Chapter 356: River-East Lion's Roar

The sea of clouds was another sky. The two worlds separated by this sky shimmered with utterly different hues.

Above the dark clouds, the Golden-winged Great Peng's Grand Sun Buddha Nation Scroll had unfurled. In its brilliant and magnificent radiance, divine golden Buddhas and demons emerged from the painting one after another. Some wore battle armor and wielded butcher knives, their faces ferocious; others wore cassocks and carried staffs, their forms solemn and majestic. They appeared like spirit-devourers escaped from the Sea of Ruins, yet they were gilded with golden light, radiating inviolable majesty.

There were nine such divine beings in total. Each was a god renowned in ancient times. Later, during the divine wars, the Golden-winged Great Peng became one of the strongest ancient demons, gaining the power to devour the heavens. It consumed these gods, refining them into golden-armored puppets for its own use within the divine scroll.

Above the Buddha Nation Scroll, nine golden holy swords sliced forth like a peacock fanning its tail. Their vast, golden brilliance eclipsed all other light, illuminating the dark sea of clouds below. The silver moonlight that had covered the clouds was instantly swallowed by the golden glow.

If the sea of clouds represented the myriad forces summoned by Siming, then these forces were surely burdened with countless sins. They writhed in the golden flames, wailing in agony like unpardonable souls undergoing torment.

The nine divine beings raised their hands, each grasping a Yanghuang Azure Feather Sword. They adopted unique sword stances, resembling a dance that was both eerie and majestic. Yet, compared to the Golden-winged Great Peng's colossal Dharma Form, they still appeared minuscule, like mere Arhats under the Buddha.

The Golden-winged Great Peng and its Dharma Form simultaneously raised their hands and struck down towards Siming. Siming's black-robed figure was as tiny as a speck of dust in the golden light. Yet, her expression remained indifferent, and her icy eyes stayed calm.

Beneath her black robe, silver tattoos glowed, delicately tracing patterns like intricate designs on her divine garment. Before her, a sundial appeared and rapidly expanded. The patterns on the sundial resembled sprawling rose petals, their silver lines gaining a sacred beauty under the golden illumination. If the golden divine kingdom above the sea of clouds was a lit candle, then Siming was the candle's own shadow. No matter how bright the candle shone, it could not consume this discordant dark silhouette.

The Golden-winged Great Peng's giant claws struck down, and the nine Yanghuang Azure Feather Swords, held high by the divine beings, descended simultaneously. This was the very move that had almost slain the Peacock Mahamayuri. It was also one of the origins of his title, "Demon Saint."

Siming wasn't confident she could withstand this strike, but she showed no fear. She was no porcelain doll; her beauty stemmed from the ceaseless burning of divine fire, flames that had accumulated within her very bones, possessing a heat no less intense than the sacred fire of the Buddha Nation.

As the golden, sky-scorching flames, intertwined with sword light, descended, Siming's authority over time activated at full power. The domain of time unfolded, and the entire world seemed to sink into a quagmire of temporal flow, filled with an invisible medium, even light slowing to a crawl. Only Siming's figure maintained its high speed.

Her hand clenched suddenly, and a hurricane swirled and gathered around her palm, solidifying into a sword of void. The sword light flickered like restless, eerie blue flames. Siming's voice, cold as obsidian, echoed deafeningly through the sea of clouds and the golden kingdom: "You mortals, who for five centuries have failed to recognize the might of heaven, and have grown presumptuous, today, I shall show you the true authority that transcends all beings!"

This half-disk sundial completely locked down time within the entire domain. In the past, she had never truly summoned the sundial because of its immense significance, fearing it would attract the covetous gaze of Baizang. But now the situation was urgent, and the Golden-winged Great Peng was already significantly wounded. She had to completely incapacitate her opponent, rendering it utterly unable to fight.

