Chapter 320 — A Family Matter

Shen Mu frowned deeply. Ban Gongcuo, wary of the sorcerous poison Shen Mu had brewed with his own hands, dared not attack and could only withdraw; but the soul-sacrifice sorcery he had unleashed to vent his fury was truly terrifying!

Ban Gongcuo was still only at the Six Harmonies realm, yet even masters of the Seven Stars realm died at a single bow from him — and these three demon monks had been no common figures, strange beasts who had cultivated to no small success. The Golden-Winged Roc was a breed of high renown even in the Wasteland, immensely powerful, with a formidable body; and having cultivated the Buddhist dharma of the Little Thunderclap Temple, their primordial spirits were firm.

He had bowed three Golden-Winged Rocs to death in succession; this divine ability was indeed one that even Zaifu must guard against with all care! In former days Ban Gongcuo had carried himself with a certain magnanimity, every inch the grandmaster; but now, thwarted again and again at Shen Mu's hands, he had grown vicious with humiliation, and struck without the slightest scruple.

This time he had bowed to death three demon monks of the Little Thunderclap Temple; next time, he would likely turn his hand against those close to Shen Mu.

Who could withstand a single bow from him? "But from the look of Ban Gongcuo after bowing those three to death, he seems to have taken grave injury himself.

Clearly this divine ability exacts a heavy backlash and cannot be used at will.

" Shen Mu's brow did not smooth.

However great the backlash, a divine ability that killed whomever it was aimed at was truly hard to counter — impossible to guard against. "Let us bury these three monks.

We cannot leave their bodies exposed in the wild. " The several of them buried the bodies of the three Golden-Winged Rocs.

Shen Mu bowed once and sighed, "Farewell, you three.

One day I shall burn a Ban Gongcuo in offering to your memory. Let us go.

. .

wait!

" The Dragon Qilin halted in haste. Shen Mu closed his eyes; after a moment he opened them, took out brush, ink, paper, and inkstone, roused his vital essence, and spread the paper out neatly in midair.

He lifted the brush, stirred the ink, and painted in the empty air; before long the image of a god-devil standing upon an altar took shape beneath his brush.

Shen Mu was about to lay down the final stroke, but stopped, took out his seal and stamped it upon the painting, and only then completed the last stroke. "The key to Ban Gongcuo's soul-sacrifice sorcery must lie in this god-devil. " He looked it over from top to bottom, confirming he had made no error. Kui Sou had taught him calligraphy and painting, and in painting he laid great stress on seizing form, intent, and spirit in a single instant; Shen Mu had often gone out of the village with him to sketch from life, drawing all manner of things.

Though the god-devil behind Ban Gongcuo had appeared only briefly, he had still caught its exact shape and spirit and painted it true. "I do not know this god-devil, but the Wasteland holds statues of every kind of god and devil; the village headman and Master Huo are men of wide experience and will most likely recognize it. Since we have come into the Wasteland, we may as well go back to the village and ask them. And even if they do not know it, there is still the Heaven Sacred Cult and the Jingping Kingdom — someone somewhere will recognize it!

" Shen Mu put the painting away and thought, "If only I can identify this god-devil, there will be a chance of breaking Ban Gongcuo's sorcery! Otherwise the only road left is to destroy him at any cost.

" At any cost — which meant taking the Golden Palace of Loulan; and to take a holy ground like the Golden Palace of Loulan, one would first have to conquer the steppe and annihilate the nations upon it. One could well imagine how difficult that would be.

So that last road could only be, in the last extremity, to urge the emperor to send his armies against the steppe and raze the Golden Palace of Loulan; the Heaven Sacred Cult alone had no such power.

The Dragon Qilin walked on. Shen Mu called the two white bats to him and healed their wounds; when their injuries had mended, and under the two white bats' guard, Shen Mu soared into the high air to survey the lie of the land.

After a moment he descended, frowning slightly: he had not seen the Yong River. Had he seen the Yong River, he could have fixed his position; without it, the marks on the Wasteland's geographical chart alone made it very hard to determine exactly where they stood.

They traveled a hundred-odd li eastward, and Shen Mu flew up again, continuing to study the terrain and compare it with the Wasteland chart in his memory.

So it went, again and again, until at last, by the run of the mountains and rivers, he made out their position. "We are near the Western Heaven Palace, and indeed not far from the Western Land.

" Having determined their direction, Shen Mu breathed a sigh of relief, descended, and told the Dragon Qilin the route. They went another hundred-odd li east; Shen Mu judged they were near the Western Heaven Palace marked on the Wasteland chart, and was looking about when he suddenly saw the road grow steep.

A vast expanse of land thrust slantwise into the Wasteland like an enormous disc, rising far higher than the peaks beside it, as though this land had flown in from beyond the heavens and plunged into the Wasteland!

The Dragon Qilin halted.

Shen Mu looked toward that vast land: the jungle there was dense, yet through the green shade he could still make out the ruins of grand buildings. And where the ground was cracked, a metallic gleam showed through: deep beneath this land were buried things made of metal, though what they were he could not tell. There were also towering statues of gods, some standing, some fallen.

It took them some time to skirt this land, and then they were struck dumb: before them lay a basin strewn everywhere with slabs of land, some thrust into the ground, some overturned to reveal mountain-shaped undersides, some split into several pieces; on some slabs whole ruins were preserved, the ruins of cities, with strange beasts moving among them, and from time to time a powerful beast lord let out a heart-stopping roar, threatening any creature that dared approach its domain. Where these slabs of land had broken apart, long metal structures were exposed, uneven in height like the pipes of a sheng.

When wind passed through the basin, these metal structures gave off a humming, like music, and it was unexpectedly pleasant to hear. "How could so great a civilization have fallen to such a state?

" Shen Mu gazed into the distance, then drew back his eyes. This must be a stable region, hard for the darkness to invade, and so the number of strange beasts was enormous; one must walk in such a place with the greatest care.

To go around would likely cost them an extra day, so they could only press on.

Shen Mu jumped down from the Dragon Qilin's back and took the lead himself. He had, after all, lived in the Wasteland since childhood and knew the habits of strange beasts well; if the Dragon Qilin or the two white bats led the way, they would surely stir up some trouble. They went deeper into the basin, and suddenly Shen Mu frowned at the wheel tracks on the ground. The tracks must have been left by that treasure carriage of the True Heaven Palace of the Western Land, and there were also some jumbled footprints, surely left by the divine-ability wielders pursuing the carriage. They had clearly blundered in here, but judging by the path they took, these people also knew the rules of the Wasteland well and had not gone astray. Yet the divine abilities of the True Heaven Palace of the Western Land were quite peculiar, their scale and commotion alarming; if they came to blows here, they would easily enrage the beast lords.

"To take the same road as them — I fear we would be dragged in.