The Buddha is actually me

Chapter 663: The Painting Saint's Last Works, Eternal Night on Earth

clap clap!

Following the sounds of two slaps, faint lights began to gradually appear in the dark tunnel, and then the lights gathered together to illuminate the surrounding walls.

Everyone entered and saw a magical scene.

The faint light was not from candles or fireflies, but from wisps of array patterns that seemed to be written in chalcedony. They looked like tadpoles, swimming slowly on the wall like spirits and ghosts.

"This is actually the earth dragon marrow!"

Master Yimei's pupils dilated, and he was surprised by such a generous gesture.

The earth dragon is an earthworm. If it becomes a spirit after becoming a climatic entity, it will like to eat minerals deep in the earth and will transform the energy of Gengjin into a kind of chalcedony, also known as earth dragon marrow.

This item is extremely rare and is the best material for drawing talismans and setting up formations, especially some formations involving earth veins. It is extremely effective and can exert the strongest power.

Earth dragons rarely become spirits, and even if they do become spirits, the amount of earth dragon marrow they transform into is limited. A mountain of mineral deposits can often only yield a fingernail-sized amount of earth dragon marrow.

And at a quick glance, every array pattern is written with earth dragon marrow, connecting the power of the earth veins of the entire capital city.

The unprecedented formation set up by Zhuge Qixing is still refreshing everyone's cognition.

This is still what they can see, there are many details of the formation that even they cannot perceive.

The title of the greatest formation master of all time is indeed well-deserved.

Passing through the Chalcedony Corridor, everyone arrived at the second floor of Qianling Mausoleum, which was an extremely empty parade ground. However, there were no real soldiers here, but clay sculptures of terracotta warriors and horses.

There were so many of them, it seemed like there were millions of them.

The moment everyone stepped in here, the heads of the densely packed terracotta warriors and horses turned in unison.

Countless pairs of clay eyes stared at everyone quietly, bringing a suffocating sense of oppression.

It seemed as if these motionless clay figures would turn into thousands of troops and charge forward in the next moment.

As a soldier, Yue Ling felt as if he was on an ancient battlefield covered with blood and bones, and he seemed to hear endless fighting in his ears.

"When Emperor Taizu was alive, he had an iron army that followed him in his battles, killing countless enemies. It was called the Black Armor Army."

The emperor took the initiative to explain: "Later, due to years of fighting, the number of this iron army became smaller and smaller, until the last soldier died in battle, and the Black Armor Army disappeared completely."

"These clay sculptures are the Black Armor Army of those years. Each of them made a vow before they died, vowing to continue to follow Emperor Taizu after his death and become heroic spirits to guard the imperial mausoleum."

“So these clay sculptures contain their ashes.”

Zhang Jiuyang looked at those silent "soldiers". Their ashes were sealed in clay sculptures. In such a dark place like a mausoleum, it was easy for the dead souls to turn into evil spirits and breed hatred and dissatisfaction.

But he did not sense any hostility in these soldiers, only a strong desire to fight.

This shows that the emperor did not lie. Every one of them stayed here voluntarily and had no complaints.

At this moment, Zhang Jiuyang became even more curious about Emperor Taizu.

How great must a person's personal charm be for so many people to follow him both during his lifetime and after his death?

He had only had a brief meeting with Emperor Taizu before and thought he had some understanding of the situation, but now he suddenly felt that what he had seen was only the tip of the iceberg.

The emperor held high the dragon-shaped seal in his hand and walked forward slowly.

The Terracotta Warriors trembled and made way for a passage.

Everyone followed closely and entered the third underground level of Qianling Mausoleum.

There are many tombs here, interconnected in all directions, and there is some kind of formation that interferes with spiritual perception, making it very easy to get lost.

It is worth mentioning that among the various tombs, some do contain priceless treasures, but some are filled with murderous intent.

The virtual and the real are hard to guard against.

However, Zhang Jiuyang discovered that the traps in the tombs were probably secondary. These tombs themselves were the base of some kind of formation. However, when the formation was not activated, he could not tell what their use was.

The emperor was obviously familiar with this place, and he led them through these intricate tombs and entered the fourth floor. This place was empty, like a naturally formed cave, with ancient lamps burning all around, and the lamp oil was all precious whale oil, which smelled like sea waves when burning.

Zhang Jiuyang frowned and looked around carefully, but found nothing unusual.

But the absence of abnormalities is the biggest abnormality.

You know, Qianling Mausoleum has only six floors in total, and the fourth floor is close to the core. The first three floors are heavily protected, so it is impossible that the fourth floor has nothing.

The strangest thing is that there is no entrance further down here.

"arrive."

The emperor stopped and looked at a dark stone wall, his eyes moving and his voice rising slightly.

"This is the painting saint's legacy."

The last work of the painting saint?

Everyone's heart moved, and they looked towards the stone wall.

The emperor previously praised this painting to the sky, saying that it contained the secret to becoming an immortal, and that all the successive leaders of Daqian were able to reach the seventh level of cultivation because of their comprehension of this painting.

Their curiosity had already been aroused.

But unexpectedly, when people actually saw this legendary work of the painting saint, they were disappointed and even confused.

The stone wall was pitch black everywhere, as if it had been soaked in ink for thousands of years. Not to mention the paintings, even the cracks on the stone wall could not be seen clearly if you did not look carefully.

“Can this be called a painting?”

"Your Majesty, isn't this just like...spilling ink on stone?"

"The last work of the painting saint... this shouldn't be the case!"

All the real people were talking about it and frowning.

Most of them have rich experience and have learned the art of painting in their long lives. They are confident that even if they are not masters, they are at least outstanding in this field.

But in this so-called last work of the painting saint, there is no trace of the magic of brushwork.

Only Zhang Jiuyang stared at the painting in a trance, as if he had noticed something.

"Is it the painting saint's last work?"

Yue Ling asked quietly.

Zhang Jiuyang pondered for a moment, then nodded and said, "It should be, but the style of this painting is very different from the previous paintings of the painting saint. The brushwork is sloppy, and he is frustrated and forgetful. It's as if he was in a state of loss of soul when he painted this picture."

"even……"

Zhang Jiuyang looked deeply at the painting and said, "From this painting, I can sense his intention to die."

As the descendant of the Saint of Painting, and having learned the Saint's ways through the murals in Baiyun Temple, Zhang Jiuyang considers himself to be the person who knows the Saint of Painting best in the world.

The paintings of the painting saint have always been wild and imaginative, unconventional, yet both form and meaning. His brush and ink are as fast as dragons and snakes, full of vigor and vitality, as if they have the breadth of mind and bearing to swallow the world.

But in this painting, all these things were gone. What he felt was coldness, numbness, loneliness and a deep sense of death.

If nothing unexpected happened, the Saint of Painting would have died after completing this work.

"It's normal that you can't see clearly."

The emperor looked at the painting, sighed, and said, "This painting is called "Eternal Night". It is said that in ancient times there was a great war that shook the world. Even the sun fell, and the world fell into eternal night. Countless lives will disappear."

"This painting depicts the eternal night on earth that happened more than 6,000 years ago."

……

(End of this chapter)