Devouring Evil Martial Arts, Eliminating Demons from All Heavens

Chapter 393 The Treasure Trove of the Eighth Sense

There are no obvious high mountains or steep ridges in the vicinity of this town.

But the earth also has slopes. There is a river in the area, a tributary of the Yellow River, that flows from west to east.

The water quality is not as turbid as the Yellow River, but the current is not slow either.

As the river undulates, it always stirs up white waves on the rocks on the riverbank and the pillars at the ferry crossing.

Several boats were moored at the ferry crossing, some covered and some uncovered, all of which looked rather rudimentary.

The largest of them could only accommodate seven or eight people.

At the bow and stern of the boat sat four monks, disguised as monks, wearing straw hats and carrying wooden oars, bundles, and other items.

These four individuals all belonged to the "Fa" generation. They diligently practiced and trained at Qingsheng Temple, never daring to slack off. When they went out in the Northern Dynasty, their identities were always revealed, and they were treated with great respect.

He kept a low profile this time, which suggested he was quite unhappy.

Fa Yong sighed at the bow of the ship, "Uncle-Master is really too cautious. This time, the two armies are carrying out their business for too long. Some ignorant fools in the nearby martial arts world may have noticed something was wrong and come to get involved in this mess."

"But things are only just beginning these few days. What's wrong with us going out and stretching our muscles?"

Fa Lai hurriedly said, "Uncle-Master Shengmie is in the cabin."

Fa Yong said indifferently, "Uncle-Master has entered a profound state of meditation. As long as there is no malicious intent, it's no big deal for us to say a few words."

Fa Lai glanced back furtively and said, "It seems we're being a bit too cautious. Even if we need to find a place where we won't be disturbed, we can still perform our rituals discreetly."

“But when those soldiers go to another town to do their work, we should follow them to the vicinity so that we can perform the ritual.”

"We must sever ties with our fellow disciples, but we cannot be too far from our fellow soldiers. Why force ourselves to endure hardship and stay cooped up in this small boat?"

The two men at the stern, Fa Chi and Fa He, exchanged a glance, both with forced smiles, and remained silent.

The four of them were originally selected to join the Sumeru Heavenly Army, and were key figures. However, due to their different responsibilities in the formation and their different biases in the techniques they learned, their temperaments also changed.

The two at the bow of the boat were getting a little impatient.

The two men at the stern, however, had noticed the atmosphere before departure and knew that this was a momentous event that everyone in the temple was watching closely.

Moreover, when Uncle Shengmie refines a treasure, once he has successfully refined one, he must first send someone back to the Northern Dynasty to hand it over, and then have someone else take over to make up the number of four attendants.

Those who were among the first to bring the treasure north were the first among the "Fa" generation to have the opportunity to understand its mysteries.

How could we not seize such a golden opportunity?

Fa Chi and Fa He were completely obedient to the monk Shengmie and devoted themselves wholeheartedly to him.

To be cautious about birth and death, the two madmen secretly took turns administering drugs while traveling with that battalion of soldiers.

After they split up, the drug's effects could remain in the soldiers' bodies for at least seven more days.

If the pawns encounter any major changes within seven days, the Dharma Masters will have a premonition.

This method of surveillance is far more comprehensive than means such as communication devices.

If a powerful enemy were to capture and interrogate the battalion commander, even the commander himself would not know that there were such changes in the effects of the medicine within his body.

Even enlightened beings cannot detect this little trick that is harmless to people but has been lurking in the captive's body for many days.

Qingsheng Temple holds the position of the number one sect in the world. It constantly gathers and researches new techniques, making the strong stronger. It has explored all three paths of the Refining Moon Sect.

This leading position is crucial for future competition and an unshakeable foundation for future generations.

Disciples within the sect often unconsciously experience the superiority of the path they have explored and developed within the sect over the outside world, which makes them even more devoted to the temple.

This also made me realize that the difference between people inside and outside the door is even greater than the difference between people and rats.

"Well?!"

The two men at the stern, their forced smiles suddenly vanished, and their expressions changed drastically.

When the madman realized that the other person's expression had also changed, his own face turned even paler and then blue.

"My other half is completely dead!"

The madman asked urgently, "Your half?"

Fahe's lips trembled: "In the blink of an eye, all sensations were severed."