Siming clasped the furious wind and flame waves in her palm, her figure shooting straight up. With an indignant strike, she plunged her sword directly into the Golden-winged Great Peng's colossal Dharma Form palm. The palm's advance was completely halted, and soon, cracks appearing on its back shattered. From within several golden rays, Siming's figure burst forth.

As the divine statue's giant palm shattered behind her, Siming's figure ascended vertically, her sword spinning rapidly in her hand. The sword's wind carried golden debris as it directly struck the center of the Dharma Form. An explosion resounded once more.

The almost motionless Dharma Form was pierced through its center, fragments raining down like sand. Siming, still wielding her sword, broke through the golden body, paused briefly on the Great Peng's back, then dipped slightly, gathering power before leaping. The sword at her side ignited, and she, trailing a long fiery tail, slashed directly at the nine divine beings suspended in the sky.

All the divine beings fixed their gaze upon her, their eyes wide with furious resolve. However, with time temporarily locked by the sundial, they were unable to defend themselves. Above the sea of clouds, Siming's figure, shooting skyward like an arrow, hovered before the first golden body. A full, rounded arc of light suddenly flared, like a bright moon hanging high. Silver radiance, like a sword, cut through the sky and sea, parting clouds and waves. Seemingly ethereal yet solid, straight yet curved, it followed a sharp trajectory, striking the golden body with the force of thunder.

Yet, it did not strike the golden body itself, but the entire expanse of space. Where Siming's sword struck, time ceased to flow, and the space occupied by the golden body was directly sliced in two. Bathed in the sword light, the nine divine beings appeared as if their upper halves were in the air, and their lower halves submerged in water, the refraction of light in the water causing their bodies to be displaced. But this was not an illusion caused by refraction; it was a true displacement.

The silver radiance momentarily overpowered the golden light. Siming hovered in the air, her figure like a god of slaughter, resembling a burning night. She formed hand seals mid-air, her silver hair wildly dancing. Ethereal swords instantly materialized by her side, appearing as if crafted from shimmering crystal, yet imbued with an unstoppable sharpness.

The nine divine beings had not yet collapsed; the luster of the Yanghuang Azure Feather Swords remained, and the Grand Sun Buddha Nation Scroll still gleamed brilliantly. Everything above the clouds, viewed through Siming's eyes, instantly grew cold. This was the moment since leaving Boundary City that her fighting spirit burned most fiercely.

Siming gripped the ancient Storm Sword, slowly raised it diagonally, then abruptly released it, flinging it away. The Storm Sword, no longer guided by her hand, instantly disintegrated, transforming into a violent gale. Like swirling tornadoes, it raged among the divine beings, sweeping through with destructive force, mercilessly slicing their golden bodies into countless fragments.

Siming's figure flashed, vibrating like thunder once more. She lifted her head, weaving through the gale. Her figure was so tiny compared to the golden bodies, yet wherever she passed, golden forms shattered and all spells turned to dust. Amidst resounding tremors, Siming's figure swept past all nine golden divine and demonic forms. Behind her, ancient generals stood with severed arms, demon lords with shattered horns, old monks with broken necks, heavenly maidens with scarred faces, wood spirits uprooted, immortals gashed, Buddhas with severed ears, emperors stripped of their crowns, and Arhats' golden bodies stripped of their radiance!

All nine divine beings showed varying degrees of damage, and the nine Yanghuang Azure Feather Swords were directly broken. Before the strongest of the nine golden bodies, Siming hovered, her right arm raised high as countless hurricanes gathered in her palm once more. The gales transformed into white waves of air, flying back in unison. Wherever they touched a golden body, golden fragments swirled like fireworks. The nine divine statues were pierced repeatedly, resembling riddled mountains, and finally began to slowly collapse.

Visible cracks also appeared on the Grand Sun Buddha Nation Scroll. Siming's exquisite face was slightly pale from excessive spiritual energy expenditure, but her fighting spirit truly reached its peak. The Golden-winged Great Peng's true form was right before her.

