They inched toward the fissure in the wall, and though the lady did her best to try repelling them, the larger spider, who emanated a life-leaching aura that made it difficult for even Feng Ming to breathe, let alone move, attacked her with precise strikes. She deflected the blows, which in turn allowed the spiders to surge forward.
“My king!” the woman bellowed.
Moments later, a figure appeared. It was none other than the angry king, Ji Lingtian. He threw his sword out to the massive spider, who recoiled as though it had met its worst nemesis.
“The Death-Spewing Blade!” the spider hissed, its mandibles chittering angrily.
“My ancestors banished you to the depths of that place, but it seems you’ve forgotten,” the king said, standing tall. “Life-Leaching Monarch, today, I will end you.”
“It seems it is you who’s forgotten humility,” the spider said. “I may not be able to breach this wall, but I can make you feel the consequences of encroachment. The miners you sent are dead, and you cannot stop my children from wreaking havoc in the city.”
“It seems you’re hellbent on this,” the king said solemnly.
“I would be a fool not to take the opportunity, when someone so willingly tore a gap for me,” the spider said. “I’ll make you wish your ancestors had finished the job all those years ago.”
The spider’s two front legs shot at the king, who sent out a storm of swords. They fanned out in patterns, deflecting the spider’s assault. Despite the creature’s massive girth, it wielded its massive, scythe-like limbs with lethal precision.
As the king deflected the limbs, he used the single golden sword he’d held at his side to carve away at the golden metallic shell on the spider’s body. He didn’t even bother attacking the eyes, as there were thousands, and each one was covered in a transparent membrane that granted them greater protection than the golden shell itself. The sword was extremely effective. In fact, it seemed to have been made to slay this creature. It tore a deep gash into the shell that didn’t recover despite the well-known regenerative powers of demons in their homeland.
That wasn’t to say the creature couldn’t fight back. While the king carved, it focused on spewing miasma. Feng Ming couldn’t breathe, but if he didn’t move now, he’d be completely paralyzed from exhaustion. Furthermore, the spider was spreading a thick, webby substance on the floor. Wherever it lay, the spiders moved more quickly. Even now, hundreds more of the foundation-establishment spiders swarmed past the desperate older lady as she worked to keep them at bay.
Looks like it’s time to bail, Feng Ming thought. He flew toward the crack, but just as he did, he heard a scream.
“It’s him!” the older lady yelled. “He’s the one who tore open the rift!”
The king growled upon hearing her words. He diverted his attention from the spider for a moment, sending everything, every sword in his arsenal, toward Feng Ming.
Crap! Feng Ming thought, bringing up his Magma God’s Spear. He could barely hold the thing, and it took everything he had to mobilize his qi to block the incoming swords. He executed a single technique: Magma God’s Thrust. A spray of lava accompanied the spear strike toward the swords, just barely deflecting them away from him. Those that weren’t deflected luckily avoided any vitals, cutting him only shallowly in the process. He didn’t have time to worry about those small wounds, however. He braced himself, grunting in pain as the king’s main sword, clearly a transcendent treasure, struck the Magma God’s Spear. The red-hot spear, which had survived months against the Taotie, cracked. Then, the crack widened, and the entire spearhead broke.
“Damn it!” Feng Ming cried out. His spear exploded, and the molten explosion forced back the remaining swords. It also forced him and several spiders through the rift. He used the momentum to accelerate his retreat. The king and the lady didn’t follow. They were clearly distracted by the larger spider and the incoming swarm.
The city was a disaster. Nearly a third of the palace was in ruins, with soldiers sifting through the rubble. The northern streets were filling up with deadly miasma and spiders, which the army and the city guard were collaborating to take out. To the west, a fire was burning where Gong Xuandi was fighting. And to the south, there was an unexpected fire. No, not a fire. Smoke was rising from an intact building. Was it a trick of the light?
To the west, an even more terrifying presence was approaching. Dozens of experts were fighting it, slowing it as it crawled desperately toward civilization and the energy it desperately craved. Transcendents stood by, worried about inserting themselves in the conflict, but bitterly acknowledging that if they didn’t do anything about it, all would be lost.
