Chapter Fourteen: The Ferocious Beasts Vanish, Hongjun Seeks the Way

At this moment, Shen Ni, who had been standing aside, spoke: “Fellow Daoist, could you release Taotie? We will depart at once. So long as you remain, my clan of monstrous beasts shall never invade the Great Desolation again.”

The entire battlefield seemed to freeze in a strange pause; even the fierce battle between the Three Pure Ones and Qiongqi ceased. All eyes turned to Chenxing, stunned.

Chenxing shook his head, and, with a casual wave of his hand, reduced Taotie to ashes. “I told you already: the monstrous beasts must be exterminated.” Pitiful Taotie, just dragged out from the rift in time and space, had not even regained his senses before Chenxing’s palm turned him to dust.

“No! This can’t be right! How did you do this?” Qiongqi, on the verge of madness, roared, “You used the power of the Chaos Stars, untainted by karma, to slay my brother. But how can you kill him so easily now? Why? There is no justice in the Great Dao, none!”

Driven mad, Qiongqi hurled himself at Chenxing. He knew he was no match for Chenxing, but in desperation, he unleashed all his power and self-destructed.

Yet the self-destruction of a perfected Great Luo Golden Immortal, only half a step from becoming a quasi-saint, failed to inflict the slightest harm on Chenxing. An azure lotus blossomed above Chenxing’s head, sheltering the four of them from Qiongqi’s explosion.

Shen Ni watched Qiongqi’s self-destruction without the least change in his expression, his eyes locked onto Chenxing.

Shen Ni retained part of the memories of the three thousand primordial divinities of chaos. By now, he understood that Chenxing’s cultivation had surpassed the realm of the saints. Heaven’s Dao had just manifested, and no saints of Heaven’s Dao had yet appeared; it was obvious that Chenxing was a Saint of the Great Dao, already transcendent of the Great Desolation.

Envy and jealousy welled up within Shen Ni as he realized the truth—such an achievement, even Pangu himself had not attained. He wondered how Chenxing had managed it. By now, all resentment toward Chenxing had faded; to be reduced to ashes by a saint’s hand was only natural.

With a sigh, Shen Ni knew his doom was certain. He bowed to Chenxing and said, “I pay my respects, Saint!”

From the sky, Hongjun descended and also bowed to Chenxing. What Shen Ni could surmise, Hongjun understood as well, and his heart was filled with mixed emotions.

Chenxing nodded, then said to Shen Ni, “Though you cannot escape your fate today, I have no wish for certain petty souls to enjoy their secret triumph. I shall bring you the true culprit who provoked your army of monstrous beasts to invade the Great Desolation. The two of you shall fight in chaos—live or die as fate decrees. If you survive, then so be it.”

Shen Ni was overjoyed—he had not expected even a sliver of hope. His hatred for those who, over tens of thousands of years, had slaughtered his kin and provoked him into attacking the Great Desolation ahead of time, was bone-deep. Now, given this chance for vengeance, he naturally accepted.

“Many thanks for your mercy, Saint!” Shen Ni bowed once more.

Chenxing nodded, reached out towards the west, and a colossal hand swept down, seizing a dark figure from afar and hurling him into the chaos. Nodding to Shen Ni, he watched as Shen Ni bowed, shot up, and rushed into chaos, never glancing back at the monstrous beast army below.

With the upper echelons of the beast horde wiped out, the Three Pure Ones, Zhenyuanzi, the Daoist of Heaven and Earth, Minghe, Kunpeng, Fuxi, Nuwa, and the others all shouted as one: “Slay them!” They charged into the monstrous beast army, beginning a massacre.

As the cultivators of the Great Desolation slaughtered the beasts and reaped vast heavenly merit, their joy was unrestrained—until suddenly, the sound of battle cries thundered across the land.

The newcomers were the three mightiest clans among the hundred tribes of the Great Desolation: the Dragons, the Phoenixes, and the Qilins. Earlier, when Shen Ni led the beast horde rampaging across the land, these three clans dared not act for fear of inviting disaster. Although slaying monstrous beasts brought merit, the threat of Shen Ni and the four great beasts kept the three clans discreet, though their attention never strayed from the battlefield.

Now, seeing the four great beasts slain and Shen Ni fleeing into chaos, they hastened to seize the spoils. As for the fate of Shen Ni and the four great beasts, the three clans assumed they had been vanquished by the assembled mighty ones, unaware of Chenxing’s existence.

The Three Pure Ones and the others were furious at such opportunistic behavior. At this, Hongjun respectfully bowed to Chenxing and asked, “Saint, how should we deal with these three clans?”

Chenxing cast Hongjun a curious look and replied obliquely, “It was you, I believe, who listened to my Dao on the Eastern Sea?”

Hongjun was shocked—he had believed that the Dao he heard on the Eastern Sea was a gift from the Dao itself, never suspecting it was this very figure before him who had spoken. He hastily bowed again. “So it was you, Saint, who spoke then. My deepest thanks for your gift.”

“Enough. That was your good fortune. In future, show some care for the beings of my Fangzhang Island,” Chenxing replied with a smile.

“I dare not refuse,” Hongjun replied, bowing. He cast a meaningful glance at the little demoness still sleeping in Chenxing’s arms, memorizing her appearance.

He could not help but sigh inwardly: this elder’s care for the younger generation is truly touching. Because the beastly miasma once frightened this little girl, the last hope for the monstrous beasts’ survival is now lost. He did not believe Shen Ni could return alive.

“Leave those three clans be for now; Heaven’s Dao will judge them in time,” Chenxing said with disdain, glancing briefly at the three clans.

