Chapter Ninety-Three: The Nether River Founds a Sect, the Daoist Order Accepts Disciples

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Since the emergence of the Six Sages of the Great Desolation, the Demon Emperor Dijun and the Eastern Emperor Taiyi were both furious. Though they lacked the Primordial Violet Qi, they had always relied on their profound foundations and considered themselves among the most powerful beings in the world, and were quite proud of this. Now, to see the Three Pure Ones and Zhenyuanzi—whose cultivation was previously equal to their own, having only severed two corpses—attain sainthood with the aid of the Heavenly Dao’s merit and the Primordial Violet Qi, they could barely tolerate it. Yet, who could have foreseen that the two from the West, who had only severed one corpse each, would also prove the Dao through their grand vows and rise above them? The two could not help but curse the injustice of the Heavenly Dao.

Only at this moment did they realize how difficult it was to prove the Dao without the Primordial Violet Qi. Now that all the Sages had appeared, only Hongyun still possessed a trace of Primordial Violet Qi, yet it had already fused with his primordial spirit due to the intervention of Chen Xing, rendering it impossible to seize again.

After much contemplation, the two finally conceived a plan: to dominate the entire Great Desolation and rule as the Supreme Emperors. Then, even the Sages could do nothing to them. The Heavenly Dao would surely grant them merit, and perhaps then they might attain sainthood.

With this course decided, they began plotting in secret, seeking first to eliminate the Wu tribe, their greatest obstacle, and then gradually unify the lands...

Within the Great Desolation, there was a tainted region—the Sea of Blood, transformed from Pangu’s navel. Minghe, the Ancestor of the Netherworld, who had once attended the teachings at Zixiao Palace with the others, was also born here.

Previously, seeing others establish sects and attain sainthood, Minghe’s heart burned with desire. He had learned that after the Sage Nuwa created humanity and gained much merit from the Heavenly Dao, he too tried to gain merit. Attracted by the filth of the Sea of Blood, he fused wandering souls with its essence and created a new race—the Asuras—hoping to acquire enough merit to break through to sainthood.

Alas, though some merit did descend, it was far too little, allowing him only a minor advance in cultivation. Now, witnessing the rise of the Sages once more, he was again inspired. Gathering the Asuras in the great hall of the Sea of Blood, he soared above the sea and declared in a booming voice, "I, Minghe of the Sea of Blood, gather the resentful and baleful qi of the Great Desolation, and with the race I have created, shall establish the Asura Sect. With the accompanying treasures, the Yuan Slaughter and Abi Swords, I shall suppress the sect's fortune. Let the Heavenly Dao bear witness! The Asura Sect is hereby established!"

Instantly, waves of merit rained down from the sky, raising Minghe’s cultivation from the stage of having severed one corpse directly to the peak of Quasi-Sage, just a step away from severing the second corpse with the aid of a congenital spiritual treasure.

But the path to sainthood was still far off. Minghe could only sigh at Heaven’s injustice and return to the Sea of Blood to cultivate further.

Meanwhile, at Wuzhuang Temple on Longevity Mountain, where Zhenyuanzi cultivated in seclusion, two people chatted idly. One was Zhenyuanzi, newly ascended to the rank of Sage; the other was Zhu Feng—Fatty Zhu—a childhood friend of Chen Xing.

They were discussing the recent emergence of the Sages. Zhenyuanzi sighed, “If not for your guidance, Uncle-Master, I fear I would have fallen behind.”

“It’s not that I look down on those others, but if you hadn’t pioneered the path to sainthood, who knows how many years it would have taken them to think of founding sects to prove the Dao!” Zhu Feng replied with a hint of disdain.

“Uncle-Master, we mustn’t speak carelessly. Now that those people are Sages, any mention of them will draw their attention. We had better say no more!” Zhenyuanzi hurried to caution him.

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Fatty Zhu rolled his eyes and replied gruffly, “So what if they’re Sages? Merely Sages of the Heavenly Dao—I’m not afraid of them! You were the first among the six to become a Sage; what, are you worried they’ll give you trouble?”

Zhenyuanzi could only offer a wry smile. Such arrogance was probably unique to those from Fangzhang Island. Shaking his head, he decided not to argue further.