With just those four monks of the Fa generation, taking down five hundred old soldiers would be a piece of cake.

However, suppressing five hundred people in one move is something they could never achieve.

"Uncle Master!!"

The two immediately lifted the boat curtain.

The cabin was completely black, an unfathomable darkness that instilled a sudden sense of dread.

It seemed that the sunlight outside didn't reach inside at all.

But when a person's gaze falls upon this darkness, the darkness seems to respond, immediately radiating an indescribable, mesmerizing brilliance.

In the blink of an eye.

It seemed as if fifty-two hazy colors and eighty-four crystal outlines, like a dream, all burst forth.

Inside a small cabin, one could witness a spectacular sight: a rainbow spanning the sky, flowers falling from the ceiling, and jewels gushing forth everywhere.

The two, Fa Chi and Fa He, almost forgot what they had been thinking a moment ago.

The two of them grinned blankly, then buried their heads in their hands, ready to plunge into the cabin.

Suddenly, the strange sight disappeared.

Like a shower of flowers, they gathered into a ball of candlelight.

Inside the cabin was only an old monk in his fifties, his withered hands cradling the ball of colorful light, looking over with an unfriendly expression.

The two monks, both eccentric, were startled: "Uncle-Master, that entire battalion of soldiers has suddenly lost all contact with the outside world. It seems that a powerful being has intervened!"

The monk Shengmie's expression changed as he looked at the colorful light in his hand.

"Why panic?!"

"The six sects of the Southern Dynasty, the five sages of the Northern Dynasty, and that newly emerged Yama of Denglai Mountain, are either our accomplices, or they were plotted against by the master, or they dare not disturb us."

"The only one who might come to cause trouble at this time is... Xiao Liang."

The monk Shengmie smiled with a hint of excitement. "The number one swordsman in the world, what a prestigious title."

"Their reputation far surpasses that of the monks of the Sheng generation at our Qingsheng Temple, but the biggest drawback of those who cultivate the external Dharma Pivot lineage is that their cultivation becomes stagnant due to the practice of refining magical treasures."

"The number one swordsman in the world twenty years ago? Haha, that's only because there were very few swordsmen among the Six Sects and Five Saints. Today, this old monk will have a go at him!"

The monk Shengmie took the initiative to step out of the cabin and stand at the bow of the ship, holding a colorful light in one hand and putting the other hand behind his waist. He was confident and composed, displaying the demeanor of a master.

Seeing his imposing presence, the four monks couldn't help but feel admiration for him.

Just moments ago, Fayong was inwardly criticizing, but now he was most respectful: "Uncle-Master, could it be that you have already cultivated the seventh consciousness, Manas?"

"not at all."

The monk Shengmie didn't take it to heart, saying, "I still have the foundation of perfect six senses, but I'm still a little short."

"But only beasts fight each other with strength and claws. The wonder of wisdom is that we don't have to compete purely on our foundations."

As he finished speaking, he sensed a murderous intent approaching from afar.

The wind and rain of the sea bring a desolate feeling.

The four monks of the Dharma generation, seeing how quickly the other party had arrived, looked uneasy. They suddenly realized that even if their uncle abandoned the ship and fled, he would probably not escape the pursuit.

"...Heh, being able to forge iron into swords is already a pretty good skill, but someone who is proficient in using a bow and crossbow can easily kill ten swordsmen if the distance is right."

The monk Shengmie stared into the distance, his breathing becoming somewhat rapid.

"With my current foundation, and this treasure of the realm of knowledge, I can easily fool and play tricks on Xiao Liang, then escape unscathed. Wouldn't I become famous throughout the world in the future?"

Two figures appeared at the edge of the field of vision, approaching with astonishing speed.

two? !
Shengmie was startled and became cautious.

Xiao Liang had already made his move, raising his right hand as he sped away.

When you flick your finger through the air, there is no sonic boom or air burst. Instead, a plump "water droplet" appears on your fingertip.

When the hand reaches its full swing, the water droplet, carrying a wave of air, shoots forward through the hole.

It was Xiao Liang's famous move back then, "Flying Rain Sword Waves"!
The two are about a hundred feet apart.

Only those who have attained enlightenment can maintain the power of their internal energy at such a great distance after it leaves their body, without much loss.

The monk Shengmie merely flickered the ball of colorful light that he was holding in his right hand.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in mid-air in front of the small boat.

