarira and cleaved it in two with his axe.

The Giant Spirit God gave a triumphant, sinister laugh, then swallowed Sarvadhara’s shattered Sarira. Fierce true fire surged within him, instantly burning Sarvadhara’s true spirit to ash. The pure energy within the Sarira rapidly integrated into the Giant Spirit God’s flesh, and in the blink of an eye, all his injuries were completely repaired.

“Fool is a fool. After all these years, he hasn't improved!” The Monkey shook its head, casually tossing its staff aside, cupping its chin with both hands, and squinting deeply.

“Hmph. He is fit to be a general, but not a commander,” Yang Jian’s assessment was brief and sharp. He turned his gaze calmly toward the distant horizon.

The Chaos Bell chimed eighty-one times consecutively. The numerous members of the Nine Nether Dao sang a chorus of victory, cheerfully continuing their advance.

The Vajra Demon Subduing Pestle left behind by Sarvadhara was carried back by the Giant Spirit God as spoils. A cloud of black smoke rose from Gu Xichen’s White Bone Demon Dragon Chariot, placing the pestle alongside the Zen staffs and magical artifacts previously claimed from the monks like Great Hero, Great Might, and Great Courage.

The massive army marched onward for less than a thousand li before the first scattered signs of the Snow Mountain appeared below, dotted with pools of water glazed with thin ice. Near one such pool grew a particularly lush grove of purple bamboo.

Two pairs of bright-red-beaked, white-jade, delicate parrots flew lightly out of the purple bamboo grove. They circled the vanguard of the Nine Nether Dao army for a while before calling out in unison: “Great monsters, small monsters, all of you stop! Stop!”

One parrot strutted forward and shouted arrogantly at the disciples of the Nine Nether Dao, “Our Venerable said she has set up a minor restriction. If any of you can break the restriction, you may pass. If you cannot break it, go back wherever you came from!”

Another parrot called out with extreme arrogance, “With so many demons and ghosts here, does anyone dare compete in divine ability with our Venerable?”

A strange cry echoed, and a monstrously huge dragon maw suddenly appeared beside the four parrots.

Roar! In one gulp, the four parrots vanished into the massive dragon mouth. Crunch, crunch. After a round of chewing sounds, the complaint of the Demonic Tide Dragon, Gen, resonated across millions of li of void: “Truly skinny! Nothing but skin and bones! Just as expected from monastery birds—no meat, just a pile of feathers!”

A furious shout erupted from the purple bamboo grove, followed immediately by a cloud of white vapor ascending.

“You despicable fiends! You are utterly audacious! You make this honored one furious! Today, this seat shall reduce you all to ashes and scatter your bones, casting you into the eighteenth level of hell so you may never reincarnate! I shall teach you the consequence of offending the pure ground of my Buddhist sect!”

A female cultivator, strikingly beautiful and clearly imitating the dress style of the legendary Guanyin Bodhisattva, stood fiercely on the white cloud, glaring intensely at the Demonic Tide Dragon, Gen.

Gu Xichen glanced coldly at the female cultivator and commanded in a low voice, “A master. Troublesome. Monkey, it is your turn!”

The Monkey glanced at the female cultivator, then gave a dismissive sneer and mocked, “Grandpa Sun has changed his ways these past few years; I don't fight women!”

Rolling his eyes, the Monkey sneered, “My children, go and educate this woman!”

A light whistle sounded. The eight Great-Armed Spiritual Apes that the Monkey had saved long ago floated gently into the air, each carrying an iron staff, and charged toward the woman.

The female cultivator curled her lip in disdain. Holding a willow branch, she flicked it toward the eight great apes. (To be continued)

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