Chapter 87: The Land of Demon Suppression

At the signal of the old monk’s eyes, Guan Wen looked down toward the depths of the earth.

The crystal platform had originally been grey, but as Guan Wen fixed his gaze intently upon a single point, the area beneath the platform began to glow. He saw that the crystal body was unfathomably deep, with no end in sight at the edges of his field of vision. Floating in the endless void was a mass of dark cloud.

The cloud was not stationary; the moment Guan Wen noticed it, it suddenly surged upward, flying at breakneck speed directly beneath the platform.

Guan Wen now saw clearly that it was a bewitching woman draped in black robes, flashing a sweet, enchanting, and lovely smile up at him. Her hair was extremely long, as black as thick ink, undulating and dancing in mid-air together with her skirt.

"Take me out, take me away from here, take me with you, please, will you? Take me away..." Her large eyes flickered as if they could speak. Without opening her mouth, Guan Wen heard a plea so tender it chilled him to the bone, "Good man, take me away. I only want to live a good life, to be a beast of burden for you, to serve you for all eternity, to obey your every command, to be your woman alone... Take me away, and I will be yours, yours alone..."

"Who are you?" Confusion stirred in the depths of Guan Wen’s heart, and he could not help asking with his eyes. He had never seen such a bewitching woman and found himself involuntarily captivated by her.

"I do not know. Ever since I awoke from a nightmare, I have been imprisoned here all alone. It is cold and dark, and there is no one to keep me company or speak with me. Good man, I know you have the kindest heart; will you take me away? I beg of you—" The woman moved as close to Guan Wen as she could, raising her face to gaze at him with humility, intense focus, and utter helplessness.

Guan Wen’s heart was pierced with pain. His eyes grew misty, and in a daze, the woman’s visage transformed into that of Baoling.

"Take me away, good man. You are my hero..." It sounded vaguely like Baoling’s voice.

"Save me, Guan Wen, save me..." In the blink of an eye, the voice shifted to that of Gu Qingcheng.

Guan Wen snapped back to his senses. The voices of Baoling and Gu Qingcheng were entirely distinct; he could never believe that the two of them would be imprisoned together underground, speaking with two voices from a single body. In truth, Gu Qingcheng’s image was deeply rooted in his heart, acting like a sword bearing the divine power of warding off evil. The mere thought of her steadied his mind, beating back the bewitchment of the demonic entity.

"You are merely yourself; you can never be Qingcheng," he "spoke" with his eyes.

"Good man, I know I am infinitely humble. I ask only to stay by your side, only to leave this place. My heart hurts so much; I only ask that you hold me and give me a shred of warmth..." The woman’s gaze grew even more pitiful as she suddenly tugged at the ribbons across her chest, revealing snow-white breasts.

"You are only yourself. Humans and demons cannot coexist; put away these tricks," Guan Wen said.

He was a man, and his character inevitably bore the weaknesses of a man, which was why he had fallen under the other’s spell and nearly gone astray. However, his heart was already occupied by Gu Qingcheng and Baoling, leaving no spare room to accommodate a third woman, allowing him to narrowly break through the Rakshasa witch's first assault.

"Will you truly not help me? Good man, can you truly be so cruel?" The woman retreated a dozen meters, then suddenly lunged forward, raising her arms and aggressively spreading her half-foot-long fingernails. Her expression was one of desperate hatred, as if she longed to instantly pierce the barrier and tear Guan Wen to shreds.

That beautiful and bewitching face also transformed, suddenly turning into a demonic visage with green skin and sharp fangs, howling hideously at Guan Wen.

"If you will not help me, if you will not help me, then the moment my period of tribulation ends and I break out, I will slaughter everyone without mercy, every living creature! Hahaha, hahahaha, hahahahahahaha..." The ghostly witch shrieked crazily, charging left and right in the air, forever striking the invisible wall until her head was bloody and bruised, rendering her utterly hideous.

As the witch somersaulted in mid-air, Guan Wen abruptly noticed that slumped upon her back was a figure clad in dark red monastic robes. The body was as withered and emaciated as a skeleton, with both hands choking the witch's throat and legs locked tightly around her ribs, motionless, half-dead and half-living.

