Chapter 379 — Punishing on Heaven's Behalf

The rain of blood was not heavy, nor did it cover a wide stretch of land; it fell precisely upon the mountain slope where they stood. Shen Mu watched the trees and grasses of that forest grow with terrifying speed, the trees tall and lush, the spiritual energy that hung about them so thick it seemed on the verge of condensing into substance, drifting in ribbons and streamers around the great trunks. Among the flowers and grasses a milky white mist spread, and they turned unnaturally vivid and tender green.

And after so long a rain, the lakes, ditches, and rivers were all brimming; now in those lakes and rivers countless fish grew madly, becoming like the fish-monsters of the Wasteland, several zhang in length.

Some fish had grown legs and feet, and hopped up onto the banks to open their mouths, mouths full of sharp teeth, catching the pattering blood rain from the sky. Some auspicious beasts of the mountains swelled in body, and bone spurs burst out of them, branching and forking, a frightful sight. And the mermaids in the lake had grown enormous too, their once-beautiful faces turned strange and monstrous. There was too much energy in the divine blood; it easily made living things grow into deformed monsters, and such growth was uncontrolled, whatever the blood rain touched first growing first, and often growing far larger than the rest.

Plants and insects had life as well, and were rained upon by the blood, making this mountain slope like another Wasteland.

In Shen Mu's view, it was the mighty qi of yin and yang, the qi of the Four Symbols, the qi of the Five Elements within the divine blood that had upset the balance inside these living things and so produced the mutations, which still differed from the Wasteland.

The strange beasts of the Wasteland mostly carried the bloodlines of gods and demons; that was inheritance. But the strange beasts on this mountain slope had mostly absorbed the mighty power in the divine blood and mutated.

"Which god has fallen?

Is it that Dragon-Rearing Lord? " Mu Qingdai said softly.

Outside the great hall, multicolored radiance and white mist covered the hills and fields, dressing the place like a holy land; but if they walked into the blood rain, they too would likely mutate as the life of these mountains had. Yet if one did not take the blood rain directly, one could cultivate here, drawing in the mighty divine power; for one who commands divine abilities, this was surely a holy land for cultivation.

Judged purely by spiritual and divine power, even the three great holy lands of Jingping would be far inferior to this place; after all, neither the Nether Demon Sect, nor the Daoist sects, nor the Great Tingming Temple could slay a god to nourish their own holy land.

"The old woman originally lived in this backwater, meaning to trap Fan Xuanshu with her own body. She surely never imagined this place would become a holy land for cultivation?

" Shen Mu's expression was odd. With the Wuyou Sword he carefully caught a drop of divine blood, examined it, and shook his head: "This is not the Dragon-Rearing Lord's blood.

The Dragon-Rearing Lord's blood is dragon blood; the divine power in this blood is not that of dragon blood. . .

" His expression suddenly turned strange: "This kind of divine blood, I have seen before. " Shen Mu flicked his sword; the drop of divine blood on the blade ran down to the tip.

He turned his wrist, working the sword, and the drop of blood flowed endlessly along the blade, yet never slid off. Suddenly the energy within the sword burst forth, and the might of that drop of divine blood was roused as well, like a divine ability exploding; the surging energy collided with the force of Shen Mu's stroke and drove him staggering backward again and again. Shen Mu nodded and said gravely: "This kind of divine blood, I have indeed seen.

More than a year ago, when that snow disaster stopped so abruptly, it was because the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping had found the god who loosed the snow disaster and fought a great battle with him.

He was gravely wounded by that god, and that god too was wounded and bled. I treated the Imperial Preceptor's wounds, and I saw that god's blood; the energy in it is very like this drop.

" At the time, Shen Mu had used a sword pellet given him by the Silent Artisan as a bridge, linking the remnant divine ability and divine blood within the Imperial Preceptor's body, rousing the power of both so that they annihilated each other and eased the Imperial Preceptor's injuries; only then could he treat him. But that sword pellet had been worn down by this energy and shrunk greatly.

The sword pellet was what the Silent Artisan had given him to deal with the village headman, and also to let him comprehend loftier arts of refining treasures; Shen Mu had mourned its loss for a while. That time was deeply impressed on Shen Mu's memory, for Emperor Yanfeng had also been besieged by the old Daoist Master and the old Tathagata and nearly died, and he too had stepped in to heal him. At that time both the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping and Emperor Yanfeng had been reduced to cripples, utterly wretched; the Imperial Preceptor had taken his wife into hiding in a small valley, and his wife was with child. "The god slain by the Sun-Shooting Divine Cannon, that is the very god who brought the snow disaster!

" Shen Mu's eyes flickered bright and dim, and he said softly: "That too is retribution; he died as he deserved. In the snow disaster, those who suffered were all poor folk. Jingping's population fell by twenty or thirty percent at once; more died than in any of the wars.

" The three from Little Yujing said nothing. When the snow disaster broke out, the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping had gone to Little Yujing; the Qingyou Hermit had urged him and his wife to stay, wanting to keep them in Little Yujing and halt the reforms.

The immortals of Little Yujing believed that the reforms of the Imperial Preceptor and Emperor Yanfeng were the root cause of the snow disaster, and that the only way to avert it was to stop the reforms. Wang Muran and the others had heard something of this.

The Imperial Preceptor of Jingping had been despondent for some days, but in the end he left Little Yujing. Not long after, the snow disaster stopped, and the Qingyou Hermit, frowning, told them that the Imperial Preceptor was resolved on reform after all.

At the time, neither the Imperial Preceptor nor the immortals of Little Yujing had foreseen that matters would come to this pass; no one had foreseen that a god would fall, and that it would be the very god who had loosed the disaster.

What changes the slaying of this god by the Sun-Shooting Divine Cannon would bring to Jingping, no one could say, no one could foresee. Shen Mu washed the Heavenly Emperor's jade tablet with clear water a dozen times over, and still did not dare hold it in his bare hand; he mixed several kinds of medicine and washed and boiled it again, and only then put it away, still hanging it at his neck. Outside, the blood rain gradually stopped, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed, and the day brightened.

Shen Mu and the others walked out of the great hall, their bodies floating, avoiding the bloody water on the ground.

Outside, the sky was clear, cloudless for ten thousand li; the divine battle above Jingping seemed a dream, as though it had never happened. Sunlight spilled down from the west; the azure sky was washed clean, wonderfully transparent, and the air seemed fresher too. They stood in the air, looking around, when suddenly Shen Mu gazed north; there, a colossal thing floated in the sky, sailing toward them. That was the platform of the Sun-Shooting Divine Cannon, and it was actually afloat in the air, hurrying this way.

Emperor Yanfeng and the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping stood on the floating platform, robes flapping; many officials of Jingping stood on the platform as well.