Invasion Myth: Starting with the Schoolteacher

Chapter 601 The Death of the Master
Two fiery demonic forces, entangled and obsessed, yet utterly lawless.

Two streams of righteous spirit and heroic passion, a murderous aura soaring to the sky, and boundless unbridled power.

"The cold blade is drawn from its sheath, piercing the sky; a single sword can traverse ten thousand miles of mountains and rivers. Indifferent to worldly affairs of life and death, one roams freely across heaven and earth with ease."

"Vanguard officer Li Yingqi has arrived."

What a pioneer of Taihu Lake! Even when reciting the poem, he was the first to speak, stealing the spotlight from his master.

Xiaoqing sneered upon hearing this, "Foolish disciple, this time your master also hired a substitute player."

"Slay all demons and wipe out the enemy, and the swordsmen of Mount Shu will rise again across the land; cleanse the world and rebuild the mountains and rivers, and let the heroes of the four seas sing together!"

"The Guardian Hall, Master Qing has arrived!!!"

Li Yingqi was shocked. "Master, you! What incredible cunning!"
Alright, business is more important. Since we're evenly matched in poetry, let's see how my disciple's swordsmanship goes.

The sharp sword energy, carrying an invincible force, blasted out.

As the sword light swept across, four streams of light separated hundreds of people, evaporating mountains, blood pools, poisonous sand, magical artifacts, and all attempts to resist.

"Cultivators from the Central Plains?" an old monk exclaimed in surprise.

His voice was hoarse, like two bones rubbing against each other, and you could tell he didn't understand.

After all, the Venerable One had recently destroyed the legendary Shu Mountain Sect and mobilized a large force to besiege and kill the remnants of Shu Mountain.

Everyone dreamed of invading Sichuan from the southeast and spreading the glory of the Demonic Sect to the people of the Nine Provinces, but today they have been attacked instead!
A sudden feeling of unease welled up inside me.

Suddenly, the prayer beads in his hand scattered, revealing eighteen skulls floating in the air, spewing out ghastly green poisonous sand and demonic fire. Countless distorted human faces emerged from the flames, emitting mournful howls and exuding terrifying ferocity.

He himself fled in the opposite direction to the poisonous sand pool in the back mountain, where there was a secret passage for evacuation.

The advance and retreat highlight the wisdom of the demonic path and the reason why he can live like an old monk.

The enemy is fierce at this moment; only by holding out until the Venerable One returns can we have a chance of victory.

He was then cut into five pieces by four sword beams.

"Looks old, must be from a legendary sect. If we don't kill you, who will we kill?"

Unfortunately, Xiaoqing was more intelligent than him.

What followed was a merciless massacre.

If it were Master Mao, he would speak of the virtue of cherishing life; if it were Yan Chixia, he would only punish the ringleaders. But Xu Xuan sent these two to nip the problem in the bud, and they did it exceptionally well.

Besides swordsmanship, he also possesses numerous magical treasures and artifacts, making his overall firepower configuration absolutely overflowing.

After the killing, the next step was looting. After destructive excavation, everything of value was collected into magical artifacts.

The Demonic Sect has been draining the highlands for hundreds of years, accumulating countless riches and an absurd number of treasures. This wave of gains far exceeds the total gains of Baoan Hall over the years.

The lack of circulation of wealth meant that the spoils from confiscating property in ancient times were always considerable.

The master and apprentice happily prepared to leave.

"Master, we haven't finished the finishing touches yet."

Xiaoqing suggested a simplified procedure this time, and with a burst of Doushuai Fire, the earth was instantly covered.

The excessive levels of grease in the soil were instantly ignited, because it also contained excessive amounts of harmful substances.

The enormous demonic gate was covered in purple flames. This fire was estimated to burn for seven days and seven nights before it was completely extinguished, given the sheer amount of flammable material.

The legend of divine fire falling from the sky had already spread on the way back.

The first reaction of the holy kings was not joy, but horror, if it were truly sinful.
They immediately went to the temple to make donations and pray for blessings, hoping for the Buddha's protection, and also to urge the monks who usually enjoy incense offerings to contribute.