“Now, let’s discuss serious matters. The Daoist Sect has been established, and Fellow Daoist Fuxi is about to finish instructing his disciples. When shall we throw open our gates and accept disciples? We must get ahead of those others!” Zhu Feng said with a sly grin.

“I have a question for you, Uncle-Master, one that has long puzzled me,” Zhenyuanzi said with a look of confusion.

Waving his hand, Zhu Feng replied straightforwardly, “Since we founded the Daoist Sect together, there’s no need to call me Uncle-Master. From now on, let’s address each other as fellow Daoists. If you have a question, just ask!”

Zhenyuanzi nodded; now that he was a Sage, it was indeed inappropriate to call a Quasi-Sage “Uncle-Master.”

“Given your current cultivation and status, why must you establish a sect and recruit disciples on such a grand scale? We cultivators need only refine our own Dao to perfection. Isn’t this putting the cart before the horse?” Zhenyuanzi asked, perplexed.

Zhu Feng pursed his lips, thinking to himself, “If I don’t take disciples, how will I get hold of those important figures of future generations? Without forging karmic ties with them, who will help me cultivate?”

Yet his expression remained solemn as he replied, “With our cultivation, we are the very pinnacle of the Great Desolation. But countless beings here have no opportunity to attain the Dao. With great power comes great responsibility, does it not? Since we can help them, how can we focus only on our own perfection?”

Hearing these words, Zhenyuanzi fell silent. As a Sage of the Heavenly Dao, he was not easily swayed by Zhu Feng’s righteousness, but that phrase “with great power comes great responsibility” resonated with him.

Now that he had attained sainthood, solitary cultivation had limited use. Besides, he owed Zhu Feng a great karmic debt. So be it! He would go along with him.

Having made up his mind, Zhenyuanzi began to discuss with Zhu Feng the matter of establishing the Daoist Sect...

Decades later, a voice echoed throughout the Great Desolation: “I am Zhenyuanzi, Headmaster of the Daoist Sect. Today, our sect shall open its gates to accept ten disciples. Ten years from now, all fated ones may come forth!” The proclamation resounded through heaven and earth.

Instantly, the land was thrown into uproar. This was a Sage accepting disciples—who among the beings of the Great Desolation did not wish to become a Sage’s pupil?

In just a few years, countless beings gathered before the gates of Wuzhuang Temple, keeping the two Daoist boys, Qingfeng and Mingyue, so busy maintaining order that they were almost overwhelmed.

Fortunately, those who came to seek apprenticeship behaved themselves; none dared cause trouble before a Sage, and all waited respectfully for the gates to open.

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Unknowingly, the ten-year deadline had arrived.

On this day, the gates of Wuzhuang Temple swung open. A plump, round-faced Daoist stepped out, surveyed the sea of faces, and smiled. Clearing his throat, he announced, “Alright! Quiet, everyone. The Daoist Sect’s disciple selection ceremony begins now.”

Having spoken, the fat Daoist began to clap his hands.

Though many did not quite understand the meaning, they sensed that the ceremony was starting and, somewhat bewildered, joined in the applause.

In an instant, thunderous clapping resounded before Wuzhuang Temple.

After a while, seeing the enthusiastic response, the fat Daoist nodded in satisfaction, pressed his hands downward, and the crowd quieted, waiting for him to speak.

“My name is Zhu Feng, and I will also serve as Deputy Headmaster of the Daoist Sect. I will preside over this disciple selection ceremony. Those who qualify will become inner disciples of our sect. Those with lesser affinity may become outer disciples or leave of their own accord—the choice is yours. Did you all hear me clearly?”

“We heard, Deputy Headmaster! Begin the selection!”

“Yes! I can’t wait to become a Sage’s disciple—let’s start!”

“Exactly! We can’t wait any longer, hurry up!”

Thus, urged on by countless beings, the first grand-scale disciple selection of a great sect in the Great Desolation began with Zhu Feng’s declaration...

On Fangzhang Island, Chen Xing lounged leisurely, using his divine sense to observe events at Longevity Mountain as if watching a live broadcast, thoroughly entertained. After all, now that Zhenyuanzi could substitute for Nuwa, opening a sect and taking disciples would not affect much.

Just as he watched with great interest, a startled cry rang out: “Xiao Mi, what’s happened to you?!”

Hearing this exclamation, Chen Xing’s expression changed instantly.