It was three zhang (approximately 10 meters) from the boat and three chi (approximately 1.

The man, wearing an iron crown and long robe, looked like a young man. He stretched out his hand and pierced the incoming wave of sword energy.

This finger strike didn't contain much internal force, but the sword intent it used was almost identical to that of the Flying Feather Sword.

The internal energy within the sword wave instantly dissipated, vanishing without a trace. "Hahahaha, brilliant!"

Seeing that this method was indeed very effective, the monk Shengmie was no longer so concerned that there were two people coming, and he laughed loudly.

"Xiao Liang, you were known for your sword intent in your early years. Can you defend against your own sword intent?"

The extra phantom in mid-air was clearly identical to Xiao Liang.

However, the phantom's eyes were upturned at the corners, and its upper eyelids were red, giving it an eerie charm.

Xiao Liang was unruly and didn't bother to smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes, so people rarely realized that he actually had the appearance of a very handsome young man.

And in that illusory figure, even its handsome appearance seemed to have become a way of using sword intent.

"Is this me?"

Xiao Liang paused slightly and glanced heavily in that direction.

Chu Tianshu also looked at it with some surprise. Although the sword intent was 90% similar, the underlying principles were different.

The sword intent emanating from that phantom was clearly a demonic intent.

"Me, transformed into a demon?"

Xiao Liang's figure suddenly appeared, and he said coldly, "What a worthless counterfeit!"

He suddenly flicked his sleeves, the folds on them rolling in the wind until they reached the edges.

The last crease slipped away from the sleeve, disappearing silently like a sword mark.

The essence of the Flying Rain Sword has never been the rain itself, but rather the desolate meaning within the rain.

Moreover, this chill embodies the essence of all twenty-three forms of the Flying Rain Sword.

The phantom in the air pointed out, then suddenly its form scattered like wisps of cloud.

The four monks of the Fa generation felt a chill in their eyes, the world turned completely black, and a sound like a bamboo shoot breaking through their ears.

The entire boat beneath their feet, from bow to stern, had been torn into long strips, each no wider than a carrying pole.

The moment the four monks fell into the water, their eyes turned bloodshot and they felt pain, making them realize that they had gone blind.

If someone is watching the rain from under the eaves and doesn't get wet, does that mean they won't feel the desolation of the world?
The moment you see it, a sense of coolness is already in your eyes.

The colorful light in the hands of the monk Shengmie blocked the chill, and the light deformed and swayed twice like wet dough.

It was at this moment that Chu Tianshu disappeared from Xiao Liang's side.

Suddenly, a phantom image of Chu Tianshu appeared on the right side of the monk Shengmie's body.

The phantom faced to the right, its body shrouded in black mist, its eyes white with no irises, only pinpoint pupils.

As soon as Chu Tianshu appeared here, he saw this thing and felt as if a mirror had revealed another side of himself that he didn't usually show.

"Would I be this weak after being corrupted by demonic energy?"

Chu Tianshu slapped through the phantom's chest and grabbed the monk Shengmie's right wrist.

The monk's right palm immediately separated from his right arm.

The phantom's hands were like knives, and it frantically slashed at him twelve times.

Chu Tianshu remained motionless, with only a tuft of hair broken off.

The phantom froze for a moment, then collapsed with a bang.

Chu Tianshu pulled his hand back from the severed hand, as if he were holding a rice spoon in the back of his hand.

Above the severed hand, that ball of colorful light still lingered.

The monk Shengmie couldn't believe it, but he didn't say a word because Chu Tianshu had his other hand on his neck.

If he doesn't want his head to separate from his neck, remaining still is the golden choice.

Chu Tianshu carried him back to the shore, his gaze involuntarily falling on the ball of colorful light.

"Is this a purely mental entity?"

Chu Tianshu could sense that the outermost layer of painful thoughts must be coming from the people in the town.

But that newly collected intention only serves as a membrane.

It seems to exist solely to contain the internal elements, enabling them to be grasped and utilized.

Xiao Liang also arrived nearby and exclaimed in surprise, "What exactly is inside? Such high-quality demonic energy, yet it has no self-reliant spirit and can be freely combined into other people's phantoms?"

Although the demonic path is adept at change, at the top level, in order to preserve one's sanity, there must be a certain unwavering commitment to oneself.