Only one word could describe the city’s situation: chaotic.
“Chaos is cash,” Feng Ming muttered, flying over to the northern section of the palace. Conflicts in four different locations meant that the palace, and therefore, the treasury, was lightly guarded. Now all he needed to do was guess the combination. He was good at guessing.
“Heavens above, I hate spiders,” Bear One muttered, hiding in a hastily carved-out hole from the spider swarm that had appeared out of nowhere. He and his group, the new Bears Two through Five, had been preparing to go out with the next quake. Unexpectedly, it hadn’t come from the canyon—it had come from the wall itself.
The new Bear Four, a spindly, jovial man, was cut down before they could even react. They were all body cultivators, yes, but how did you deal with a sudden intensification in the life-leaching aura, combined with a dozen fatal wounds to the head? You didn’t, it seemed.
Fortunately, Bear One was a fast thinker. He recalled Bear Six’s—or whatever his real name was—warning and slapped a protective talisman on his arm and on the remaining three bears. It was a good move, it seemed, as the spiders began avoiding them from then on.
They’d been cowering in their hole ever since. No sense rocking the boat. Lying low was definitely the best course of action, though they’d have a tough time explaining exactly how they’d survived the onslaught.
“Who would have thought there’s be so many spiders underground,” Bear Two said, shaking his head. “You only see a dozen or so every quake. But here, there are thousands. Tens of thousands.”
Bear Three scoffed. “You ever seen a spider’s nest?”
Bear Two shook his head.
“Spiders have sacs. They have thousands of little babies, and carnivorous ones are even worse. Why, I’ve seen mortal spiders the size of my fist dragging goldish out of a pond, then draggin’ ’em back to their younglings. Gone in three hours, tops.”
Bear Two’s eyes widened.
“We can all relax for now,” Bear One said. “We are safe, and the spiders are gone. We’ve got a hole to hide in, and hours to spare until we have to return. Besides…” He sniffed. “The life-leaching isn’t so bad right now. We might even have a whole day.”
Bear Five, an obese but strong man, trudged up to the wall beside where Bear One was lying. He sat down on the ground, which let out a soft tremor. Bear Five was an odd one. He was dreadfully daft, but results couldn’t be ignored. Something about his big bones made it so he could never retract his gravity field, which was many times stronger than normal. While that didn’t mean much for everyone else, it meant that his every movement bore his entire strength. He was also much stronger than any marrow-refining cultivator Bear One had ever seen, and he could dig like the devil himself.
“Time to rest,” Bear Five said, shutting his eyes.
Bear One flinched and ducked to the side as Bear Five, blissfully unaware of the impact he had on his surroundings, rested on the mountain wall. It collapsed inward. The other bears cursed, but Bear One ignored them.
“Look at what we have here,” Bear One said, pleasantly surprised. Bear Five was out cold, since he’d decided to sleep and nothing anyone did could convince him otherwise. The other two bears, however, saw what Bear One saw. A glittering treasure trove, dozens of different colors. Ores, gemstones, an
d all sorts of goodies lay just beyond the fragile shell he’d managed to collapse.
“Taking that man in was the best decision I have ever made,” Bear One muttered, making his way into the treasure trove. He glanced up and noticed the others weren’t following. “Heavens above, you damned lazy louts had better get yourselves moving, or so help me god, I am going to give you the beating of a lifetime.”
He looked to Bear Five, who was still sleeping, and gave him a good kick. “You too. You’re not here to sleep, you are here to work.” He’d tried many times now, but replacing the Bear crew wasn’t working out like he’d planned. Maybe next time he’d go out on his own. Or back to where he came from. People were sensible on his home plane. They had self-control, they weren’t daft, and more importantly, they didn’t sleep on the job. And they were stronger. Too strong for his liking.
“I guess that’s why I’m here and not there,” Bear One muttered. “Best to be a big fish in a little pond than a little fish in a big pond.” At least here, he could get more resources. At least here, he could grow without other blood-awakening cultivators trying to stop him.
