Chapter 677: Stepping Straight onto the Peaks

Chapter 677: Treading the Peaks

Boom!

A dull thunderous bang echoed, and Li Jun's soaring form stretched into an indistinct blur, a shrill whistle tearing through the air as he smashed through several crooked, ruined buildings; the instant his feet finally found solid ground again, a massive shock surged up his legs into the earth like a buried bomb detonating, the ground rippling like a wave before bursting outward.

Dust mingled with fissures, coating his entire armor.

Li Jun lowered his gaze to his hands; both armguards were utterly shattered, the exposed fingertips to elbows a raw scarlet, as if thrust into a whirling blade formation, riddled with countless split wounds, the backs of his hands a bloody mess, stark knuckles jutting out.

"Still damn hard!"

Li Jun licked his gums, a metallic taste surging between his lips and teeth, he spat to the side.

With a gulp of icy air drawn into his belly, his heart hammered like war drums, his lungs straining to forge new strength, pumping it into the scalding rush of blood, igniting an ever fiercer aura.

Clangs rang in unison, shattered plates re-extending and re-coalescing to cover his grotesque wounds, his heavy breathing and the red flare of his solitary eye between the brows echoing each other.

Li Jun's feral eyes turned forward once more, fixing on the figure standing a hundred zhang away.

Zhang Ji's condition at this moment was even more wretched than Li Jun's.

The New Dao Order stripped away all excess flesh beyond the Dao foundation, severing carnal desire to achieve the Supreme Forgetfulness.

Thus born, the Eight Embodied Proof became the New Dao Order's ancestral artifact, substituting the original flesh.

The 'Yellow Court Embodiment' that Zhang Ji now inhabits is the sole solitary relic among Daoists today; back when the New Dao Order and the Mo Order exchanged furtive glances, it was forged by a Mo Order master, its strength said to rival that of the Sovereign's martial body.

Yet now Li Jun has beaten it to ruin, half its form reduced to nothing.

Though Zhang Ji hardly felt a pang of sorrow, he still harbored a bellyful of vengeful fire.

"Li Jun, what exactly do you seek with all this you've done?"

The battle had raged to this point; Zhang Ji, who previously deemed talk beneath him, finally could not suppress the question that had been turning in his mind.

But before his roar of fury, drawn into the cold air, could spread, a black lightning flashed and exploded before the Daoist!

A massive fist, like an angry dragon leaping from a thunder sea, loomed before him, swelling, swelling again!

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Like a storm of wind and rain, the heavy punches relentlessly hammered an invisible barrier, ripples spreading through space, growing into a turbulent surge.

Zhang Ji, missing his left leg, hovered a cun off the ground, his defensive divine sense alongside him shoved backward by the fist's shadow.

His brow furrowed slightly; the immense expenditure of divine sense finally let him feel a pang of pain he had not known in ages.

"Li Jun, can you not see Zhang Fengyue's purpose? He aims to sever all lineages, cutting off the path to divinity for the Three Teachings and Nine Schools—you are part of his calculation as well!"

Invisible to the naked eye, force raged like a flood, divine sense like a great dam barring a river.

What the eye could see were specks of blood spraying in the air, a figure seeming maddened.

The rear courtyard ablaze, authority seized, Zhang Ji was utterly shaken free of the Yellow Liang's influence, and in a flash he understood all the sordid scheming.

Stabbed in the back by the Eastern Emperor Palace, he now had no heart to continue entangling with Li Jun.

Moreover, with Yan Dongqing dead, in his eyes Li Jun had already achieved his goal; there was no need to keep fighting—sheathing his weapon would be the best choice for both.

But the situation now was the opposite: this martial man grew more excited the more he fought, like a rabid dog biting down and refusing to let go.

Unkillable yet unshakable, it made the Dragon Tiger Mountain Sect Master's anger blaze, yet he was powerless.

"Between you and Zhang Fengyue there is nothing but mutual exploitation—what are you playing at, throwing away your lives here?!"

Zhang Ji harbored silent hatred in his heart, but his voice sank low: "Li Jun, no matter what you scheme, the Heavenly Sovereign warns you this: the Martial Order is by nature a source of chaos; no matter your current relation with Zhang Fengyue, in the end he will not spare you."

