Chapter Eighty-Nine: Azure Dragon Society, Golden Cicada

Tang Jue, you cannot control her—stop dreaming. The conflict within the martial world is merely a battle among humans; but if we fail to eradicate the demon today, humanity will face catastrophe. Don’t miscalculate and bring about a disaster that shakes the heavens! Guan Wen still harbored hopes for Tang Jue, wishing she would return to the right path.

“I certainly can—after I mastered the secret art of ‘Eight Lives, Eight Deaths of the Heavenly Dragon,’ I became half-human, half-demon, half-mortal, half-immortal. Every martial artist knows that after consuming a thousand-year-old lingzhi and a humanoid polygonum, one’s powers surge by centuries in an instant. Now, in my eyes, the Rakshasa Witch is nothing more than a humanoid polygonum, brimming with unimaginable energy. If I devour her, I will gain the power to endlessly duplicate worlds, stars, universes, and meta-universes. I will be the sole master of space and time—invincible, eternal, imperishable—”

A swift blade cleaved from behind, sending Tang Jue’s head soaring three meters into the air, her mouth still uttering: “To become the god of creation, to become…”

As her head fell, Gao Xiang leapt and, like a footballer striking a goal, kicked the bloodied head towards the pond.

The Ghost Hand appeared again, snatching the head and delivering it to the witch’s side.

It was Gao Xiang who had beheaded Tang Jue. He frowned slightly, gazing at the headless corpse, and spoke three words: “I want it too.”

“Gao Xiang, what did you say?” Bao Ling, closest to Gao Xiang, puzzled by his words, couldn’t help but ask.

Gao Xiang raised his head, waving his hand with a half-smile: “Don’t misunderstand. I didn’t kill Tang Jue to save you. In fact, I am Jin Chan Zi from the Azure Dragon Society, the only true protagonist in this demon-slaying drama. It was I who blocked Tang Jue from slaughtering you in the Summer Palace, because the secret art he boasted about—‘Eight Lives, Eight Deaths of the Heavenly Dragon’—cannot fully seize the memory root in Guan Wen’s mind. In other words, amid all the twists and turns, only Guan Wen is irreplaceable. I knew this even before I incited Master Tianjiu to lead the sages from the twelve temples of five nations to challenge Zashlunbu Monastery. So I endured, followed, and waited for my chance, finally reaching this moment.”

He kicked aside Tang Jue’s corpse and walked toward Bao Ling, sighing softly as if in regret: “Did you think I would love you? Compared to ultimate power over the universe, human emotions are nothing—any fool would choose the latter. So, I’m sorry, I’ve always used you all. Of course, there’s nothing to apologize for; throughout history, every high and mighty person has exploited the blood and ignorance of the common folk. I used you, and I used Tang Jue. Similarly, the Azure Dragon Society uses us… These intertwined schemes are impossibly complex. In the end, none can say whether they’ve used others or been used themselves. But now, I know one thing for certain—I am the sole victor, and that will never change.”

This turn of events was even more unexpected for Guan Wen.

The codename Jin Chan Zi had accompanied all the strange happenings at Zashlunbu Monastery, like a shadowy hand behind the scenes, flickering in and out of sight.

“All those strange happenings—were they your doing?” Bao Ling asked.

Gao Xiang admitted lightly, “Yes. That includes the changing color of the Niseri spring water, Chizan’s death, and more—they were orchestrated by my men. The spring water changed color as a last resort when probing the black hole entrance, since all the underground sources of Niseri Mountain are interconnected. I hoped to swim through hidden rivers to reach this place, but despite my efforts, I couldn’t open a shortcut. So, reluctantly, I resorted to the most clumsy method—by stealing the white copper key you possessed, I used it as a clue to draw all those involved in ‘demon-slaying’ into the fray. Now, Guan Wen, I must tell you so you won’t die with regrets. Behold—who am I—”

He turned to Guan Wen, staring at him with chilling intensity.

As their eyes met, Guan Wen felt as though poisoned needles pierced his gaze, sending waves of agony through his soul.

“Who am I, really? Here’s your last chance to see clearly—hahaha…” Gao Xiang, towering above, looked down on Guan Wen with disdain: “Think—on the Cliff of Execution, who shredded you a thousand times? Who was it that humiliated and slaughtered you in every cycle of rebirth? I am the strongest, always riding atop your head. This, you will never change—once the witch is unleashed, chaos will engulf the world. From now on, there will be no more Six Realms of Reincarnation—hahahahaha…”

In Gao Xiang’s mad laughter, Guan Wen recalled the battle upon the Cliff of Execution.

At that time, he was the Snow Mountain Prince, the future hope of his people. To slay the demon, he joined forces with Princess Chao Ge of the Nepalese Kanna family, crossing the snowy peaks to become disciples under the holy monk Dojgyatso. Their insight far surpassed that of their peers, so they were chosen as the left and right guardians, wielding the Thirty-Six-Armed White Elephant and Seventy-Two-Winged Tiger artifacts, and, with seventy sages, entered the black hole. Their task was to, after Dojgyatso defeated the Rakshasa Witch, guard the crystal platform and complete the final sealing of the earth veins.

