Chapter 198

But he was unwilling to engage in meaningless asceticism.

Now, a terrifying thought has begun to creep into the Immortal Zhongyou:

Perhaps... there isn't such a big difference between the so-called King Immortal, Brahmin Immortal, and Dwarf Immortal!

However, on the other hand, the sages who attained enlightenment Vedic Age had no memory of the previous era.

In his mind, the Brahmin Immortal remained sacred.

Although he has already reached the Brahmin Immortal, he doubts that many people will recognize his status.

"Then, I will take the Brahmin Dharma as my form and the Kshatriya Dharma as my foundation," the Immortal Zhongyou silently resolved. "As a Brahmin Immortal, I will become a mentor to the King Immortal and even the Dwarf Immortal ..."

Therefore, in the upcoming fire ritual, the Immortal Zhongyou are prepared to have a battle with those Brahmin Immortal!

"Oh no, Immortal Jiyu, what should we do? What should we do?!"

Before Kashyapa could report this disheartening news to the immortals, he received an even more speechless notification.

At this point, Kashyapa even began to doubt himself: Why was it that when he went, all his friends were promoted?

No, we need to find someone to take the blame.

Kashyapa instinctively looked at the Immortal Jiyu not far away, and his eyes lit up.

Okay, you're the one.

You have to take responsibility for the trouble you caused.

The Immortal Jiyu didn't care about Kashyapa's attempt to shift the blame; after all, as the person involved, he couldn't escape responsibility.

"I have received an inspiration in meditation," the Immortal Jiyu said grimly. "My friend will be holding a grand fire festival in a week, and he has invited many Kshatriya and Brahmin ..."

"This is good news, Immortal Jiyu," Kashyapa said, stunned. "Doesn't this mean he wants to make peace with us?"

Immortal Jiyu rolled his eyes speechlessly.

"Great Sage Kashyapa, you trust that Kshatriya far too much."

Another immortal stood up from under the banana tree. He was dressed in tattered and simple clothes, with messy gray hair, and looked like a broom that had been weathered for many years.

Upon hearing him speak, both Kashyapa and Jiyu bowed their heads and clasped their hands together.

"Homage to the Ragged Ascetic!"

"Honoring the Great Immortal in Humble Clothes!"

The two immortals bowed respectfully, while the ragged Ragged Ascetic returned the bow with a stern face.

After a series of elaborate Brahmin rituals, the Ragged Ascetic finally smiled.

"Two immortals, you are both accomplished ascetics, born into noble Brahmin. The Dharma followed by Kshatriya is different from ours. Kashyapa, your attempt to accept your friends is an act of kindness, but your friends are, after all, Kshatriyas who have attained Kshatriya. How can they be ranked alongside us?"

That's a very...

Kashyapa and Jiyu exchanged a subtle glance, sharing a look of unspoken distress.

Kashyapa witnessed firsthand the scene of his friends practicing asceticism with all their might, and now he deeply regrets his actions.

However, there were more than just the two immortals present. For example, the Ragged Ascetic in front of them was the best among the immortals.

Although, in terms of actual birth time, he was younger than all the immortals present.

At this moment, Hebe was also carefully observing the immortal who had cursed her in the simulation, causing her to die suddenly midway through, through the Great Radiant Light.

In the Bharata mythology, the Ragged Ascetic has a very special identity—he is the wrath of Shiva manifested in human form, and some say he is the son of Atri Immortal, one of the Seven Great Immortals.

This grumpy, eccentric old man was unpredictable. He would occasionally bestow blessings, but most of the time he would utter curses.

In her previous life, when Hebe was reading the epics and myths of Bharata, the sages were like wild Pokémon crawling around on the roadside, and among these wild sages, the Ragged Ascetic happened to be the one who appeared the most.

Whenever the plot reaches a stalemate or needs a major turning point.

The Ragged Ascetic makes a dazzling entrance with the words "Here comes the old man," then "bursts into a rage," "unleashes a curse," and so on, and the epic continues.

So what kind of origin does the Ragged Ascetic have here?

Hebe rested her chin on her right hand, a look of curiosity in her eyes.

The girl under the Bodhi Tree crossed her legs, her delicate feet twitching slightly in the clouds, like two agile fish.

Kama was making shaved ice on the other side, glancing over here from the corner of his eye from time to time.

Kashyapa was the only one among the immortals present who dared to raise his head at this moment.

He certainly knew more about the origins of the Ragged Ascetic than any other sage, even more than his biological father, the Atri Immortal.

If Kullong is likened to a pebble, then his act of passing through the sacrificial fire and stepping into the wasteland is like throwing a stone into water, and the splashes and ripples on the surface are the "effects" of his ascension ritual.

The Skyflint's Excommunication was aimed at this kind of influence that exceeded one's rank.

But at this moment there is no absolute punishment, so the influence of Kullong's ascension goes straight from the Snow Mountain Pure Land to the present world.