Click-click-click-click-click.

Under the barrage of fist-shadows, fissures spidered through the void.

Thread after thread of sharp force seeped through the gaps, stabbing the Daoist's face like needles, his complexion darkening further.

"Mindless brute force, no different from the sect martialists before the Jiazi era—how foolish!"

Zhang Ji cursed low, his concern over the Yellow Liang's inner state igniting inner fire, he abandoned all thought of wasting words with Li Jun.

Only saw his figure leap sideways, his shattered torso motionless, yet a towering apparition a zhang high appeared behind him.

No-object technique, commanding the gods!

"Yellow Liang Talisman, Spirit Seal·Human Soldiers."

Zhang Ji muttered to himself, his icy gaze locked on the figure drowned in black-red lightning.

Boom!

The barrier woven of divine sense shattered into dust.

At the same moment, in the ruined city of Fuliang, suddenly rose the high neighing of warhorses and the clatter of iron armor grinding together.

The rubble beneath Zhang Ji's feet overlapped with an ancient battlefield from a thousand years past, conjuring forth a heavily armored cavalry host, spears like a forest, banners snapping in the wind.

On the dark banners, tigers leapt and dragons soared—unmistakably the emblem of the Dragon Tiger Dao.

Even more absurd, Li Jun sensed a familiar feeling emanating from these horsemen.

It was exactly the same sensation he had once experienced when, through Yuan Mingfei's Buddhist realm, he entered a Yellow Liang dream—identical.

"Why does this scent feel so familiar? Could these things all be Yellow Liang ghosts? Impossible, really—without a mortal vessel, how could these false souls manifest in the world?"

From the red eyes came the bewildered voice of the Horse King.

As an old wandering ghost who had long drifted in Yellow Liang, he had seen plenty of Yellow Liang ghosts.

In his youth, the Horse King often led a gang of equally restless brothers, sneaking into those on-the-verge-of-collapse, uncontrolled dreams to hold a bizarre, jovial gathering.

The reason was simple: such dreams are usually abandoned by their dreamers, and they teem with Yellow Liang ghosts.

No responsibility required, and they are extraordinarily stimulating.

Thus the Horse King knew Yellow Liang ghosts intimately, and understood that to enter the real world they must possess a mortal body.

Yet Zhang Ji's Daoist cavalry clearly relied on no vessel at all!

"Could the Old Turtle's so-called 'Positional Heavenly Sovereign' mean exactly this?"

Just as the Horse King pondered, the cavalry surged forward, charging at Li Jun.

Hooves thundered like rolling thunder, like a relentless tide surging forward.

The sight was truly terrifying; were an ordinary low-ranking sequencer to face such a massed formation, even armed with a gun, they'd likely just turn and flee.

But for Li Jun, these posed no threat whatsoever.

"What does Zhang Ji mean? Does he think these Yellow Liang ghosts can stop me?"

Li Jun's brows knotted tight; having reached Sequence Three, these people's abilities grew ever stranger, indeed bearing a hint of celestial immortals and buddhas.

However, Li Jun's hand movements left no room for doubt, the imposing pressure of the solitary Sequence Three sweeping outward!

At the same moment, Zhang Ji's dharma-image behind him likewise swept his sleeve.

Temper Martial, Vanquish Foe!

Yellow Liang Talisman, Golden Seal·War Instruments!

As expected, upon the pressure and blade's first contact, the latter collapsed instantly, men and horses flung aside.

The soldiers who had been flung from their horses seemed utterly unaffected, rolling on the ground and charging forth again, their assault speed undiminished from before.

Li Jun could see clearly that beneath the torn wounds of the soldiers lay iron bones, and the booming drums in his ears were unmistakably the clamor of their inner mechanical hearts.

In an instant, a troop of former Ming cavalry transformed into blood‑thirsty warriors bearing those mechanical hearts.

"The Way of Dragon and Tiger endures eternally!"

"Slay demons, eradicate evil, protect our Dao!"

The fervent cries rose and fell in chaotic clamor, stirring an inexplicable vexation in Li Jun’s breast.

"All flash and no substance."

Li Jun snorted coldly, stamped his foot, and the earth split instantly; his figure shot forth like an arrow.

Chen Qisheng, standing half‑in the air, also noticed the summons rising from the ground.