The sundial trembled, seemingly unable to sustain this vast temporal domain any longer, on the verge of collapse at any moment. But it was enough for her to unleash one final strike. With a clap of thunder, her figure vanished from its spot. The silver patterns on her divine robe glowed eerily, coating the sword in her hand with a silvery hue. The final, fully charged strike descended.

The Golden-winged Great Peng detected it, but it could not break free from the temporal quagmire. Although its movements were relatively swift, in Siming's eyes, they were as good as stationary. Hundreds of ethereal swords, accumulated for a long time, simultaneously struck down. This single strike was enough to severely wound the Golden-winged Great Peng.

However, Siming had miscalculated one thing: while the sundial could trap the Golden-winged Great Peng, it could not imprison the Ruyi Dark Iron Divine Rod. As a saint's sacred artifact, which had freely traversed various divine kingdoms with the saint, how could it be confined by a mere divine official's incomplete authority?

As the sword light descended, the Dark Iron Divine Rod blocked the Golden-winged Great Peng's path. Like a heavenly bell tolling, the impact reverberated through the clouds. However, the Dark Iron Divine Rod could only block that single strike. Although the other hundred swords were far less powerful than the hurricane, they bypassed the rod and shot towards the Golden-winged Great Peng's body like a hail of pear blossoms. The sundial, unable to sustain itself, disintegrated simultaneously, transforming into streams of light that flowed back into Siming's body.

The Golden-winged Great Peng's roar of pain echoed across the sky. It suddenly gripped the rod, pouring all its strength into it, and once again repelled Siming. After being barraged by hundreds of swords, even with its iron bones and steel sinews, it was inevitably covered in wounds. Its outstretched wings were riddled with countless bloodied holes, and gashes on its shoulders and back revealed white bone. The hand gripping the rod had been stripped of flesh, almost reduced to a mere bone. While the demonic race's physical regeneration was formidable, it had no time to tend to its wounds during the battle. Had it not been for the divine rod's sentience, its heart would have been pierced by that last strike.

"Halting time… Wasn't that a power only found in myths and legends, a force that transcended all elements? Why did this woman possess it?" The Golden-winged Great Peng stared at her perfect face, growing increasingly horrified. "Are you truly a divine official of a divine kingdom?" Besides this, the Golden-winged Great Peng could not conceive of any other plausible explanation.

Siming stared at the divine rod, pondering a way to counter it. "I've already told you," she replied coldly. "You're a mortal's hound, roaming the wilderness and soaring through clouds, having never witnessed the true sky... Let that young man go, and I may pardon your disrespect."

The image of the white-robed young man immediately flashed in the Golden-winged Great Peng's mind. At first, it had only thought of it as a mere opportunity, but the more it pondered, the more something felt wrong... The Golden Crow, weren't the nine Golden Crows who stole authority long extinct? Why did he carry such an object, and why was a divine official accompanying him?

A terrifying thought emerged. "Is he your lord? Did your divine kingdom collapse, forcing you into exile among mortals?" the Golden-winged Great Peng demanded, its voice chilling. No wonder the Myriad Demon Queen had rotated her astrolabe hundreds of times and still only predicted a ten percent chance of victory for him. How could mortal power triumph over true gods?

Siming, however, merely gave a faint, cool smile in response: "My lord? Hmph, is he worthy? I am his master!"

With the Buddha Nation Scroll and the Azure Feather Swords utterly destroyed, the sea of clouds revealed its original color. Above, although the Golden-winged Great Peng was severely wounded, its will remained unbroken. The Golden Crow was its destined path; on this journey, it would slay gods and Buddhas alike. The Golden-winged Great Peng fully spread its blood-stained golden wings. It unleashed all its lifelong knowledge: Grand Immortal Arts, Outer Body Technique, Thousand Shifting Arts... It believed that after Siming had used such god-like power, she too would be in a weakened state. It fought with its rod, seeking survival in the face of death.

