Chapter 212 — The Inevitable Parting

The writing in this volume was sparse, and when Shen Mu had given the text a rough reading, a host of principles concerning the cultivation of the soul welled up in his mind. The Demon King of Dutian had told him that the book held sorcery from Youdu—evidently this, too, had been a lie dangled before him to bait him into a trap.

"When I speak, at least one sentence in ten is true," Shen Mu reflected.

"When the Demon King of Dutian speaks, only one sentence in a hundred is true. " And he thought to himself: "Of everything he told me, only that business about the language of Youdu was genuine—all the rest was false!

" Upon careful reflection, he found that if he could fully absorb the subtleties of the written characters, he could indeed glean some soul-related arts. Yet what mattered more about the writing in this volume was that it strengthened the soul; soul arts were only of secondary importance.

Shen Mu committed the words to memory, closed the volume, and sat in deep thought, pondering the mysteries of the text in an attempt to comprehend a soul art. The Great Nurturing Nether-Demon Sutra contained arts of the soul, and so did the great shaman of the Mandi Kingdom; the Eight Thunder Roar Arts Master Huo had transmitted to him, and the Great Perfection Seal of the demon race, all had wondrous techniques aimed at the soul. The Soul-Pulling Art of the Nine Nethers Sect was the most outstanding divine ability among them.

If he could corroborate all these against the words of this volume, their power could be made even greater! Shen Mu meditated for a long while, then gradually began to pace the courtyard, gesturing as he walked—he was attempting to fuse the principles of the Youdu script into the move Sunlight Refines the Yang Spirit in the Void.

This move was one of the Eight Thunder Roar Arts, the supreme combat technique of the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra; its power was hard and fierce to the extreme, and generation after generation of Tathagatas had already refined it to the limit, leaving almost no room for improvement. Yet Shen Mu was now improving it. He had never trained in the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra, but ever since he had merged the Great Nurturing Nether-Demon Sutra with the Mystic Body Three-Dan Art and unified his cultivation into a whole, the might of the Eight Thunder Roar Arts had grown ever greater, in no way inferior to the Thunder Roar Mahayana Sutra.

He rehearsed the move again and again, punching out again and again.

The root of the fist was the heart-seal, and the heart-seal was the great sun; every punch sent thunder rolling and a blazing sun burning fierce, refining the yang spirit, its power rising by degrees.

This move had no effect on the physical body; for all its tremendous clamor, it attacked only the soul. As Shen Mu rehearsed, a wisp of fiery essence gradually emerged from his fist-seals—a flame unlike ordinary fire, the karmic fire that burns the soul.

Each of his punches carried karmic fire, and gradually the fire grew thicker and more turbulent, coiling around his fist into a round crimson sun. The smoother his practice became, the more he could not help crying out with long howls; then suddenly a punch flew, and a great sun exploded in midair, rolling flames spreading in every direction until karmic fire flooded the whole courtyard. "Sword Hall, why such haste?

" Shen Mu invited him in and asked. "Heavenly King Lu is wounded. " Shen Mu's heart lurched, and he went with the man to his courtyard.

"Cult Master, this old man is ashamed. I have come bearing wounds to see you, but they are too heavy for me to perform the rites of greeting.

" Heavenly King Lu lay on the bed, struggling to rise yet unable to, and spoke shamefacedly. Shen Mu waved his hand, stepped forward to examine the wounds, and frowned slightly.

The old man's clothes were tattered, and his white hair and beard were flecked with blood. Heavenly King Lu's injuries were even more severe than those the Imperial Preceptor Jingping had suffered; he must have exchanged blows with several powerhouses of sect-leader level before being struck down!

His wounds were not merely physical—his divine treasuries had been hurt, and the damage to his soul was graver still! All seven divine treasuries had suffered nearly catastrophic blows: the Spirit Embryo had petrified, three of the Five Elemental Spirits had been destroyed, only two pillar-spirits remained in the Six Directions Divine Treasury, the Seven-Star, Heaven-Human, and Life-Death Treasuries were all in disorder and decay, and the flying bridge within the Divine Bridge Treasury had snapped.

If these were the only wounds, it would not matter; but the crux was that he was old, his body far weaker than in former days, and his flesh could scarcely contain a soul on the verge of scattering. Heavenly King Lu drew a long breath and said, "Cult Master, I have found out where Heavenly King Qian is.

.

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" "Say nothing for now.

" Shen Mu frowned. "Who set an ambush for you?

" "They never showed their faces, but I recognized their arts. " Heavenly King Lu's body convulsed—the wounds of his soul were bursting forth, causing him agony.

He gritted his teeth and bore it, his white hair shaking along with his frame, and chuckled grimly: "What they were after was the art of teleportation of our Holy Cult. .

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Cult Master, I can no longer support you. I have failed to live up to the Patriarch's instructions—" "Be at ease. You will not die, nor will you be maimed. " The corners of Shen Mu's eyes twitched, and he said in a deep voice: "Even if you die, I will drag your soul back out of Youdu!

" "One of those who wounded me was a first-rank minister of the imperial court! " Heavenly King Lu's body quieted again: "I know the art he used—it is the Numinous Treasure Immovable Meditation Art.

Among the first-rank ministers, Sun Nantuo, the Grand Preceptor of the Crown Prince, has brought this art to the pinnacle of perfection.

Seated within a jeweled pagoda hung with a thousand banners, he is a numinous treasure that never moves.

" Shen Mu's hands flew out with lightning speed, fingers leaping and tracing trails of afterimages through the air as he tapped across Heavenly King Lu's body; in the space of an instant he sealed Lu's soul within his flesh and kept it from leaving.

What he used was the Heavenly Demon Art of Creation—an art employed by the masters of the Youmo Cult to flay skin and fashion garments, yet in his hands it became a means of saving life.

He had sealed away Heavenly King Lu's three souls and seven spirits, but even so he could scarcely hold back the collapse of the old man's soul. "Cult Master, you are a divine physician, yet even a divine physician cannot save a man doomed to die. " A smile crossed Heavenly King Lu's face. Trembling, he got off the bed and sat down in front of the hall; a ruddy sheen spread over his face, and he smiled: "Do not waste your strength.

My soul is about to scatter, and the divine bridge is broken—I cannot hold on.

I had thought that after the Patriarch left, I could assist you, Cult Master, in reviving the Holy Cult and restoring it to glory.

I never expected I would not live to see that day.

" A rumbling, collapsing sound came from within him—the Divine Bridge Treasury, robbed of the support of its bridge, had begun to cave in. The collapsed Divine Bridge Treasury crushed the Life-Death Treasury, then the Heaven-Human Treasury, one divine treasury after another falling into ruin. Fierce flames blazed up around Heavenly King Lu's body, and his soul was splitting apart—an irreversible tearing.

His physical wounds were already grave, but the wounds of his soul were graver still; he was on the very brink of utter dissipation. If his soul scattered, he could not enter Youdu; once his soul dispersed, he could not even become a ghost. "Blazing holy fire, consume this ruined frame.

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