Chapter 939: 慕容

The mighty river surged, its north bank ablaze with dazzling light. Rows of monks stood silently. Within the clouds, indistinct golden figures, varying in form and appearance according to their cultivation and rank, flickered in and out of view in the sky.

At the highest point, a crimson true fire surged continuously, converging to form a long arched bridge. Spiritual flames ascended, crawling up both sides of the archway, and at its center, they coalesced into a six-sided pavilion perched atop the bridge structure, engulfed in rolling red flames.

A long-faced man in golden robes sat in the pavilion, leaning against a table. His hands were clasped together, his right hand loosely holding a pair of jade chopsticks, with which he idly sifted through the four small dishes on the table.

On both sides of the arched bridge, armored soldiers knelt. They were not living beings, but purely constructed from blazing fire, resembling suspended fiery armors, their golden, fiery eyes hidden beneath the helmets, giving them an eerie appearance.

After a moment, a man approached from the mountains. He was burly and robust, with a waist as thick as a barrel, a face covered in tangled hair, and purple-black cheeks. He strode in unceremoniously and plonked himself down opposite the long-faced man.

With a flick of his thick, fleshy fingers, the burly man produced a pair of silver chopsticks and immediately began to pluck at the dishes. This annoyed the long-faced man, who slammed his chopsticks down with a clap and cursed: "What barbarous manners!"

"What's wrong?" The thick-waisted strongman shot him an unceremonious glance and replied: "Are you not a barbarian? Or am I not a barbarian?"

This remark immediately silenced the thin-faced man. He let out a "Hmph" and retorted: "We are now masters of the Central Plains, and the Murong family has no shortage of handsome men. How did they produce a crude, uncouth fellow like you, Murong Yan? That name is wasted on you. When you come south, people will talk... mentioning the past of the Northern Di."

The thick-waisted strongman sneered: "Jiangnan is also half the world. It wasn't necessarily inferior to the north back then. You Central Plains folks constantly call us Southern barbarians, but did anyone speak up when True Lord Shangyuan traveled north or when Duanmu Kui acted tyrannically? Even Jiang Boqing dared to trifle with princes and marquises... What 'dignity' are you talking about?" Shangyuan was now a True Lord, so even when mentioning him, they could only refer to his 'northern travels.' They were much less polite about Duanmu Kui. Despite their bickering, their private friendship was deep. Murong Yan picked up two mouthfuls of food and simply said: "Bai Lin is on the opposite bank. If Daoist friend Shilou--"

"It's not that I'm afraid of him," Shilou Yingge's eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn't easily provoked by the other's words, his tone flat: "The Bright Yang Dao is a lineage that favors grand achievement and reveres power. The strong get stronger, and the weak get weaker. Even if he doesn't master all five arts, should he encounter a Purple Mansion cultivator with a hint of minor accomplishment, let alone me, even Qi Lanyan would have to deliberate here... As for now... he has just broken through to the Purple Mansion, his life-essence not yet complete. Ultimately, he's merely an initial-stage Purple Mansion cultivator with some divine aspects. You alone could heavily pressure him, let alone with me added."

Murong Yan burst into laughter, his fleshy face contorting. He replied: "You've calculated well. When I heard about him some time ago, I was still rather disdainful... thinking that with his destiny, and Bright Yang in such a state, how much augmentation could he truly receive? It's not as if having destiny means you don't need to practice secret arts or cultivation methods. Emperor Wei didn't rely on destiny to suppress the world... and few of the Wei princes back then could claim to suppress their peers, let alone today? However, I heard that Helian Wumeng, a genius from the Tiefu Kingdom who has recently risen to prominence, engaged him in combat. Even without a spiritual artifact, Helian Wumeng couldn't easily defeat him... That's what made me take him a bit more seriously."