Below, on the Quick-sand River, war drums had also begun to beat. Ning Changjiu's fleeing figure crossed the first Quick-sand River. He had been pursued all the way to this point. Although he had deliberately concealed his tracks, his route was still clearly perceived by the demon kings. He had barely fought his way across the Quick-sand River and had not yet found firm footing when an ambush arrived on the riverbank.

Several demon kings descended like divine soldiers, attacking together and forcing him back step by step. Ning Changjiu chose not to launch a direct assault; instead, he retreated with a ghostly flicker, disappearing over the vast river surface. Fearing they would be picked off individually, the great demons did not pursue deeply but instead guarded the major passes. Individually, they were no match for Ning Changjiu, but when they formed an impenetrable defense, they were not easily breached.

In the dim world, heavy rain poured down. In a stretch of rocky beach, Ning Changjiu concealed his presence and tended to his wounds. His injuries were not severe and recovered quickly with the aid of temporal authority. He gazed far ahead... Flames burned continuously in the downpour, and great demons in battle armor stood on high ground, like sentinels, scanning the rain for his tracks. The waters of the Quick-sand River surged behind him.

Ning Changjiu pondered for a moment, then etched a small flying formation into the rocky beach. Immediately, his figure slipped into the heavy rain like a fish, heading towards the other end of the Quick-sand River. He temporarily avoided the notice of the demons, sneaking beneath a large peak and hiding among the bushes. Ahead, hordes of demons patrolled, every plant and tree seeming like a soldier, marching past in square formations.

Ning Changjiu kept himself hidden, waiting until more than half of their assembly was complete. He then immediately summoned the Golden Crow. Its golden light pierced through the rain, appearing exceptionally dazzling in the dim world. The moment it appeared, it caused a massive uproar. Great chaos erupted at the foot of the peak as the incomplete demon army scrambled to search for enemies, throwing themselves into disarray.

This was a relatively weak point in the demon army's defenses. Once he revealed himself here, the demon forces from surrounding strongholds would swiftly come as reinforcements. At that point, by drawing the flying formation in reverse, he could return to the rocky beach and directly breach the now empty main fortress.

Meanwhile, at the rocky beach where Ning Changjiu had previously stood, a black-robed dog demon was fumbling through the heavy rain. This demon specialized in tracking. Though its magic was weak and its eyes were blind, its sense of smell was exceptionally keen. It was the very guide dog Ning Changjiu had encountered upon first arriving in the city. In peacetime, it was a dog demon that made a living by guiding guests. But with the outbreak of war, it suddenly became the demon army's "divine dog," capable of tracking targets for thousands of miles with ease. Ning Changjiu's movements had repeatedly been discovered thanks to its efforts.

It found the spot, sniffed at the small flying formation on the rocky beach for a moment, understood it was some kind of array, and without hesitation, swung a hammer to destroy it. At the same time, beneath the demon peak, Ning Changjiu, having created sufficient chaos, drew the flying formation in reverse. He returned to the rocky beach, appearing behind the guide dog demon. He had long suspected he was being tracked by some demon, so he deliberately drew two formations: one placed openly, the other hidden. The guide dog demon had only destroyed one of them. His action was also intended to flush out the demon that had been tracking him.

Ning Changjiu looked at it, slightly surprised. He swung his hand like a blade and struck the demon's back neck, knocking it unconscious. Ning Changjiu did not linger. He moved close to the ground, stealthily heading towards the stone fortress ahead. By the time the demons realized they had been lured away, it was too late to return to defend. Ning Changjiu had breached their defenses with ease, as if walking on flat ground.

Beyond this peak lay Chechi Peak, which consisted of three peaks, all formidable natural strongholds ahead. All three peaks were heavily guarded by the three great Immortals: Deer Power, Tiger Power, and Goat Power. Among them, Tiger Power Immortal was the most powerful. Likewise, the Tiger Power Immortal was the most arrogant, considering itself an elite and believing that even if the opponent breached the Quick-sand River, they would first attack the Deer Power and Goat Power Immortals. However, it never expected that Ning Changjiu had headed directly for its own peak.