What in the seven heavens is going on? Cha Ming thought, looking out to the city. He’d just gone into the monastery for a few minutes, but already the city was falling apart. He recognized that roar, or at least recognized its nature if not its ferocity. It was the Life-Leaching Monarch, and it had already launched its attack.
That came as a surprise to Cha Ming. The next step in his plan had been to eliminate the Spirit Temple. After that, he’d planned on smashing a gouge in the wall with his Clear Sky Staff, then using the chaos that ensued from the pincer beast tide and the Taotie to make his escape.
It seemed someone had done that for him. And he had a pretty good idea how. The defective Breaker, which wouldn’t operate as planned but would catastrophically self-destruct, hopefully killing the crown prince and a few close associates, had already gone off. He hadn’t been counting on it. Rather, that was just one last goodbye present, another nail in the coffin for both the Wang family and for the Ji Kingdom. It seemed that someone had thought it a great idea to activate it where it lay, obliterating a third of the palace and carving a deep gouge in the wall. Cha Ming thanked his lucky stars he’d aimed it northward, or the loss of innocent life would have been even more devastating.
Now, spiders crawled throughout the northern streets. Guards were busy repelling them, and he felt two powerful figures clashing with the Life-Leaching Monarch and fighting it to a standstill. In the west, a strong but familiar aura was busy fighting dozens of cultivators in a brutal clash. Likely, it was a body cultivator causing havoc. In the east, the Taotie was looming ever closer. Unlike the northern beast tide, it made no sound. It simply walked as quickly as it could while dozens of cultivators executed one technique after another to slow it down and buy the city time.
I should have time for one more, Cha Ming thought. He slipped through the streets in Pai Xiao’s guise, ignoring shocked gasps as people saw him disappear. He appeared moments later above the Spirit Temple. Unceremoniously, he clicked the Space-Time Camera. It charged up for three seconds, then formed a complete barrier. Cha Ming flew into it. He wasn’t welcomed by swords and staves but eerie silence. They were hiding, and with good reason. He saw faint outlines of ghosts taking refuge nearby. Other, more powerful ghosts surrounded him.
“Hiding is futile,” Cha Ming said softly. His eyes glowed three colors as he activated his fused Devil-Sealing, Demon-Subduing, Spirit-Banishing Eyes. He glared at his surroundings, his eyes burning with what he now clearly saw as hatred. His eyes hated and wanted nothing more than to sear themselves out, to never see those things that offended them again.
He saw them clearly now, crimson ghosts that monitored Bastion Temple, and acolytes who cowered behind them, along with their companion spirits. Spectral Assassins, half human, half ghosts, swarmed toward him. They thought themselves invisible, but to Cha Ming, finding them was an easy task.
“Die,” Cha Ming whispered. His combat sigils flew outward like before, filled with fire, though now they were filled with Spirit-Banishing Intent. They burned through people, buildings, and ghosts alike. Unlike the Blood Master Monastery, the Spirit Temple was a public place. Many hundreds of innocents were here, paying respects or inquiring for services. Clerks were especially prominent here, as producing and enforcing contracts was the Spirit Temple’s main duty in the South.
Unfortunately, to destroy the temple, these lives had to be sacrificed. His heart wept as they died, and with each death, he felt a chain of sin lay down on his soul, tainting it ever so slightly beneath the brilliant jade glow.
Hundreds of thousands of spirits were banished in an instant. And with their deaths, his eyes burned with power unlike any he’d ever experienced. He glanced at oncoming Spectral Assassins that had survived his attack, but the moment he looked at them, they vanished. They couldn’t bear his glare, which sent them directly to the Yellow River they’d evaded for so long.
In the main temple, a man howled. An especially large column of souls was oozing out form there and plunging into a yellow river that seemed so vivid and lifelike. He’d banished so many at once that the Underworld and the mortal realm were now intersecting, and they were visible to each other. Above the yellow river, he caught sight of an old man in black robes holding a reaper’s scythe. He had a timeless look in his black eyes, and his face bore the hint of a smile. He looked down to the man’s hands and was surprised to discover Yama himself giving him a thumbs-up for a job well done. It seemed the keeper of the Underworld had been eyeing this place for quite some time.