Puzzled, he lowered his gaze and saw a black‑red bolt of lightning pierce the enemy tide; where it passed, it did not raise blinding fire but rippling sheets of distorted space.

The disturbance spread like vengeful ghosts pursuing relentlessly, yet could never catch up to that straight‑rushing bolt of lightning.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Moments later, a deafening explosion surged into the heavens.

Yet Chen Qisheng’s attention was wholly seized by the violet specks flying out from the disturbance.

Although the colors differed, Chen Qisheng was certain these were the pure faith he had once seen upon the believers of Fusang.

Their number paled compared to before, but their brilliance surpassed it by an immeasurable degree.

At this moment Chen Qisheng finally grasped what these soldiers truly were.

They were not ghosts; they were plainly human!

They were no dream‑born Huang Liang phantoms, but Dragon‑Tiger devotees cultivating within a certain cavern‑realm dream.

"Position and rank—damn it, Daoist, I’ll curse your mother’s wretched status!"

Chen Qisheng’s eyes flushed red; he ignored the floating mountain before him, sweeping his sword downward to cleave the radiant faith.

Clang!

The azure sword‑light, condensed from true qi, passed unhindered through the sea‑like gathering of light points, yet produced no effect.

Simultaneously, a fierce threat descended from above; Chen Qisheng jerked his head up to behold a violent thunderstorm raging.

The celestial artillery that had previously restrained him— the astral fire of the Heavenly Track— now struck him down, hurling him dozens of zhang into the air.

The Daoist artifact named ‘Kunlun’ had, unbeknownst to anyone, inverted its mountain form, turning into lotus petals at the base that spun freely; the opened lotus heart gathered light, aiming at Zhang Jixi on the ground.

Though it seemed prolonged, all these aberrations occurred within a single breath.

Li Jun smashed through the entire formation, covering a hundred‑zhang distance.

And Zhang Jixi stood right before his fist!

"The Huang Liang talisman, the Thunder Seal—Purple Aurora."

The ravaged Daoist’s lips twitched, a half‑smile.

In the next instant, brilliant violet lightning filled heaven and earth.

Boom!

Chen Qisheng, flung and tumbling, forced his body to halt, staring in horror at the ground.

A colossal pillar of fire shot skyward; the visible shockwave rippled outward, shattering his rearward dharma‑image and causing his armor plates to clang.

The earth and stone sucked into the heavens became a meteor‑fire rain that hammered the ground; as the fire column dissipated, a bottomless crimson pit was revealed.

Rolling white smoke rose like fog, obscuring Chen Qisheng’s view of whether any figure still stood within.

The lingering tremor on the ground prevented his spiritual sense from probing inside.

"Jun‑ge!"

Chen Qisheng’s heart plunged into a valley, ready to rush heedlessly toward the ground.

"Master Zhang, long time no see."

Just then, a soft laugh echoed in Chen Qisheng’s ear.

The laughter was hollow and distant, as if resonating in his heart yet also drifting from a dream.

"Zhan Shun, do you still dare to appear before this Heavenly Master?!"

From the floating mountain peak came a furious reply laced with malice.

Suddenly Chen Qisheng felt as though he had been dragged into a bottomless ocean; intense suffocation and pressure enveloped him, while malevolent lurked in the shadows, eyeing him.

Chen Qisheng strained his gaze, peering through unfathomable depths of water, and dimly made out two figures standing on the sea’s surface above his head.

But what they were saying, Chen Qisheng could not hear a single word.

"Between me and the Heavenly Master there are only a few petty misunderstandings and grudges; if we speak them out, why would I dare not come before the Heavenly Master?"

"Petty? This is an entire Yongle cavern‑realm, a Bing‑rank celestial immortal, Zhan Shun—you have quite the nerve! Or do you think dragging the Heavenly Master into a dream grants you the right to fight me?"

"Heavenly Master, do not misunderstand; this is merely the fault of my subordinates, who act rashly and offend your dignity."

Zhan Shun laughed: "I have come this time solely to restore the authority. Of course, those who caused the trouble will not be shielded by me; I will hand them all to the Heavenly Master for judgment—kill or maim as you wish."

Upon hearing Zhan Shun say he was returning the authority, Zhang Jixi’s move to shatter this dream hesitated slightly.