The night before entering the black hole, his friend Wuguhun betrayed them, joining the invading army and abducting Princess Chao Ge. To save his beloved, he ventured alone to the Cliff of Execution, where Wuguhun bound him to a pillar. Not only did he fail to rescue her, he was tortured to death by Wuguhun, who sliced him a thousand times. To his dying breath, he never revealed the secrets of Zashlunbu Monastery.

Because the Snow Mountain Prince and Princess Chao Ge failed to fulfill their promise, the demon-slaying efforts of the seventy sages fell short; they could not eternally seal the witch within the earth veins. Those veins connect at both ends—the Da Tang Dynasty’s three thousand demon-slayers firmly guarded one side, leaving the witch only the path beneath Niseri Mountain to break through.

Wuguhun was Gao Xiang’s former incarnation—he remembered the eyes of Wuguhun; across countless cycles, their cruel and evil gaze never changed.

In every life, Guan Wen was loyal and upright; Gao Xiang, sinister and wicked. Yet he never witnessed evil defeated by virtue, always suppressed and harmed. Lifelong adversaries, their enmity grew deeper with each rebirth, never to be untangled.

“That night, on the Cliff of Execution, at the very end of my life, I saw a shooting star streak across the sky. I made one last wish upon it.” Guan Wen pressed down his rage, his tone calm.

He remembered—the meteor was dazzling, swift, sliding northeast from the southeastern sky. In the blink of an eye, he hurriedly made his wish, praying that one day in a future cycle, he might turn defeat into victory, to avenge his wrongs. By then, his beloved Princess Chao Ge had already perished.

That night, the Cliff was bitterly cold; his love and hatred ended with the falling star.

Gao Xiang sneered: “What wish? The Snow Mountain Prince, disciple of the holy monk Dojgyatso, believed in such Western notions?”

“Where is the West? Where is the East? The place we now stand is the very core of the world, determining the fate of humanity’s future,” Guan Wen replied.

Gao Xiang touched his head, laughing: “The future? That has nothing to do with you anymore. Now, watch closely—see how I subdue the witch—”

Suddenly, Gao Xiang looked down—a golden Demon-Subduing Pestle pierced his back, emerging half a foot from his chest, its sharp head gleaming brilliantly.

“It’s Dojgyatso! Dojgyatso!” Guan Wen cried. He recognized the pestle—it belonged to Basang’s master, Dojgyatso.

When he first arrived at Zashlunbu Monastery, Guan Wen had specifically asked Dojgyatso about the artifact’s significance. The Demon-Subduing Pestle (called Phurba in Tibetan) is a Vajrayana Buddhist ritual instrument, originally an ancient Indian weapon. One end resembles a Vajra pestle, the other is a three-edged spike, with three Buddha heads as the hilt—one smiling, one angry, one scolding. It is used in esoteric rituals to subdue demons, possessing unrivaled power.

A figure stepped from behind Gao Xiang, pulling off his hood to reveal Dojgyatso’s angular, upright, and austere face. He had blended in among Tang Jue’s followers, keeping a low profile, but at the crucial moment, he struck, ending Gao Xiang’s dream.

“You just asked me what wish the Snow Mountain Prince made upon the shooting star? That wish was, in some cycle, for unexpected aid to turn the tide. Now, that wish is fulfilled.” Tears welled in Guan Wen’s eyes, rolling to the corner of his mouth, bitter as gall.

Through endless cycles, he finally bested Gao Xiang once. This victory was hard-won indeed.

Gao Xiang fell, and those Tang Jue had brought with her collapsed as well—all felled by Dojgyatso’s covert hand.

“I uncovered the Azure Dragon Society’s plot long ago—the storm was coming, its edge sharp. I could only feign death and evade danger. Otherwise, Basang and Tang Guang would be the first to target me. I entered Zashlunbu Monastery at age seven; on my first day, I swore in the Jamba Buddha Hall: this life is for demon-slaying, I am willing to die for demon-slaying. Now, it is time to fulfill that oath. You must all evacuate at once—I will detonate all the explosives and pulverize the witch, ending it all.” Dojgyatso spoke little, but every word resonated with conviction.

Guan Wen wanted to say more, but Dojgyatso waved his hand, shouting a single word: “Go—”

He bowed deeply to Dojgyatso, then pulled Gu Qingcheng and Bao Ling, fleeing the way they came.

The three emerged from the black hole, scrambling up the Cliff of Execution, barely steadying themselves and wiping the sweat from their brows. Suddenly, a series of tremors rocked Niseri Mountain; an off-road vehicle slid in the shaking, tumbled from the cliff, igniting and exploding.

“Is it over?” Bao Ling asked.

“It’s over,” Gu Qingcheng replied.

“Is it over?” Guan Wen repeated.

The three exchanged glances, suddenly sensing that tonight’s darkness was unusual. They looked up—no stars shone overhead, black clouds sealed the sky tightly. All around was deathly silence; even the noise from Zashlunbu Monastery was gone. Looking down the mountain, the lights vanished; between heaven and earth, only boundless darkness remained.

“What time is it?” someone wondered.

The three checked their watches, only to find all three had stopped.

“Time—someone is controlling time!” Gu Qingcheng realized, lowering her voice in horror.

“Yes, be careful. It’s not over yet.” Guan Wen took a deep breath, pulling the other two close behind an off-road vehicle.