The demonic intent within this colorful light is of almost equal quality to that of an enlightened being, yet it is as loose and scattered as powder.

It's as if countless demonic forces, refined and distilled over a long period, without a central core, have formed this state.

Chu Tianshu looked at the monk Shengmie.

The monk Shengmie forced himself to remain calm, but couldn't help but utter the message: "I want you two to know that this is the power of the Eighth Consciousness Treasure, which my Qingsheng Temple has discovered through research."

The Eighth Sense Treasure?
Buddhist theories flashed through Chu Tianshu's mind.

According to the practice of indigenous Buddhism, there are five stages from the cow producing milk to the attainment of enlightenment, which correspond to the five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.

After the five senses are perfected, the physical potential and soul are properly coordinated, the five senses are exceptionally sharp, the strength is like that of nine oxen and two tigers, and the endurance is far superior to that of tigers and oxen.

The sixth consciousness is the mind. When you reach this stage, you can entrust your five senses to your mind and use ordinary materials to create magical artifacts.

This is the unique secret of Buddhist weapon crafting.

The seventh consciousness is called Manas, which represents the boundary between self and non-self. Once this stage is achieved, one can begin to understand the connection between the self and the universe, and borrow the power of the universe.

Logically speaking, those who attain enlightenment possess the seventh consciousness, and this state of the seventh consciousness can be practiced almost endlessly.

However, in theory, there is also the eighth consciousness, Alaya-vijnana.

The eighth consciousness no longer represents personal power, but stores information about all the activities and good and evil deeds of all sentient beings.

According to the monk Shengmie, the eighth consciousness may not have existed in this world originally.

Because in the mortal world, there is no medium or carrier that can remain active after recording the information of all living beings.

However, it appeared after the anomaly in the moonlight.

For over a hundred years, only a very small portion of the moonlight that falls between heaven and earth has been utilized by people, animals, and plants.

Those strange rhythms that have settled in this world become an excellent medium.

However, because ordinary people are unaware of the existence of the moonlight essence, the resulting connection is too subtle.

Those who follow the paths of "external Dharma pivot" and "seeking the Tao Shennong" will resist, filter, and neutralize the moonlight.

Therefore, what truly exists in the eighth consciousness, Alaya-vijnana, is currently...

Only the records of the lives of those who practiced demonic cultivation and those who were trained in the human realm are available.

During his spiritual practice, Monk Qingsheng became aware of the existence of the eighth consciousness, but he was unable to draw power directly from it, so he devised a plan.

By using war, demonic cultivators can gather fresh ideas to provide support, and the waves of war will be projected into the eighth consciousness.

The masters of Qingsheng Temple, within the realm of the eighth consciousness, find the corresponding area, move and stir the things that have settled and solidified there, and thus bring them into reality.

In this way, one can create "Relics of the Realm of Consciousness" with exceptional internal quality, which can be directly absorbed by enlightened masters to enhance their power.

"...I know exactly where my master and the others are hiding now, and I also know the locations of the other fellow disciples who came to Heze and Caozhou."

The monk Shengmie repeatedly said, "I can take you to find it."

Chu Tianshu remained silent, simply staring at him.

After a dozen or so breaths, cold sweat gradually seeped onto the back of the monk's neck.

"Do you really know?"

Chu Tianshu slowly said, "In order to prevent us from assassinating the commander, they actually did something like not having a camp at all and splitting up their army."

"If even those who conspired with him in the military have such audacity, would the monk Qingsheng leave such obvious flaws that we could follow the clues?"

The monk Shengmie forced himself to say, "After all, I am a member of Qingsheng Temple, so I am more likely to find fellow disciples than you are."

"Otherwise, even if you are highly skilled, there are only two of you..."

Xiao Liang said, "Who said there are only two of us?"

The monk Shengmie said, "If your retainers were to search separately, it would be fine for a pair of ordinary soldiers, but it would probably be insufficient to find my disciples from Qingsheng Temple."

"You seem to have overlooked my disciple."

Chu Tianshu looked at the ball of colorful light and said, "Don't underestimate my disciples."

The monk Shengmie was stunned for a moment, and even Xiao Liang couldn't help but glance at Chu Tianshu again.

The youths of Pengcheng are, after all, forged through twenty years of trials.

Chu Tianshu's disciples... Seriously?
(End of this chapter)