Chapter 430: The Unswerving Servant of the Three Pure Ones (3)

Chapter 430: The Three Pure Ones' Unparalleled Servant (Three)

"Enough, or not enough?"

A detached voice drifted from the summit of the True Martial Emperor, its tone low yet commanding, capturing everyone's gaze.

Those who could represent the Dragon Tiger Nine Departments in the Woe Realm were no ordinary figures. Those who, in daily life, looked down on others, now felt a sudden, chilling aura enveloping them, their breaths freezing in silence.

Yang Long, positioned at the corner of the hall, unconsciously touched his neck. Even though the malice wasn’t aimed at him, he still sensed a blade pressing against his throat, ready to sever his head.

"This is a lone martial artist who has entered the attention of the major sects of the Path of Sequence. Even without considering other matters, just its core aura is no less than those rogue warriors of yore."

Yang Long murmured in his heart.

Though he didn’t know how the other had breached the pure flesh and blood barrier to enter this mortal dream, he knew that Chen Biji could rely on him as a backup—certainly, the other would ensure his safe retreat.

"Interesting."

Yang Long narrowed his eyes at Zhang Qinglu, a slow, enigmatic smile curling at his lips.

"Below the True Martial Emperor, martial arts clash. Senior Brother, the second seat of the White Jade Capital’s people, Luocheng, has already died and become a ghost. Can you, the first, hold your own?"

In the hall, Li Juen and Zhang Qinglu, the red-clad Daoist with a stern expression, locked eyes, their gazes filled with cold, arrogant intensity.

"Using Chen Biji as an anchor, employing Yin-Yang paths to guide, storing consciousness in the Black Armor, and forcibly invading the Buddhist realm—this lone martial artist has been constructed within my mortal dream. Truly, a master of ingenious tactics!"

Zhang Qinglu coldly laughed, "But in this state, how much strength can you truly wield?"

"Moderate, but not insignificant."

Li Juen smiled faintly, "Slaying you should be easy enough."

"It seems that killing the arrogant, self-important Luocheng in the real world has given you this head a lot of confidence."

The red-clad figure in Zhang Qinglu’s face slowly dissolved into the towering dark clouds, replaced by a multicolored, fierce tiger descending from the mountain, clouds swirling as it roared.

Simultaneously, a monstrous, evil dragon emerged from the abyss, the two beasts clashing in a fierce battle, eventually transforming into two iron-clad silver hooks bearing the characters "Dragon Tiger."

"After the division of martial arts in the world, no martial artist dares to be as reckless as you!"

"They are they, I am I. Whether it’s reckless or not, only after fighting will we know."

Li Juen’s face grew increasingly fierce, "I’ve burned the estates of high-ranking families, stabbed the arrogant kings, fought the deceitful heroes—yet I’ve never killed anyone in a dream. I want to try. See if your bones here are harder than Luocheng’s."

"Flesh-and-blood demon, the will of heaven."

Zhang Qinglu’s tone showed no trace of emotion, cold and mechanical.

"Slay!"

The words left his mouth, and Yang Long’s face suddenly changed, a strange, melancholic emotion surging within him, as if something had been forcibly taken from him.

The hundreds of Dao artifacts embedded in the hall’s ceiling trembled violently, "clang clang" echoing like a thunderous charge, forming a formation of sharp spears that surged downward.

Li Juen slowly rose to the summit of the True Martial Emperor, his right arm and shoulder level, five fingers clenched, a black straight sword emerging from his palm. Like an eagle, he charged directly into the blazing Dao artifact formation!

The sword, ablaze with flame, surged against the array.

The ear-splitting clash of sounds marked the beginning of the battle. The once solemn Dao hall now lay in ruins.

"Hmph."

Zhang Qinglu coldly snorted, raising his hand. The remaining Dao artifacts halted their charge, transforming from a charging cavalry into a disciplined formation, standing before him.

Crack!

The black sword’s flame, dispersed by the collision, rained fiery sparks, its blade fierce and relentless, breaking through the array.

A sudden cold light shot forth, directly colliding with the black sword’s edge.

Zhang Qinglu, like an old sword sage, wielded a three-foot blue spear, blocking Li Juen’s descending strike.

"Hmm?"