"Just a pack of Huang Liang ghosts you keep; you think trading these worthless lives can gloss over the matter?"

"Heavenly Master, you are mistaken."

Upon the boundless dark sea, Zhan Shun brushed away specks of snow that ought not to be there from his shoulder.

"They are all my painstakingly cultivated capable aides; each loss is a grave blow to the Eastern Imperial Palace."

Zhang Jixi watched his actions, his eyes flickering, yet he snorted coldly: "Eastern Imperial Palace? The former Eastern Imperial Palace never harbored so many filthy specters; where do your dream‑lord rules come from? Do you think the Heavenly Master is unaware? Zhan Shun, your conduct is truly disgraceful!"

"We are each other’s equals."

Zhan Shun’s smile remained unchanged: "In your cavern‑realm, of the millions of believers, how many still see the light of the mortal world? The path is rugged; it need not imply mediocre talent—it may be that the immortals deny the way. Heavenly Master, do you agree?"

"Different paths, no collusion. It is not yet your place to criticize the Heavenly Master."

Zhang Jixi frowned, his voice icy: "Zhan Shun, the Heavenly Master tells you, even if you now return the authority, this debt can never be settled."

"Of course. The collapse of Yongle’s eternal dream will be fully compensated by the Eastern Imperial Palace; for every Daoist believer lost, I will make full restitution, ensuring the Heavenly Master suffers no loss."

Zhan Shun’s expression grew stern: "But Heavenly Master, you have just seen that the present Yongle cavern‑realm is not inhabited by me alone."

Zhang Jixi dismissed it: "You still have the strength to withdraw and come here to meet the Heavenly Master; what is there to fear in a mere secondary sequence?"

"Heavenly Master, your profundity obviates fear of a newly born Ten‑Direction Bodhisattva, however—"

Zhan Shun shifted his tone: "Do you not find it strange why Yuan Mingfei appears in the Yongle cavern‑realm?"

"Ha ha ha ha."

The laughter was sharp and sarcastic; Zhang Jixi’s visage curled with contempt: "Zhan Shun, you need not pretend here. You cast your net on the Heavenly Master’s domain to fish, merely hoping to snare two‑tenths of the Confucian order’s authority for your starving mother. Now that Zhang Fengyue has turned the tables on you, you come begging the Heavenly Master for aid—Zhan Shun, do you think yourself clever?"

"Or do you believe that old hag Huang Liang still possesses the power to bewitch and deceive the Heavenly Master?"

Uponhearing the other party insult Huangliang with such words, Zhan Shun's eyes grew instantly colder.

This heaven and earth also sensed it; the sea surface trembled, and a wave of resentment spread.

“Celestial Master, some words are best weighed before they leave your lips.”

Zhan Shun paused, then asked counter: “Moreover, are you truly bewitched and influenced by Huangliang? As an exalted Heavenly Sovereign of Position and Industry, you need not hide behind such a flimsy excuse.”

“Hmph.”

Zhang Jiji let out a cold snort, yet offered no rebuttal.

“Celestial Master, I know what you are scheming. Nothing more than shutting the door to beat the dog, trying to swallow over half the authority in one fell swoop, to completely dominate the entire Huangliang Nether Sea. It’s a pity that the lone Walker of Sequence Three has a bone too hard; he stubbornly drags your steps, Celestial Master.”

Zhang Jiji said coldly: “You overestimate him. No matter how loudly you boast, he is still merely Sequence Three; killing him poses no difficulty for this Celestial Master.”

“That is certain. However, both of us wish to be the later mantis catching the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind—undoubtedly what Zhang Fengyue most wishes to see. After countless calculations, could we possibly out‑calculate him?”

Zhan Shun did not expose the other, his tone calm: “By now, Zhang Fengyue has clearly seen what we intend. Though his present purpose remains obscure, for us this is no less than another rare, once‑in‑a‑lifetime opportunity.”

Zhang Jiji narrowed his eyes slightly: “If you have something to say, speak plainly; no need to beat around the bush.”

“My meaning is, rather than the two of us quarreling over trifles here, we would do better to set aside our grudges and turn our blades.”

Zhan Shun, word by word: “First, kill him—Zhang Fengyue!”