The golden Asura Dharma body illuminated the raindrops clearly. The white-robed young man, carving bamboo into a sword, arrived directly outside the mountain gate array and challenged the Tiger Power Immortal. Such crude and aggressive demons were easily provoked. The Tiger Power Immortal quickly emerged, swinging its giant axe. Ning Changjiu held nothing back in the fight, forcing it to retreat step by step until it was driven back into its mountain-protecting formation.

As Ning Changjiu appeared at the Tiger Power Immortal's peak, the other two relaxed their guard. The moment the Tiger Power Immortal withdrew, Ning Changjiu drew the flying formation in reverse, arriving at the mountain path guarded by the Goat Power Immortal, and fought his way through. He had to push through in one continuous assault, otherwise, if the several Five Paths great demons learned of his presence and emerged from their mountains, the consequences would be dire. Xiaoling's life was still tied to this sword; he had to get it out of Myriad Demon City.

Torrential rain lashed the entire city. The clouds pressed lower and lower, and without the support of great formations, all the major peaks would have been submerged by the thunderclouds. This, to some extent, demonstrated the ferocity of the divine battle raging above the sea of clouds. Even with his golden eyes open, Ning Changjiu couldn't clearly see the battle above. However, his Golden Crow had a subtle connection with Siming's Moon Sparrow, and he felt no ominous premonition.

The battle continued. Within Ning Changjiu, the Ancient Pure Yang Divine Scroll was fully ignited. The power it granted far exceeded his initial expectations. Ning Changjiu wasn't sure if this was a desperate measure, but everything within him—his Asura golden body, and everything coursing through his bloodline—began to burn, fueled by the ancient scroll he had obtained in his dream. The ancient secret arts recorded in those scrolls also merged into his flesh and blood. He charged over one mountain peak after another, using the small flying formation to shift left and right, disrupting the demon army's perceptions.

The second Quick-sand River appeared before him. The Quick-sand River was a river of ten thousand demons within Myriad Demon City. It flowed through several large peaks, forming a shape resembling the Chinese character for "mountain." To reach the outer city, Ning Changjiu had to cross the Quick-sand River three times. This was why the Azure Lion and White Elephant had previously believed he couldn't pass the Quick-sand River. Once he began crossing the river, his previously well-concealed presence would be exposed. Furthermore, with peaks densely arranged around the Quick-sand River, crossing it without alerting anyone would be incredibly difficult.

Problems always seemed to outweigh solutions, but Ning Changjiu had no time to ponder the many issues he faced. Without a word, he opted for brute force over cunning. The closer he got to the outer city, the more ferocious his attacks became. He had no intention of retreating. Because he knew that his greatest shortcut out of the city was not between the peaks, but within his own body. He was only a step away from the Five Paths. He sought to achieve a breakthrough through continuous combat, believing that once he entered the Five Paths, all problems would be easily resolved.

Between the peaks, chaos reigned. Demon kings guarding the mountains all emerged to block this external enemy, who charged like a wild ox yet darted about like a bat. Unbeknownst to them, a day had passed. Night fell, and Myriad Demon City, already shrouded in darkness, became utterly pitch black.

Ning Changjiu did not bother the ordinary demon soldiers. Adhering to the principle of "capturing the leader to capture the rebels," he only targeted the commanders of each peak. As night descended, he continued to fight among the peaks, engaging the Purple Court Realm demon kings guarding them, sometimes with evasive maneuvers, sometimes in direct combat. The Ancient Pure Yang Divine Scroll continuously burned, supplying him with power. He moved unpredictably through the peaks, leveraging the flexibility of the flying formation, even fighting with a certain ease at times. The demon kings, however, dared not relax for a moment, constantly fearing that Ning Changjiu would appear behind them like a ghost.