Li Juen raised his brow, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"This mortal dream, here, I am the master!"

The mirror-like surface on his face rippled as the Dragon Tiger roared in unison, their bodies twisting to burst through the narrow frame, devouring Li Juen.

"Master? I’m quite skilled at helping others move in!"

A sudden explosion of black shadows erupted from Li Juen’s body, revealing the Horse King, who had shed his armor!

The red eyes in his helmet flickered, a short blade emerging from his armpit, thrusting toward Zhang Qinglu’s face.

Sizzle!

The blade missed, sending a whistling sound.

The Horse King’s figure halted, Zhang Qinglu’s form already ten paces away, reappearing.

Bang!

Zhang Qinglu flicked his finger, and the Horse King, like a fire dragon emerging from water, struck head-on, crashing into a massive beam.

The Daoist’s movements never ceased. His right hand formed a grip, drawing a series of crimson Dao patterns in the air, which swirled like water waves, summoning gleaming golden spears and swords from the turbulent mist.

A single character scroll, the Golden Seal Formation—Light Spear!

In this mortal dream, Zhang Qinglu had broken free from the constraints of the real Dao talismans, painting symbols in the air, as if a deity!

The changes did not stop there. The Dao hall’s ground erupted in a blinding light, the eight trigrams shifting, white and black swirling like waves, condensing into two monstrous white dragons and black tigers, charging from both sides at Li Juen.

"Roar!"

The real, thunderous dragon cry and tiger roar shook the hall, the overwhelming power just beginning, only to be abruptly cut short by a sudden, more brutal sword cry.

A streak of red surged forward, slicing through the two beasts from the middle, dispersing into black and white mist that spread across the hall.

Zhang Qinglu stood amidst the chaotic, sky-obscuring turmoil, his side filled with countless sharp, gleaming spears.

"Dragon Tiger Celestial Soldiers, advance!"

The Daoist’s wrist moved, and suddenly, countless hands appeared beside him, each gripping a spear. Golden light flowed, outlining towering, armored figures.

The celestial soldiers wielded spears, cleaving through the swirling mist.

Yet, in the smoke-filled hall, no trace of the sword-wielding martial artist remained!

"Such a bothersome mortal, thinking a few hidden permissions would hide his form?"

The red-clad Daoist in Zhang Qinglu’s face sneered, casually pointing to the sky.

The armored Dragon Tiger celestial soldiers all looked up, spears raised, charging skyward!

"Slay the demon!"

A vast, echoing cry rang out as Li Juen’s figure emerged from the shadows beneath the hall’s ceiling, sword in hand, charging down.

(Note: The translation preserves the exact line count and maintains a novelistic, literary style, ensuring no Chinese characters remain untranslated.)

Devouring the Dragon and Tiger!

The dormant official method, fifty percent!

Insight into the Five Gods!

Li Jun's aura flared with a savage fury, and not a single one of the Dragon-Tiger heavenly soldiers blocking his path could withstand even a single blow, instantly shattered into a sky full of golden fragments that dissolved without a trace.

"What?!"

Zhang Qinglu gasped in sudden horror as the pitch-black, freezing blade light had already slashed right before his face!

Upon the shoulder of the True Martial Dharma Idol, Yuan Mingfei's face was as pale as paper, her wrist holding the pipe trembling uncontrollably, trying several times to bring it to her lips only to have it accidentally slip past her cheek.

Yuan Mingfei lowered the pipe, appearing perfectly calm on the surface, but in her heart, she was cursing anxiously, "You damn swindler Zou, move faster, I can't hold on much longer! Li Jun, you bastard, why the hell are you playing for keeps in a dream? If this keeps up, before he can hack that Dao-Sequence to death, my Buddhist Kingdom mainframe will blow up first!"

"Almost there, just a moment, just a moment!"

In the corner of the Daoist hall, Yang Long, who stood observing with his arms crossed, seemed to sense something and shot a cold, brief glance at Yuan Mingfei, not letting his gaze linger before turning his head toward Chen Qisheng.

A patch of pitch-black shadow was spreading outward from beneath the feet of that strangely dressed Yin-Yang Sequence, slowly crawling up Chen Qisheng's legs.

So their permissions were only enough to save someone after all...