“I will end you!” the man who’d howled earlier said. A half-step-transcendent soul erupted with power as it began voraciously absorbing the escaping souls. Its pressure mounted until it broke through to transcendence. Clouds above manifested white lightning many times stronger than he’d witnessed with the blood master before. Last time, the heavens had been offended by the blood master’s actions. Here, they were utterly enraged.
“Leave now,” they said with crackling lightning bolts. “Leave now, or we will end you.”
But the ghost, who’d broken through by forcefully by consuming so many others, didn’t leave. The powerful soul, much stronger than Cha Ming could have ever imagined, bore down on him like a heavy mountain. It pressed on his soul with tangible weight. He was at a complete disadvantage—how could he not be? His transcendent soul was casually cultivated, a secondary path that the universe barely recognized.
But this man was something else entirely. Just like Gong Lan, he was a pure soul cultivator on a powerful path. Gong Lan had cultivated the Buddhist path, and using it, she could fight evenly with apex cultivators like Cha Ming. This man cultivated the evil spirit path. Evil spirits would never let go of a grudge.
The ghost howled as it became thousands of faces that plunged into his spiritual sea. Cha Ming’s transcendent soul’s eyes opened. He stretched his limbs and summoned an illusory version of the Clear Sky Staff. After all, a transcendent soul was not defenseless. It could move, it could fight. He swung at the invading figures, hacking away at them with Spirit-Banishing Intent while Cha Ming’s own glaring eyes wore away at the soul above them. The burning combat formation had shrunk down to only a few hundred meters, and each flame bore the Spirit-Banishing Intent that wore away at the Shepherd faster than he could consume souls.
Then came the lightning. Unable to bear the fact that the Shepherd hadn’t obeyed its command, the lightning shot down and encapsulated both Cha Ming and the Shepherd in a sea of light. He roared in agony, and so did Cha Ming. Whereas before they’d been fighting, they could now only shudder as the lightning ate away at their spiritual presence.
But the Shepherd didn’t seem to care. In fact, this seemed to have been his goal all along. Cha Ming had destroyed his temple, so he would destroy Cha Ming, whatever the cost. He clung to this plane that hated him so, and Cha Ming could only direct his Spirit-Ban
ishing Intent at the evil spirit. He kept his eyes open, but his eyes bled profusely. Moreover, his vision darkened. He’d activated his eye technique far longer than he’d ever had to since gaining the Demon-Subduing Eyes. Since then, he’d only gained a decent amount of Demon-Subduing Intent.
The Spirit-Banishing Eyes, on the other hand, now had a literal ocean of Spirit-Banishing Intent. The strain these three intents placed on him was great, but unfortunately, it wasn’t just his life on the line, but his very soul.
As Cha Ming struggled, a soft white light leaked out from the Clear Sky Staff, shielding him from the onslaught. It was only a small contribution, but every tiny bit mattered in this war of attrition. Even the Monkey King was doing what he could from the Clear Sky World, siphoning a portion of his transcendent force and sending it to Cha Ming’s fading soul.
One agonizing second passed after another until finally, the Shepherd let out one last wail. He moved to combust, but the keeper of the Underworld, who’d been watching all this time, scoffed. He swept out his scythe, and the blow reached across entire worlds. It nipped the raging Shepherd’s explosion in the bud, dragging him directly into the Yellow River. Cha Ming looked at Yama incredulously, but the man didn’t seem to notice. He simply looked up at the sky and whistled, pretending nothing had ever happened. Cha Ming could only shake his head in bemusement.
With the Shepherd’s death, the remaining souls could no longer exist. They were forced back into the Underworld, leaving only smoldering buildings and cracked stone where Cha Ming lay kneeling down, his eyes bleeding. He closed them and blinked a few times. He tried to deactivate his eye technique but discovered that he couldn’t. But neither could he see. He could open his eyes all he liked, but they were clouded. He was blind.
Shattered Lands: Book 8 of Painting the Mists Page 44