Murong Yan himself was a genius of the Murong family. The north was vast, its population far greater than the south. Numerous royal, imperial, and immortal lineages gathered there, intermarrying and spreading their bloodlines widely. To emerge from these myriad lineages and ultimately achieve the Purple Mansion realm was, in itself, a first-rate accomplishment. What was even rarer was that the Northern Dao lineages alone possessed the rich legacy left by the many shattered Heavenly Dynasties, Immortal Sects, and Immortal Gates of old. Whether spiritual artifacts or bloodlines, how could they compare to the disciples gathered by the Sun Dao lineage, which had fled south to develop barbarian lands? If not for the Sun Dao lineage's origins from Qing Song Temple, acquiring a few magical and spiritual treasures through ancestral connections, and if the North hadn't been disunited, they wouldn't have had to struggle so much all these years. For so many years, the North and South had been in conflict and friction. Frankly, the North had always seen a few Buddhist cultivators eyeing profit, descending south independently. There were even few large-scale Purple Mansion battles; most of the forces used were rogue cultivators from the lower realms. Yet, this had already been enough to force nearly all of Yue Kingdom's Dao lineages to unite, indicating a considerable power disparity from the start.

‘Apart from Yu Zhen Zunwei and those few inhuman beings like Duanmu Kui... the Three Primes and Two Purples are all tolerable. But as for now... there really isn't anyone worth seeing in the South!’

Shilou Yingge stopped using his chopsticks and simply poured himself a drink. He replied: "Helian Wumeng is a genius, but also unproven. Should he one day cross the Immortal Threshold, don the Grand Xia Ying Bronze Armor, wield the Myriad City Dominion, and then consume the Edict Iron Pills refined by Helian Fan, perhaps only that young master of the Tuoba family could compare. At that point, you and I... would both be inferior to him."

These words made Murong Yan's eyes widen, but precisely because these spiritual treasures were so renowned, he found it difficult to retort. He could only narrow his eyes, the fierce look fading, and coldly stated: "His ancestors were magnificent, but now his family is in decline. There's no peerless genius to share spiritual artifacts with him. If all the many treasures of my Murong family were held by one person, who could stand against him?"

"That's beside the point!" Shilou Yingge shook his head and said: "If you argue that way, why don't you say you were born into the Murong family, rather than into a commoner's or tenant farmer's home? Furthermore, your Murong family's prestige today is solely due to the benevolence of Emperor Xuan, and cannot be compared to his family at all!"

The Murong family was one of the biggest beneficiaries among the Northern Di. Back then, they had been defeated by the Qi family in the Heavenly Dynasty conflict, originally teetering on the brink, and were bewildered during the Three Sects Rebellion. Fortunately, fate decreed a revival, and Emperor Xuan of Yan, Murong Xie, emerged. This emperor accepted his mandate in a time of crisis, first using military force to subdue the three sects, then issuing an edict: "Buddhists follow the graded path of cultivation and verification, which is the Great Dao. Demonic cultivators preserve their nature and practice their arts... Immortal cultivators mend the methods of divine abilities, returning to their origin, and likewise do not lose their honored status." This edict, known as the Edict of Emperor Xuan, redefined immortal and demonic cultivation as advanced techniques, while designating Buddhist cultivation as the true path of verification, shifting worship towards the Path of Compassion. From then on, the Daoist order in Yan State was clearly delineated: those with good innate talent cultivated immortal and demonic arts. When their lifespans neared their end, and they possessed certain divine abilities, they could then turn to the Path of Compassion. Though not always successful, they gained considerable rewards, and their accumulated experience grew richer. Once Buddhist Dao became a possible path for Purple Mansion and Heterodox Mansion cultivators, conflicts within it rapidly eased—after all, no matter how demanding, no one would object to having an extra retreat in dire straits. The Path of Compassion, with its doctrine of broad tolerance and mutual accomplishment, grew unchecked from then on. The expansion of Buddhist lands was extremely fast, and on their own path, they developed unique marvels distinct from other Buddhist cultivators, subtly vying for the position of the Seven Prime. Although competition within Buddhist lands was fierce due to over-expansion, making their position less stable and harder to maintain for centuries than the other Six Phases, the Murong family, through adversity, rose step by step to its peak. Now, with achievements in demonic, Buddhist, and immortal arts, and with demonic and Buddhist paths complementing each other, Murong Yan naturally had the right to speak as he did.

