Chapter 116 — Kunlun's Retaliation (Part 3)

Though the six-armed golden Buddha was woven from cloud, it was strangely and sturdily solid; the ninefold heaven's astral winds, fierce enough to grind steel to dust, swept over it and it did not so much as quiver. The instant the golden Buddha appeared, the astral winds for several li around showed a marked tendency to abate.

"Is that tantric Dharma King playing such a joke on us?" Yun Xiuzi stepped forward and gazed at the giant six-armed Buddha wrought of gilt-colored cloud, his voice grave.

Here in the high heavens the ninefold astral winds tore and scoured, withering all things; even a cultivator of deep attainment would never appear in such a place. If one must travel by flight, one descends below the cloud layer—who would burn vast quantities of true essence to ride the astral winds head-on?

Zhou Xuan and Yun Xiuzi had done so only to slip past the eyes and ears of the Kunlun Sect. This was the Western Regions, domain of both the Kunlun Sect and Tibetan tantric Buddhism; drawing the notice of either would be a monstrous nuisance. The two had flown the whole way at ease, encountering not a single cultivator. Now so conspicuous a spectacle had sprung up out of nowhere—unless it had come expressly to make trouble for the two of them, Zhou Xuan would sooner have died than believe it. Yet he was far from familiar with Tibetan tantric Buddhism, and so could only let Yun Xiuzi scout the situation.

That these tantric Buddhists could slip past his own divine-sense spirit art meant they must be formidable indeed—at the very least, figures of a cultivation equivalent to the Fanxu realm. Still, Zhou Xuan did not know whether Buddhists graded their strength the same way Daoists did.

"Could it be that we passed through their territory without paying our respects at the gate, and they've come to make trouble?" Zhou Xun let his mind wander in uncharitable speculation, while secretly keeping a tight guard; his Heaven's Eye opened wide, sweeping in all directions. Dimly he made out four or five powerful surges of dharma power not far ahead, the auras they gave off faintly resembling that of his own golden-body dharma aspect. "This Eight-Nine Mystic Art was learned from that strange Dharma wheel in the first place, so it must be some secret transmission of Buddhism as well—no wonder the auras are alike."

He at once banished his idle fancies and raised his divine-sense thought-power to its peak; at the Ni Gong acupoint between his brows a faint white light glittered—the very sign of the Heaven's Eye opened to its full power. So many tantric masters braving the ninefold astral winds to lie in ambush for him—Zhou Xuan simply could not fathom it. When had he ever offended the Buddhists?

Scarce had Yun Xiuzi's words fallen than the giant six-armed Buddha blazed with radiance, its golden light piercing the eye; the formless astral winds vanished clean away. The golden light flashed and was gone, and beside the six-armed golden Buddha stood four uncanny lamas in red robes. These four red-robed lamas had long snow-white eyebrows that nearly trailed down onto their bulging eye-bags—a comical sight—and every one wore the look of dotage, guttering like candles in the wind, as though one careless breath would send them into nirvana. But Zhou Xuan had already opened his Heaven's Eye and would not be deceived by outward appearances: beneath the skin of these four old red-robed lamas a pale golden radiance faintly shone outward from within. Any other cultivator would have taken that golden glow for the sun's reflection; only Zhou Xuan knew that this pale golden light issued from within the old lamas' bodies—clear proof that they had well-nigh perfected the golden body of an Arhat.

"Dharma King Great Compassion!"

"Dharma King Great Sun!"

"Dharma King Great Mercy!"

"Dharma King Great Maitreya!"

Each of the four old lamas spoke his name, and the rolling waves of sound boomed back and forth through the space above the cloud layer. With the astral winds no longer tearing at them, Zhou Li withdrew the protection of the Two Prime Formation to save true essence; the six-armed golden Buddha wrought of cloud possessed the power to still the wind, and these four Dharma Kings, borrowing the Buddha image's strength to lie hidden in the ninefold astral winds, had reaped no small advantage. Those who came were not well-intentioned, and Zhou Xuan did not believe for a moment they meant him any kindness. He now poured all his effort into restoring the true essence spent within his body—though in truth he had spent almost nothing, it seemed safer now to bring himself to peak condition.

"So you are the Four Great Dharma Kings, guardians of the faith in the tantric Yellow Sect. Why do you block our path? Can it be that even monks of such eminence as the Four Dharma Kings have taken up the notion of highway robbery?" Yun Xiuzi plainly knew the names of these four old lamas; the moment they announced themselves, he named their origin. Since they had halted the two of them for no reason at all, he answered with mockery—the other party was foe now, not friend; fair words would not necessarily spare one their harassment. And besides, though Buddhist and Daoist alike styled themselves the orthodox path, since ancient times each had looked down on the other.

Buddhism may be broadly divided into three great schools: Chan, Tantra, and Exoteric. Since ancient times the three had been at odds. From the time Patriarch Bodhidharma entered the Central Plains under Emperor Wu of Liang and abandoned the struggle in the Western Regions, the Chan school took root and spread through the Central Plains until its roots grew deep and firm; the Exoteric and Tantric schools held fast to the West. After several later conflicts the Exoteric school declined, and in the Western Regions the Tantric school stood alone in power—yet within Tantra there were further divisions, each setting up its own sect. The mightiest branch was the tantric Yellow Sect that ruled from the Potala Palace, headed by the Living Buddha; in the Western Regions it was king of the mountain, its power so great that even the Kunlun Sect, foremost of the Daoist gates, regarded it with a measure of caution. These four old lamas were precisely the Four Great Dharma Kings, guardians of the faith within the Potala Palace; each was said to be the reincarnation of an Arhat or Bodhisattva, of unfathomable cultivation, and their standing within Tantra was so lofty and transcendent that it ranked even above the Living Buddha.

"Amitabha!" The lama who called himself Dharma King Great Compassion stepped forward and chanted a single Buddha's name, paying not the slightest heed to Yun Xiuzi's faint mockery. "This one is a disciple of the Great Freedom Palace, is he not? This old monk comes today on a grave matter of my tantric school, and it has nothing to do with the Great Freedom Palace. We of the tantric Yellow Sect and the Great Freedom Palace have ever kept friendly dealings—I beg you not to interfere." This Dharma King Great Compassion knew Yun Xiuzi's sect, and his words seemed to show considerable scruple regarding Yun Xiuzi's identity.

"Oh! If the old lama's business has nothing to do with the Great Freedom Palace, and yet you block our path, then it seems you have come for me!" Zhou Xuan stepped forward and shielded Yun Xiuzi behind him. Immortal Yun Xiuzi's cultivation was still weak, far from a match for any one of these lamas; by the Daoist measure of strength, the Four Dharma Kings had all entered the Fanxu realm, and since they were near to perfecting the Arhat's golden body, theirs too were deathless frames. From the exchange between Yun Xia and Dharma King Great Compassion, it seemed the other side had indeed come for him—and naturally he could not let Yun Xia step forward.