Little did the three chieftains know that their opportunistic scheming had earned them the enmity not only of several future saints of Heaven’s Dao, but of Hongjun, destined to become the first Saint of Heaven’s Dao and the Dao Ancestor himself. Their later doom at the hands of both Dao and Demon was only their just deserts.

As for Chenxing, the three clans were not even worthy of his enmity.

……

In the ensuing slaughter of the monstrous beasts, decades passed, and the billions-strong beast horde was all but exterminated—only a few escaped into the remote mountains; the rest were wiped out. Yet the cultivators of the Great Desolation also suffered grievous losses; save for a handful of mighty ones, only a sparse few lesser cultivators survived.

Still, those who lived were delighted, for each had gained considerable merit from Heaven’s Dao, enough to advance their cultivation still further.

The chieftains of the Dragon, Phoenix, and Qilin clans were especially pleased. Thanks to their clans’ heavy participation, they reaped enough merit to greatly enhance their tribes’ power and secure their position as the leading forces of the Great Desolation. As for the looks of anger from the Three Pure Ones and their peers, they simply ignored them.

With the calamity over, the world returned to clarity. Gazing at the ravaged land, the survivors each sighed and dispersed.

No one saw, as the last monstrous beasts fled into the mountains, that silent bolts of lightning struck down everywhere, annihilating them where they hid. The words of the Dao are law: from then on, the monstrous beasts were no more in the Great Desolation.

Perhaps the most frustrated of all was the Demon Ancestor of the West, Luohu. He had schemed endlessly to provoke war between the monstrous beasts and the cultivators of the Great Desolation, hoping to harvest the resulting miasma and break through to become a Demon Saint.

But at the critical moment, he was thrown into chaos by an unknown hand and fought Shen Ni for over a decade. Though he ultimately slew Shen Ni with the God-Slaying Spear, he was gravely wounded himself and would need to recuperate for tens of thousands of years. This time, he gained nothing but loss, and who knew when he would become a saint.

With a bitter shake of his head, Luohu withdrew to heal, and the matter was left aside.

……

As Fuxi and Nuwa prepared to return to Buzhou Mountain, Hongjun approached and saluted them. “Fellow Daoists, please wait a moment.”

Faced with such a powerful figure, Fuxi and his sister dared not be rude and returned the greeting at once. “What does Fellow Daoist wish of us?”

Hongjun replied, “I saw you arrive with the Saint. Might you introduce us?”

“Saint?” Fuxi and Nuwa were puzzled, not knowing whom Hongjun meant.

In truth, only Hongjun and Shen Ni had discerned that Chenxing had transcended the saintly realm, for only those with origins as primordial divinities of chaos would understand what it meant to be a saint. Hongjun, too, was a remnant body of a primordial divinity, brought to life by cultivating Pangu’s three thousand Great Daos, thus integrating with the Great Desolation and avoiding the enmity of Heaven’s Dao.

The others at this time knew nothing of the realm of the saints, so it was no wonder Fuxi and Nuwa were confused by Hongjun’s words.

“I mean the one who came with you earlier,” Hongjun explained.

Fuxi realized, “You speak of Fellow Daoist Chenxing!”

With a brief calculation, now that the calamity was over and the world was clear again, Fuxi surmised that Chenxing had returned with the little demoness to their dwelling on Buzhou Mountain more than a decade ago. He said to Hongjun, “Chenxing is at our place of cultivation. If you wish, you may come with us.”

“Then I must trouble you,” Hongjun replied, bowing once more.

Together they flew to Buzhou Mountain. Upon arriving at Fuxi and Nuwa’s abode, they saw a little girl playing outside. When she saw Nuwa, she ran over joyfully. “Sister Nuwa, you’re back!”

Nuwa caught the little demoness in her arms, laughing. “Did you miss me?”

“I did! My brother said you were coming back, so I came to see you,” the little one replied.

“And where is your brother?” Fuxi asked softly.

“He’s asleep!” she replied cheerfully. “I’ll take you to him!” With that, she skipped ahead.

Following her, Fuxi and Nuwa entered Chenxing’s temporary cave abode, where Chenxing sat with a gentle smile, watching them enter.

Hongjun stepped forward, bowed deeply, and said respectfully, “Hongjun pays his respects to the Saint.”

Chenxing waved his hand. “Please, sit.” He lifted the little demoness into his lap, then, once all were seated, asked, “What brings you here, Fellow Daoist?”

Hongjun replied, “I came to ask: it is said that Heaven’s Dao in the Great Desolation shall give rise to seven saints. Are you, Senior, among them?”

“You will all be saints of Heaven’s Dao. I am now a Saint of the Great Dao, not of Heaven’s Dao, and thus not among them.”

Hongjun started, rising in shock. “Then, Senior, could it be that you truly are—”

Before he could finish, Chenxing raised a hand, sending his words directly into Hongjun’s soul: “Not as you imagine. I can only tell you that I did not achieve sainthood through any of Pangu’s three thousand Great Daos, nor was it by force. As for the rest, you are not yet ready to know. Should you one day free yourself from Heaven’s Dao and attain the fruit of the Great Dao on your own, you will learn my origins.”

Hongjun pondered this deeply, detecting several truths in Chenxing’s words. First, Chenxing’s path to sainthood was unlike any recorded among the three thousand Great Daos. Second, Chenxing could foresee both his own future and that of the Great Desolation. Third, and most importantly, Chenxing seemed to regard even the realm of the Saint of the Great Dao as a mere trifle, as though his origins reached even further.