After a day of fierce fighting, Ning Changjiu was indeed getting closer to the outer city. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled intermittently in the sky. The battle above clearly hadn't ceased. In that clash of Five Paths peak powers, phenomena surged, and dark clouds were periodically sliced apart. Ning Changjiu, peering through gaps in the clouds, occasionally caught glimpses of the battle above. Chaotic flames burned throughout Myriad Demon City, yet there was no activity at Tianzhu Peak, where the four great demon kings had gathered. The Nine-Spirited Sage remained watching the battle. He wasn't concerned with the secret of the Golden Crow; to him, the Yu Lei was not a true divine artifact. His sole focus was the battle above.

Half the night passed. Ning Changjiu's journey was fraught with difficulties. When he looked up again, the three characters "Seven Absolutes Peak" stood prominently before his eyes. His white robes were torn, and he was covered in blood, yet his body trembled uncontrollably. Seven Absolutes Peak... This was the last mountain peak before the outer city. He had actually fought his way here... Ning Changjiu himself didn't know how he had managed it. But that was not important. Since the three bends of the Quick-sand River couldn't stop him, the outer city certainly wouldn't.

He only needed to escape Myriad Demon City, then send the agreed-upon signal to Siming. At that point, she would immediately cease engaging the Great Peng Demon Saint and swiftly rendezvous with him. Together, they would flee outside the city, where, under the vast sky and boundless sea, no one could stop them.

On Seven Absolutes Cliff, the Mist Demon King was dead. He had used the Golden Crow to devour all the ghostly mist, ascending the sheer cliff. Ahead, the sparsely defended outer city lay within sight. As Ning Changjiu headed for the outer city, by some strange impulse, he glanced back at the surging Quick-sand River. That single glance nearly made his soul scatter.

East of the Quick-sand River, on the previously deserted rocky stretch, a towering figure had abruptly appeared. That figure, with its back to Seven Absolutes Peak, didn't appear particularly tall, but even from a great distance, Ning Changjiu could sense an almost destructive aura emanating from it. Five Paths peak! Around the black figure's head, eight ghostly flames flickered, each resembling a lion. It was the Nine-Spirited Sage. He had emerged from the Demon God Hall on Tianzhu Peak and arrived outside the Quick-sand River.

Ning Changjiu's nerves were taut. But the other party's target was not him. The Nine-Spirited Sage stood by the endlessly flowing river, raising its head. Its authority was similar to the Golden-winged Great Peng's, both inheriting the sky-devouring power of the Taotie lineage. But unlike the Golden-winged Great Peng, it had not spoken for a hundred years.

In the eyes of the divine kingdom, it was a dog whose edges had long been smoothed, willing only to guard a single city. In the Golden-winged Great Peng's eyes, it was a stone lion that had willingly dulled its fangs, abandoned its divine abilities, and sought nothing. Even the Saint had left it a sacred umbrella, advising it to prioritize guardianship. But it had always buried its deepest thoughts in its heart. It never wanted to be an umbrella; it wanted to be the wind and rain that filled the sky.

The Golden-winged Great Peng often spoke of killing Ke Wenzhou, shattering the Middle-earth, and rescuing the Saint. But the Nine-Spirited Sage knew that the Golden-winged Great Peng lacked the drive for such feats. Its limit was merely to use its physical body to forge another Myriad Demon City, to prolong the demon race's meager existence for another century, and then quietly await destruction. The Nine-Spirited Sage did not wish to merely endure; it was the one who truly desired to break through Middle-earth.

East of the Quick-sand River, it did not open its sacred iron umbrella, merely keeping it on its back. In Buddhism, there was a practice called "Closed-Mouth Zen," where one chewed off their tongue and swallowed it, and after decades, when they spoke again, their Buddha-voice would be immensely profound. And it, too, had not swallowed a single thing for a hundred years. All nine lion heads had been hungry for a century. When it finally spoke, what heaven-devouring power would it unleash? It did not know itself.

It stood by the Quick-sand River, facing the lightning-flashed clouds, and let out a lion's roar.