He then turned and said: "Helian Wumeng has penetrated deep into our territory, so he definitely won't use his full strength. His Tiefu Kingdom ranks lowest among the princes, and he wouldn't dare act rashly. I already said he's unproven, so a draw is normal. You now have no worries behind you, so go fight him! Your divine abilities are more extensive than his, and you have more spiritual artifacts. I hear he doesn't even have a suitable weapon. Just be mindful... the current situation is unclear. We are both merely probing. Don't harbor murderous intent, and don't pursue too deeply."

He said faintly: "Helian Wumeng has already reached Xuanyuan Temple, probing that Zhu Palace from the Xuanyuan Temple area... Never mind that she's injured, even if she were unharmed, she wouldn't gain any advantage against Helian Wumeng. Yishu... Tinglan will definitely go." When he mentioned True Person Tinglan, his gaze became somewhat complex. After all, she was also from Qi, and they had known each other in earlier years... At this moment, he merely skimmed over it, replying: "Even so, I will still guard your rear, to prevent the remaining few of the Sun Dao lineage from playing any tricks."

Murong Yan's expression remained unchanged as he nodded: "The armies of the various Dao lineages haven't arrived yet. This is just a test." He transformed into demonic smoke and dispersed, leaving Shilou Yingge sitting alone in the pavilion, his expression gradually becoming serene.

‘Luoxia seems to be washing his hands of it, his attitude is truly ambiguous... Although Murong Yan says the Wuguang Dao lineage doesn't want to be passive... it looks disdainful no matter how I see it. And the Northern interests are so entangled and chaotic. Even if a consensus is reached... there's still plenty of room for manipulation in the end... Regarding Li Qianyuan, various factions hold different attitudes: some are radical, some moderate, and there's even one side that's somewhat favorable... But delaying Emperor Wei's demise is something everyone tacitly agrees on... If the Wuguang Dao lineage delays its intervention, the various families won't just be extracting benefits anymore...’

He raised his cup. He didn't seem to harbor much animosity towards the Li family on the opposite bank, nor did he exhibit the rumored insistence on restoring the Shilou's former appearance. All his actions appeared to stem from a political stance, his eyes holding only a faint, cold glint:

‘The King doesn't care... but I cannot afford not to care. The future of the Gao family is in our hands... Now even the Cui family is protecting themselves wisely. If we stubbornly insist on what we call ancestral benevolence, it will surely push my Gao family into the abyss... During the chaotic times at the end of Liang, my family already lost once... leaving only superficial splendor... If we lose again this time... the Gao clan will cease to exist!’

The Great River.

Ominous demonic energy constantly surged in the air, transforming into gusts of cold wind. The thick-waisted strongman materialized. With a slight pause, the demonic energy shifted, becoming bright, shining armor that attached itself piece by piece to his body.

His expression, however, showed no excitement for the impending battle. The eyes nestled within his fleshy cheeks lacked their previous impudence and recklessness, instead being calm as water, filled with meticulous thought.

‘This is truly a rare opportunity...’

He stood thus above the river's waters, surging demonic energy mingled with colorless, hazy brilliance swirling around him, rising to the sky and rapidly turning the northern heavens a pale gray.

Earth-shattering cheers erupted from below, but Murong Yan's gaze was fixed straight ahead.

Almost instantly, a man clad in golden scale armor, with the Huayang King's Axe at his waist, stood on the towering cliff by the riverbank. He gazed from afar, his golden eyes piercing through, bringing a distinct smile to Murong Yan's face.