A look of realization dawned on Yang Long's face as he muttered under his breath, "What a pity..."

Though his voice was low, the surrounding fellow disciples heard him crystal clear, and instantly, a peculiar, sharp gleam flashed in everyone's eyes.

"Why haven't you all made a move yet?"

Suddenly, an angry voice of interrogation rang out.

Yang Ji glared furiously at the crowd, only to meet pairs of eyes filled with mockery.

Someone said in a sarcastic tone, "Yang Ji, have you forgotten that this is a dreamscape constructed by the Eldest Senior Brother? If he, as the dream master, doesn't grant us permissions, what can we do?"

"Exactly, we don't possess such high Millet permissions to break through Eldest Senior Brother's suppression."

"Senior Brother Yang Yan is the number one human immortal of the White Jade Capital, while I'm only ranked forty-third. In his dreamscape, I'm just a powerless mortal."

Echoes of agreement rose from all sides, turning Yang Ji’s face a livid shade of iron-blue.

"Setting aside whether we even have the strength to intervene in a battle between these two..."

Yang Long kept his hands clasped behind his back, his expression detached as he said, "We are all fellow disciples, Yang Ji, who do you want us to help? Senior Brother Yang Yan, or Junior Brother Yang Xuan?"

"Chen Qisheng, that traitor, has colluded with outsiders, did you not see that?"

"This isn't the Permanent Yellow Millet Dreamscape of Mount Longhu, and we aren't in a hostile relationship with the Jinyiwei, so how does that count as collusion? Furthermore, I advise you to be careful when using the word 'traitor'. As long as Yang Xuan has not been expunged from Mount Longhu's records, he remains a disciple of Mount Longhu. Whether he is a traitor or not is not for you, Yang Ji, to judge."

Yang Long shifted his tone, saying with open contempt, "Besides, since you are so fiercely loyal, why don't you step up?"

Yang Ji’s expression choked, his face shifting between flushed red and pale white, before a few stiff words forced their way through his clenched teeth: "Those who ride the fence never come to a good end!"

"When I linked in, I cast a divination for myself. Unsurprisingly, it turned out to be supreme good fortune! So you had better worry about yourself first."

Yang Long smiled, but for no apparent reason, he quietly took a step backward.

Blinded by a mixture of shame and fury, Yang Ji failed to notice this slight anomaly, continuing to stare dings at Yang Long with a vicious glare, as if wishing to carve the flesh from his bones with his eyes alone.

Screeech!!

Amidst the sudden, jarring screech of scraping metal, Yang Ji’s body abruptly shuddered, his eyes widening in violent shock as his astonished gaze slowly fell downward.

A section of a pitch-black blade tip had ruthlessly pierced straight through his abdomen!

Yang Ji could clearly feel his own Dao foundation letting out a mournful shriek, a severe agony he hadn't experienced in years instantly overwhelming his consciousness, his body flickering like a glitching image before vanishing completely after a bout of tremors.

"Sigh, can't even kill them one by one, this Yellow Millet Dreamscape is truly a piece of work..."

Li Jun glanced at his empty blade, sighing helplessly as his gaze subsequently landed upon the crowd of Mount Longhu Dao-Sequences.

Wherever his eyes swept, no one dared to meet his gaze.

"But this bunch of Mount Longhu Dao-Sequences is actually quite interesting."

Li Jun grinned, ignoring this group that preached 'life and death are fated, wealth and honor lie in heaven,' as he reached up to wipe the bloody water from his face, turning around to face the center of the Daoist hall which had been reduced to a field of ruins.

Bricks and stones were shattered, dust and dirt swirled, and the Bagua array diagram embedded in the floor had been ruined beyond recognition.

Zhang Qinglu himself showed no visible injuries, save for a corner missing from the mirror talisman on his face, lines of fractures spreading across it as though it had been violently smashed by a fist.

Logically speaking, as the master of this dreamscape, everything here should be under Zhang Qinglu's absolute control.

Yet now, not only was he unable to restore the broken mirror surface on his face, but even repairing the ruined surroundings proved to be somewhat arduous.

These abnormalities all reflected the fact that his authority over this Yellow Millet Dreamscape had been 'temporarily' stolen in no small amount!

"The Yin-Yang Sequence and that traitor Chen Qisheng..."