After all, if such an outsider is so unscrupulous, wouldn't it bring a calamity if some ignorant descendant were to offend him?

However, since he was a high-ranking monk, he naturally understood how terrifying the power that could destroy the demonic sect was.

Apart from a few idiots who went, everyone else remained on the sidelines.

Wealth can be tempting, but it can also take lives.

"Central Plains cultivators, you..."

The fools gathered a group of people and blocked the path home of the evil master and his disciples. Their words implied that outsiders couldn't deal with the sects of the highlands; at the very least, they had to leave their wealth and treasures behind before they could leave.

They will aton for their sins by offering these treasures and then return them to heaven and earth.

The master and apprentice remained silent for less than a second.

"The cold blade is drawn."

"Slay all demons."

The poem was recited, the sword flashed, and then they continued on their journey.

The second legend tells of a great demon invading the highlands, slaughtering countless people, plundering the Tantric sect, obscuring Buddhist teachings, causing people to tremble, and ultimately plundering endless treasures to return to the Nine Provinces.

In short, it has a terrible reputation.

The desire to exorcise demons spread throughout the high-altitude cultivation world, reaching very high places.

Above the snow line, the gale-force winds are like knives, capable of tearing flesh from bone for ordinary people. This place should be a forbidden zone for life, yet a red figure sits quietly cross-legged on the exposed black rock.

The robe remained motionless in the gale, gleaming with a faint golden-red luster, like solidified flame.

His posture was incredibly upright, his spine like a pillar reaching to the sky, his head like the top of a hanging gourd, and his shoulders so steady that they could hold a whole butter lamp without spilling a drop.

His face seemed to have been sculpted by centuries of wind and snow, with a pair of amber eyes set in deep-set sockets, and a golden wheel seemingly slowly turning deep within his pupils.

He holds a gilded prayer wheel in his right hand, the body of which is engraved with miniature Buddhist scriptures. With each rotation, invisible golden Sanskrit characters drift in the wind.

"Master, please exorcise the demon."

Several abbots from major monasteries came here to pay their respects, harboring various desires and requesting the master to intervene.

The great monk naturally knew right from wrong.

But the high monk remained in the mortal realm, naturally with a request. These people also offered a price.

Suddenly, the snow within a three-zhang radius beneath their feet melted, revealing an ancient stone platform inscribed with esoteric Buddhist mantras. Each mantra shone with golden light, forming an eight-petaled lotus pattern.

"Om Mani Padme Hum."

As the six-syllable mantra was recited, the fierce wind on the mountaintop suddenly stopped for a moment. A special rune on the prayer wheel lit up.

"Cause and effect, reincarnation." The monk's voice was deep and resonant, like the trembling of a great earthquake, and he spoke in pure Central Plains Mandarin.

He formed a strange hand seal with his left hand, bending his little and ring fingers while keeping the other three fingers straight like swords.

This is a secret method of the soul, involving the mystery of cause and effect.

It was precisely because of this method that they were hunted down and ended up in this barbarian land.

The scattered golden Sanskrit characters no longer dissipated, but condensed into a thin line and flew far away.

A vertical line appeared between the eyebrows, like a closed third eye. When the line slightly opened, the shadows of the entire snow mountain subtly distorted, as if countless dark shadows were writhing inside the mountain.

The eight-petaled lotus phantom beneath their feet suddenly reversed, its petals turning an eerie dark red, and a snake emerged from the center of the flower.

"Green Snake."

The serpentine shape instantly disintegrated, transforming into two swords.

"Magic sword?"

The senior monk did not understand why this cause and effect could not be fixed. Could it be that the demonic weapon in the other party's possession had some hidden secrets?

Then, the center of the flower changed again, and a human figure appeared.

"people?"

The flower's center changes again, revealing a lotus with thirty-six petals.

The senior monk remained silent; the Dharma was no longer under his control and began to evolve on its own.

The center of the flower is ever-changing, with sacred mountains, the great sun, and scenes of supreme bliss.
The great monk has passed away.

(End of this chapter)