The demonic smoke on the riverbank grew denser. Without a word, he slowly raised his hand and drew forth a long weapon from the void. This object resembled a sword, but its hilt, shaped like an open-mouthed iron dragon, was a solid, rounded hard iron pillar. It was segmented like pieced-together bones, about four feet long, a section longer than an ordinary treasured sword.

After only a moment, his figure vanished from its spot. The surging demonic smoke from the riverbank surged forth like a tide in response, howling as it came. Then, a thunderous voice exploded in mid-air: "Murong Yan of Yan, comes to seek guidance!"

At the same time, invisible, hazy water rapidly converged, enveloping the sky in a vast, curtain-like brilliance that shimmered in and out of sight.

Divine Ability: Evil Morning!

Murong Yan was certainly no benevolent figure. Even if he estimated his opponent wasn't his match and he possessed an additional divine ability, since he couldn't guarantee an absolute crushing victory, he showed no politeness. As his spiritual artifact struck, his rolling divine ability instantly enveloped the area. The light between heaven and earth dimmed instantly. People and horses on both banks thoughtfully raised their heads. Though the sun was bright and high in the sky, its dazzling rays could not reach the ground, leaving both banks in a dim haze. This dimness was not like darkness; though hazy, everything was visible, yet colors were no longer vibrant, appearing dull and lifeless.

Only the pair of golden eyes on the cliff remained bright. Within the divine ability's influence, Li Zhouwei's perception was the keenest. The moment his opponent unleashed his full power, the moist air assaulting him made everything clear:

‘Yin Water... it's the Yin Water divine ability.’

In the oppressive dimness, Li Zhouwei's various divine abilities and magical power within him became sluggish. Yin Water was a path of manifestation, and his opponent was a direct descendant of the Murong family's Purple Mansion. This divine ability, with its sealing effect, seized the initiative! The golden-eyed man's invocation of his divine ability was momentarily delayed. Murong Yan's spiritual artifact had already struck before him. The oddly shaped iron weapon, trailing surging demonic smoke, rushed forward, but Li Zhouwei only had time to slightly turn his body and step back.

Murong Yan was not surprised. His Evil Morning was inherently an initiative-seizing divine ability, and the more his opponent fell into his rhythm, the more effective its influence became! The spiritual artifact in his hand did not miss, merely deflecting slightly. And it wasn't just Li Zhouwei gaining reaction time by retreating; Murong Yan's other hand immediately began to cast a spell!

But in that instant, Li Zhouwei halted his retreating steps, raised his hand, and a large hand shot through the surging demonic wind, swift as lightning, actually reaching for Murong Yan's neck.

‘How audacious! My demonic cultivator's body, why would I shy away from exchanging blows with you!’

Murong Yan's eyes flickered with color, the spell in his hand paused, and he immediately converted his hand into a palm to receive the blow. His divine ability surged more intensely. Yet, he saw the man opposite him raise his other hand, using his wrist to block his spiritual artifact. There was a brilliant glow within his sleeve armor, and an inconspicuous golden ring on his wrist.

He did not use a spiritual treasure, but met it with the true form of the Qianyang Bracelet!

"Boom!"

A dull clang of colliding spiritual artifacts sounded. A point of light, accompanied by sparks, burst forth. The spiritual treasure, stimulated, emitted a myriad of brilliant rays, and all the dimness was suddenly illuminated. The frozen heavenly light finally resumed its flow. Li Zhouwei's form dispersed and reformed close by. The demonic winds blowing towards him dissipated on his Dharma body, and a brilliant light ignited on his brow. Murong Yan, however, did not pause, nor did he show any surprise. He looked directly into Li Zhouwei's golden eyes. Surging demonic winds blew towards Li Zhouwei's face, and a hissing sound emanated from Murong Yan's lips and tongue. One could faintly perceive something alien wriggling within.

‘Edict!’