"Help me now, and I can spare your life, bestow all the treasures of the world upon you, and grant you the richest and happiest of days. If you do not help me, the moment I break out, you shall be the very first I seize. I will subject you to every form of torture until you wish you were dead, until you curse your fate and would rather be a tiny insect in your next life than ever be born a human again..." Charging back and forth, the witch could neither breach the crystal barrier nor shake off the monk’s restraints. Abruptly, she plunged downward, vanishing into the infinite distance.

"Whose body is that upon the witch's back?" Guan Wen suddenly felt a profound desolation fill his heart, for he had realized with absolute clarity that it was none other than Doga Gyatso—the very same person resting obliquely before them.

"It is me," the old monk said, his eyes filled with a bitter, poignant smile.

He slowly sat up, adjusted his monastic robes, and crossed his legs in meditation.

Little Huo and Gao Xiang, who had been standing behind Guan Wen, leaped up almost simultaneously and cried out, "That was close! That was too close!"

"I saw the witch—she was the epitome of evil and ugliness, charging frantically beneath the earth, and she came within a hair's breadth of breaking through the crystal barrier. That means we have very little time left!" Little Huo said with a solemn and stern expression.

"At first, I saw an exceptionally alluring woman who instantly turned into a demon—terrifying, utterly terrifying..." Gao Xiang added, still harboring lingering fear.

"Demons are born from the heart. Whatever you saw were merely illusions cast by the witch's spiritual power onto the mirror of your minds. Young man over there, your mental fortitude is truly top-tier; even the demon witch could not seduce you. Not bad, not bad," the old monk said, fixing his gaze on Little Huo with an expression of approval.

Little Huo’s expression, however, grew even heavier. "Senior, how do we vanquish the demon? Please enlighten us."

The old monk smiled faintly. "I truly cannot help you... In truth, I have already—"

Guan Wen took a deep breath and finished the sentence for him: "In truth, the 'Mind-Dragon Demon-Subduing Hand' jointly unleashed by the seventy sages of Tibet was forged using the lives of those seventy individuals. The moment you struck the witch down into the earth veins, you all perished together, perishing alongside the demon. The bodies and souls of those people vanished like flowing sand, and only your soul survived. Is that not so?"

This was the only explanation, for the real Doga Gyatso had been sealed beneath the crystal platform simultaneously with the witch.

The old monk nodded. "Precisely. The only thing that needs clarification is that the 'Mind-Dragon Demon-Subduing Hand' was originally a secret art that transmits power through thought. The seventy of us utilized the 'Heavenly Mind Telepathy' of Tibetan Buddhism to achieve a merging of minds and a unity of spiritual strength; we used the 'Heavenly Eye Telepathy' to prevent the witch from escaping and force her back into the earth veins; and we used the 'Heavenly Ear Telepathy' to listen to the witch's breathing, pinpoint her hiding place, and then strike with all our might to form a crystal barrier that reaches from the earth to the heavens, blocking the earth veins and sealing her away. The reason my soul does not perish is because I carry within me the power of the seventy sages, allowing me to shoulder the ultimate burden of 'demon-subduing,' breathing the same breath and sharing life and death with the witch until the very last moment when my power is exhausted."

His existence was neither living nor dead, and worse than death itself; he existed merely in a half-soul, half-illusionary state.

"I will slaughter the world... I will kill every living creature under heaven... Those who release me shall attain eternal life..." The witch's voice echoed from beneath the crystal platform, rousing the pool water on all sides into waves several丈 high at the provocation of her curses. The aquatic weeds that Little Huo had poisoned to death fluttered about in mid-air, resembling the grey tattered robes of the Rakshasa witch.

This scene was the real-life enactment of "The Fisherman and the Genie" from *One Thousand and One Nights*. Having exhausted all her seductive methods to no avail, the witch had dropped her disguise and revealed her true nature.

"I will draw the largest Mandala, lure the witch into its center, and then detonate the explosives to blast her to smithereens—this is the ultimate wisdom taught to me by countless predecessors who died subduing demons. Master, give me some time, and I will construct the largest maze-like Mandala in history to serve as the burial place of the Rakshasa witch. When I give the signal, you shall lift the seal of the 'Mind-Dragon Demon-Subduing Hand' and allow the witch to break through and emerge," Guan Wen said calmly and steadily.

