novelraw Chapter 347 - 187: The Eternal Alchemy Scripture Has No Mantra! Three Corpses Daoist (5k-word - ) (3)
Chapter 347 - 187: The Eternal Alchemy Scripture Has No Mantra! Three Corpses Daoist (5k-word - ) (3)
"When water reaches its end, it becomes a scenery; when a person reaches their end, it is a rebirth... I will teach you a technique, if mastered, you can traverse the world, not beneath Dragon and Tiger."
The reflection in the water softly whispered, its voice vast and boundless.
"A toad yawns, bragging without bounds." Zhang San sneered.
"Do you know where this is? Dragon Tiger Mountain, the ancestral court of the Daoist Sect in the world, and you dare to presumptuously claim to teach me?"
"It’s not I who teach you, but you who teach yourself."
The reflection in the water changed the subject, suddenly laughed.
"I teach myself?" Zhang San was stunned.
This technique is called a technique but is not a technique. If seen as true, it may also be false. Always learning from the Immortals, for ages the Alchemy Scripture has no mantra."
A gentle whisper resounded, like a sudden flash of lightning, as if thunder was striking.
From that day forward, the once exceptionally talented Zhang San became silent and unassuming. Compared to those disciples with the Divine Title and Godhood, he indeed became quite ordinary.
For this, he even earned a name, Zhang Kongming, with the Ancestral Master bestowing only an empty name out of no pity.
Every day, he spent most of his time practicing alone on the back mountain, with only Shijiu by his side.
Shijiu also knew that when he reached twenty, he would have to leave the mountain gate.
And so, another three years passed.
The world became increasingly chaotic, and the bodies at the foot of the mountain couldn’t be collected in time.
The number of masterless unjust spirits in the world increased, resentment rising to the heavens, even though Dragon Tiger Mountain conducted a funeral rite every three to five days, it was like a drop in the ocean.
The speed of the rites could never catch up with the speed of death.
That year, Shijiu participated in the Divine Investiture Ceremony, receiving a Daoist name, bestowed as Immortal Fairy.
Zhang Xian’e, it’s quite a decent name.
In Zhang San’s view, it was much better than Zhang Kongming, at least little Shijiu established a Divine Statue, her future accomplishments immeasurable.
"Brother San, I can finally go down the mountain."
On this day, Zhang Xian’e followed the senior master from the sect down the mountain, this was her first time leaving the mountain, naturally, she was incredibly excited.
"It’s really chaotic down the mountain nowadays, don’t run around." Zhang San warned.
Three years of solitary, arduous practice, fortunately accompanied by this sister.
"Wait obediently on the mountain, I’ll bring you something delicious." Zhang Xian’e, excited like a little rabbit.
In Zhang San’s eyes, there was reluctance, next year he would have to leave the mountain.
...
Rumbling...
The mountain weather changed, black clouds surged, lightning flashed and thunder roared.
In the cold Great Hall, corpses were laid out, surviving little Daoists, their breath weak, recounting painful experiences.
They had gone down the mountain, entered a village, only to find that the village was already occupied by nearby bandits. The villagers dared not speak out and drugged their food...
The Daoists of Dragon Tiger Mountain naturally ignored these ghostly tricks.
But...
"There were too many of them... they had guns... and cannons... Master Uncle... Master Uncle and the others..."
For a moment, the survivors cried uncontrollably, the bandits were ruthless, holding villagers as leverage, surviving only a few and bringing the bodies back to the mountain was not easy.
This was the chaotic world, no one knew who would die next.
Every day someone died, it was either you or him.
Even with world-shaking Divine Techniques, they couldn’t withstand this vast trend.
Rumbling...
At this moment, outside the Great Hall, a bolt of thunder tore through the sky, the flashing lightning stretching the lone, thin shadow at the door for a long distance.
"Zhang... Zhang San..."
At this moment, all eyes turned towards the entrance.
The young man stood there, one hand gripping the door frame, the door frame creaked, leaving five imprints, his trembling gaze searching among the cold bodies, finally resting on lifeless Shijiu.
The once vibrant girl, blood still not dried, had food wrapped in her arms.
"Phew..."
The boy’s eyes turned from confusion, becoming sorrowful, then gradually denied, finally brimming with ferocity, he turned and walked away, not looking back, madly rushing towards the mountain, while the same sect called after him.
...
The setting sun on West Mountain, the remnant sun like blood.
The ruined village was like purgatory, broken walls and ruins everywhere, burning houses not yet extinguished...
Heads were neatly hung at the village entrance, corpses piled like small hills.
The entire village of 168 people, including those bandits and villagers, not a single one survived.
"Zhang Kongming, have you gone mad?"
At this moment, the Daoists of Dragon Tiger Mountain had already arrived, seeing the scene before them like purgatory, their hearts were incomparably shocked.
In their sight, Zhang San seemed to walk from a sea of blood, holding a blunt knife in one hand, and the fingertips of the other hand glowing with fierce, menacing thunder.
"Thunder Skill!?"
"You’re mad... you didn’t even spare the villagers, they were innocent."
A Daoist of Dragon Tiger Mountain shouted sharply.
"Innocent? In this cannibalistic chaotic world, where is there innocence?" Zhang San sneered, "Some people, living is itself a sin."
"Come back with us, life or death depends on your fate." One of them frowned and said.
"Go back? Go where?" Zhang San laughed.
The Ancestral Master wanted to abandon him, the sect wanted to kill him, even little Shijiu, whom he loved most, had left him...
He suddenly realized, this vast world no longer had a place for him.
"Let’s go!"
The Daoist sighed, shadows quickly spread out, forming a siege around Zhang San.
The blunt knife moved, the extinguished thunder suddenly rose again...
In the smoke and dust, the sound of killing echoed, as if composing a tragic song under the bleeding sunset.
Finally, the young man was defeated, no matter how strong, he was just one person, killing with bloodshot eyes had already exhausted almost all his strength.
However, at this moment, every gaze directed at him was full of disbelief.
No one expected, this Zhang family member who had not obtained a Daoist name or Divine Statue, actually harbored such terrifying power.
"What a waste of your talent." The Daoist sighed.
"Hehe..."
At this time, beneath their feet, in the bloodstained dust, the boy’s body trembled, as if using his last strength, trying to get up.
"Immortals are made by humans, only afraid humans lack determination... I’ll see, in the next century... who can become a god or Immortal in this Red Dust..."
Rumbling...
As soon as the words fell, a terrifying aura erupted from the boy’s body, blazing up to the sky like a great fire painting the heavens blue.
The crowd’s faces changed suddenly, looking up, they saw the boy’s Primordial Spirit emerging, unexpectedly splitting right in front of everyone’s eyes.
One dazzling, one with overwhelming ferocity, one with bind-breaking fury...
"Divine Splitting Technique, Three Corpses Illuminating Fate!? Zhang San... you... you..."
A group of Daoists’ gazes trembled, unable to believe their eyes, being disciples of Dragon Tiger Mountain, how could they not recognize this world-shaking technique, this supreme Profound Skill!?
"From today on, I’m not called Zhang San... nor do I bear the surname Zhang..."
"We are..."
At this moment, three terrifying Primordial Spirits, like hanging in the sky, as if close to the mortal world, majestic, terrifying voices, like Life-taking Talismans, echoed above the scorched earth, echoed in the hearts of the crowd.
"Three Corpses Daoist!!"