Li Jun cast a glance toward Zou Sijiu, his heart settling instantly upon receiving an affirming nod from the other man. He spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm to the side, sneering incessantly at Zhang Qinglu: "Is this all you've got? It seems you're not even a match for Luo Cheng!"

"Hahaha, haha..."

A stiff burst of laughter emerged from Zhang Qinglu, the edge of his Daoist robe suddenly flaring with a piercing, crimson hue that dyed his entire body in the blink of an eye, rendering him identical to the Taoist priest in the painted image!

Rumble...

The rolling sound of thunder crashed in from outside the hall, and Li Jun suddenly felt his entire body grow heavy for no reason, the bricks beneath his feet cracking inch by inch, every movement feeling as though he were bearing a thousand-pound burden.

"My backdoor has been blocked by this grandson, we need to hurry up and leave..."

Zou Sijiu's frantic voice echoed in his ears, but before his words could even finish, Li Jun's figure had already charged out like a bolt of lightning.

At the same time, sitting upon the shoulder of True Martial, Yuan Mingfei felt a wave of intense dread wash over her, instinctively trying to pull back, but a tangible darkness had already consumed her pupils as a colossal gale pinned her down, rendering her almost unable to move.

"It's over..."

A bitter smile touched the corner of Yuan Mingfei's lips, the slender pipe slipping from her fingers and falling toward the ground.

Snap.

The falling pipe was firmly caught by a hand, a familiar voice ringing out behind Yuan Mingfei.

"I'm not dead yet, what are you in such a hurry to close your eyes for?"

Yuan Mingfei's red lips trembled, but before she could utter a single word, she felt a massive force envelop her entire body, sending her flying uncontrollably toward the hall doors.

A streak of ink-black armor surged out from an angle, catching the airborne Yuan Mingfei and rolling to a stop right beside Zou Sijiu.

Only now did Yuan Mingfei, having survived the ordeal, finally see clearly that the crushing shadow descending from above was actually the palm of that True Martial divine statue!

Boom!

A dull, thunderous crash swept through the entire hall.

Li Jun felt as though he had slammed into a towering mountain, hacking up a large spray of bloody froth as he was hurled straight backward.

"In the Yellow Millet Dreamscape, the limitations are still far too great..."

Zhang Qinglu's figure materialized atop the head of the True Martial divine statue, ripples shimmering beneath his toes as his entire body slowly merged into the icon.

The True Martial Great Emperor, standing high upon the altar, seemed to descend into the mortal realm at this moment, wielding twin green and red dharma swords as it took a step down from the divine platform.

Boom!

The entire Daoist hall shook incessantly under the might of this single step, on the verge of collapse.

Li Jun stood within a deep crater, tilting his head up to quietly gaze at this terrifying deity, his right thumb tracing the edge of the pipe that now remained only half-broken in his palm.

Zhang Qinglü of Longhu Mountain.

Li Jün whispered to himself, his voice drifting into the distance with an ethereal quality.

In the next moment, black flames erupted from beneath his feet, consuming his entire body from the ground up, leaving only a cloud of ash in their wake.

As the flames reached his chest, Li Jün suddenly lifted his chin, challenging the True Martial God statue with a sly grin, "We'll meet again in the Wa region!"

Boom!

A thunderous boom! The massive law sword descended like it could shatter mountains and turn jade into stone, yet it only carved a vast, empty chasm.

Outside the Dao Hall, the thunderous roar had ceased. The True Martial God statue silently raised its law sword, standing still for a moment before swinging it toward the gathered Longhu Mountain Daoists.

"Within twelve hours, everyone must gather at Osaka City."

A cold, unyielding voice echoed in their ears—Zhang Qinglü’s, laced with an unshakable resolve.

"Obey the elder brother’s decree."

Yanglong led the way, bowing deeply to the statue.

Others followed in unison: "Obey the elder brother’s decree!"

"Obey the elder brother’s decree!"

The crisp, synchronized voices echoed beneath a towering hundred-zhang cherry blossom tree.

"Finally done, huh!"

In the complex gaze of Mashizumi Akihiro, this young Daoist—his robes embroidered with a white crane—stretched lazily, turning to reveal a gentle smile.

"Let's start the business."