In extraordinary times, extraordinary figures would always deploy extraordinary gambits in order to turn the tide and control the outcome of the war.

Guan Wen believed that he was that very person.

Perhaps when he first set out westward from Jinan, he had never imagined becoming a grand hero whose "loyal heart shines in the annals of history." But driven by fate and the circumstances of the times, he had been pushed to this position, and he would resolutely take up the heavy burden without a single thought of shrinking back.

"Can you do it?" the old monk asked.

Guan Wen nodded without uttering a single word.

The old monk shook his head. "This is an incomparably difficult decision. Concerning the safety of the Tibetan region, I must answer to the seventy sages of yesteryear. Young man, I have perused the most ancient texts concerning the Tibetan King Songtsen Gampo. The method he employed was identical to yours: taking Lhasa as the core, using the four mountain ranges surrounding [redacted] as veins, and utilizing the five great sacred lakes of Tibet as the array eyes of the Mandala, he constructed a Mandala consisting of more than a hundred layers of inside and outside, front and back, top and bottom, and over three hundred facets. For this, he exhausted nearly all his mental capacity and shortened his life by fifteen years. However, no matter how large a Mandala is, it cannot trap the witch. Her body can grow with the wind, reaching up to the azure sky and probing down to the deep abyss, tearing the Mandala drawn by the Tibetan King into shreds. It was only thanks to Princess Wencheng casting the twelve-year-old life-sized Buddha statue of Shakyamuni, and Princess Chijun casting the eight-year-old life-sized Buddha statue of Shakyamuni, that the witch was successfully suppressed and sealed within the earth veins. If you once again propose the plan of subduing the demon through a Mandala, I fear you will not achieve your wish."

Guan Wen pondered for a few seconds before answering with utmost solemnity: "Senior, I will do everything in my power."

Little Huo chimed in from the side: "Senior, from the black hole entrance all the way here, we have planted over four thousand explosive charges. If Guan Wen fails to subdue the demon, we will detonate the explosives immediately, turning this place into a tomb of death where everyone perishes together with the witch."

Only those who cast life and death aside could utter such fearless, transcendent words of grand heroism. Because of this, Guan Wen’s trust in Little Huo deepened another layer.

"You have no certainty?" the old monk asked again.

Guan Wen replied with the utmost caution: "Indeed, there is no certainty, but senior's seal of the 'Mind-Dragon Demon-Subduing Hand' cannot hold out much longer. We have no better choice; we must take the risk and play our winning gambit."

As if to corroborate Guan Wen’s words, the witch flew forth from the distant darkness like a high-speed missile, violently crashing into the crystal barrier. The platform, the pond, and even the colosseum-like outer space all shook with a thunderous roar, wringing a gasp of shock from everyone present. With this impact, the monk clinging to the witch's back was shaken loose and flung off.

"Ah, this is bad!" Gao Xiang cried out in alarm.

Beneath the barrier, the monk tumbled toward the gloom, thrashing his limbs as if he had already lost all signs of life.

"I have done my best," the old monk sighed with desolate grief.

Guan Wen watched helplessly as the witch made a dive, scooped the monk’s body into her grasp, turned back into the fray, and while flying, roared in fury as she tore the body into a dozen pieces and shoved an arm into her mouth to chew savagely.

Throughout the entire process, not a single drop of blood flowed from that body, for during the centuries-long imprisonment, all the physical and mental strength within the monk had been channeled into his arms, leaving his entire being completely exhausted and dry.

"Everyone prepare, we must begin immediately." Guan Wen stepped back and drew a fine fox-hair brush from his sleeve.

"Forgive me, everyone, I have done my best. This is my ultimate end. I must depart, joining the souls of the seventy sages... to enter the eternal world of the void... leaving no trace behind. Only you can prove that I... once walked this earth, that I was once among the demon-subduers... that I was once glorious, fighting a battle to the death against the Rakshasa witch for the sake of the people of Tibet..."

With a soft crack, the old monk’s body burst apart, transforming into hundreds of fragments. Like the highest-grade white phosphorus, the fragments ignited the moment they touched the ground, turning into hundreds of wisps of fine white smoke. This smoke was the final soul form of the old monk and the seventy sages. As the mist dispersed, the demon-subduer Doga Gyatso vanished forever.