Chapter 812: Death

Chapter 812: Death

“Thump~! Thump! Thump!” The sound of war drums, accompanied by howling winds, continued to ring out. Under the rhythm of the drums, the massive military formation pressed forward step by step.

The faster the drumbeats grew, the quicker their pace became. All breathed out in unison and inhaled together—hundreds of thousands of soldiers moved as one.

Opposite them stood an endless sea of followers from the Sect of Law, their faces obscured by the vastness of their numbers. They dragged enormous Buddha statues and raised towering soul banners, charging toward them with the fervor of beasts.

When the two forces collided, the center of the battlefield became like a grinding mill of flesh and blood, devouring everything in its path, spitting out fragments and remnants—and more importantly, these remnants were still alive.

If death no longer existed in battle, if there was no longer a finality to it, then everything inevitably spiraled into extremes.

“Aaaah!!” Believers of the Sect of Law, their heads pierced with stone statues, screamed out incantations and charged toward rows of White Lotus faithful.

Their bodies had long since been severed, but through stitching and purple talismans on their foreheads, they rose again, sustained by pain alone.

Their hands were gone, replaced by rusted blades bound to bones. They had become beasts and livestock.

The Great Witch had said that all this suffering stemmed from the enemy. If they could kill them, Old Master Shi Du would show mercy and grant peace to all.

This kind of power was not great, but there were too many of them. Unless torn apart into eight pieces, they would rise again.

In this dimly lit world, both sides clashed for days and nights. Amidst the muddied blood and flesh, when every last bit of strength drained from everyone’s bodies, the great battle finally came to a halt.

Everyone was filled with despair and numbness, moving purely on instinct.

Each person dragged their exhausted bodies slowly away from the putrid battlefield of flesh and blood, relying on willpower to reach their own lines before collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

Bai Lingmiao, covered in blood, staggered through the carnage. They couldn’t die—they would rise again once they recovered their strength.

Two days prior, Bai Lingmiao's eyes had dried up from crying. Exhausted beyond measure, she could only let the remaining White Lotus believers return to the hall to rest.

Now her mind buzzed, as though her thoughts weren’t her own anymore. It was too terrible—everything was too terrible.

Looking at the distant red mass writhing like a flesh wound, Bai Lingmiao felt no emotion left within her. In this time, she had endured far too much.

At that moment, a group of people dressed in black robes slowly walked through the crowd. They moved as quietly as possible, not waking anyone. Whenever they reached someone, they knelt down and placed a red piece beside them.

Soon, they arrived before Bai Lingmiao, placing the same red piece in her hands and those behind her. “Aojing Wande Kugou Yongcun. Aojing Wande Kugou Yongcun.”

Only when she held it did Bai Lingmiao realize the red piece was *The Great Thousand Records*.

The followers of the Aojing Sect were attempting to distribute *The Great Thousand Records* to everyone, preparing for an even more ruthless battlefield ahead.

Bai Lingmiao’s lips trembled slightly, wanting to say something, but ultimately said nothing.

If *The Great Thousand Records*, which brought such suffering, could end all this quickly, then she understood—she had no right to stop what was happening.

“Saint! Saintess!” A disheveled young boy rushed out from among the corpses and threw himself before Bai Lingmiao, kneeling repeatedly. “Saintess, please help my grandfather! I beg you!”

Bai Lingmiao gently lifted him up and led him toward a nearby shed.

Inside various low huts lay many people, their bodies unmoving, without armor. They were not soldiers, but laborers, like wooden figures collapsed on the ground.

It didn’t matter where they slept now—neither disease nor cold would kill them.

After walking nearly half a stick of incense, the boy suddenly turned and ran toward a dark shape in the gutter.

As the black mass buzzed and dispersed, Bai Lingmiao realized it was actually a living man, previously hidden beneath a thick layer of flies.

He was an old man, covered in age spots. His head was sunken, his belly leaking, and there was a hole in his temple. White maggots writhed inside.

Under normal circumstances, he would have already died—but he was still alive, coughing with all his might.

Yet no matter how hard he coughed, the itching throat showed no sign of relief.

The boy wiped his tears and begged Bai Lingmiao, “Saintess, please help my grandfather! He is so tired, yet he cannot sleep. He is so hungry, yet he cannot eat. Whatever he eats leaks out from below.”

Bai Lingmiao looked down at the intestines that had slipped into the gutter.

Death had vanished. Even if Bai Lingmiao wanted to do something, she could not. And he was old—he should have died long ago.

This was his fate. No matter what techniques or methods she used, she could not defy destiny.

Bai Lingmiao approached the old man, watching his suffering, and silently recited the White Lotus liberation sutras in her heart, filled with compassion and pity.

She knew it wouldn’t help, but it was all she could do.

Just as Bai Lingmiao’s heart overflowed with compassion, under the shocked gazes of everyone around, the suffering, desperate old man stopped moving.

Soon, black flies swarmed over him, crawling into his mouth.

“He’s dead? Really dead? The Saintess can kill! The Mother of Eternal Birth has manifested!”

“He’s really dead! Thank goodness! I can finally die!”

Hope began to flicker in the eyes of everyone around. Then, like a spreading flame, it spread outward.

Gradually, crowds began to gather. Their eyes brimmed with longing and reverence, surrounding Bai Lingmiao in a circle, bowing to her again and again.

“I…” Bai Lingmiao stared at her own hands. “Has the Heavenly Way of Death returned?”

But seeing the half-body kneeling before her, Bai Lingmiao immediately understood. The Heavenly Way of Death hadn’t returned—it was simply that she now possessed the power to bring death.

Once she comprehended all this, Bai Lingmiao instantly grasped what it meant. Here, there was death; in the Sect of Law, there was none. This meant a tremendous boost in morale! Pain was no longer eternal—anyone could die whenever they wished!

Soon, word spread among the White Lotus faithful. Even though everyone was exhausted, they became excited.

Especially as more people witnessed Bai Lingmiao granting final peace to those who should have long since died.

The camp, once lifeless and gloomy, began to pulse with vitality. No death, no life. Only death could bring birth.

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