It was under this influence that Atri Immortal's wife became pregnant and gave birth.

Myths from various regions often feature this concept of conceiving a child through a premonition.

—As the kings worshipped by the Aryans were gradually elevated to the status of worshipped spirits and deities within the wasteland, this phenomenon of induced childbirth would inevitably continue to increase.

According to Atri Immortal, this is Shiva's blessed son, a symbol of good fortune; of course, no one knows or wants to know what he actually thinks.

As the presiding man of the Kullong ceremony at that time, Kashyapa witnessed this scene unfold.

"But, my friend the Ragged Ascetic," Kashyapa said in a deep voice, "You have all become immortals. If he were to invite us..."

"No need to worry, Great Immortal Kashyapa." The Ragged Ascetic raised his wooden staff, his brows furrowing slightly. "I need to go and meet him first."

Kashyapa and Jiyu exchanged a glance, and the corners of their mouths couldn't help but turn up.

Hebe also gave a meaningful smile.

She clasped her hands together and, using an anonymous account, sent the video directly from the Snow Mountain Pure Land website to her Immortal Zhongyou who were meditating.

A week later, at the invitation of the youngest son of the Immortal Zhongyou, the Lord of the four countries came to witness the Immortal Zhongyou's enlightenment fire ceremony.

Among these people were kings of the Sugarcane Tribe and Lord of the Ayodhya Tribe, including many who had fought each other on the battlefield.

But at this moment, they greeted each other like old friends who hadn't seen each other for years, and then sat down comfortably in their seats.

But then, firelight flickered in the Forest of Asceticism, and before the Lord of various countries, a gray-haired, gray-bearded, gray-robed immortal appeared out of thin air, holding a wooden staff in his left hand and a water jug in his right.

He stood barefoot on the ground, but his feet were not covered in mud. Instead, tiny wildflowers bloomed around his feet.

This is Zhongyou! He has truly become an immortal!

In the silence, the Sugarcane King first prostrated himself on the ground, lifted the right foot of the Immortal Zhongyou with his hand, and placed it on his forehead.

"Homage to Immortal Zhongyou!"

The Lord were all shocked.

This is the highest level of courtesy!

Let me put it this way.

As Kshatriya king, even if the Seven Great Immortals were in his presence, he would at most simply put his hands together in a gesture of respect.

—What are you doing? Even if you really have become immortals, you don't need to be this attentive.

While the Lord were inwardly complaining, they saw the Immortal Zhongyou slowly retract his right foot, and the corner of his mouth under his thick beard slightly turned up.

"Very well, Sugarcane King! Your piety has moved me! You are the first person to come and pay homage to me, so I have decided to grant you one wish!"

The Immortal Zhongyou's staff tapped gently on the ground. "Speak, Sugarcane King, what wish do you desire?"

"Praise be to the Guru!" The Sugarcane King, adorned with gold and silver, knelt on the ground. "Among the kings of the Sixteen Kingdoms, I am the eldest. As I grow older, my strength is waning, and I can no longer draw a powerful bow; my body is aging, and I can no longer drive a four-horse chariot; my mind is decaying, and I can no longer ponder the same thing for long..."

The Sugarcane King clasped his hands together, tears welling in his eyes, and cried out, "Master, Master... I'm afraid of growing old, I'm afraid of dying!"

"I... I—" The Sugarcane King broke down in tears.

The kings of the various kingdoms also looked at him with sympathy.

They shared the same sentiment—who wouldn't fear aging and the thought of death?

Sugarcane King is like today is what they will be like tomorrow!

"It's a pity, Sugarcane King," the Immortal Zhongyou said softly. "Nothing in this world is eternal. Even immortals will die a miserable death if they neglect their cultivation."

"I know, Master." The Sugarcane King prostrated himself again in devotion. "That is why I want to enter the Pure Land in my physical body and undergo long periods of austerity there."

The Immortal Zhongyou raised an eyebrow and looked toward the distant snow-capped mountains.

Before the Immortal Zhongyou could answer, laughter came from afar.

"Wow, isn't this the Sugarcane King? I remember you seemed to have gone to ask our father, the Great Immortal Jiyu, for help first, right?"

A handsome young man leaned on a large bow in the distance and shouted loudly in this direction.

"Yes, yes. Even after being driven out of the holy land by his father, he still hasn't given up and actually came here to beg us." Another young man echoed, casting a mocking glance.

"I thought I had seen through your delusions," the young man who spoke first said with a smile. "How can you still be so stubbornly persistent?"

"Do you really think that this newly promoted Immortal King Immortal is more capable than the Great Immortal Jiyu?"

"Sugarcane King, you have greatly disappointed us," said the eldest son of the Immortal Jiyu. "To bow and scrape before a fellow Kshatriya King Immortal like yourself—how can you be called a Lord? In that case, you should not be Lord!"

The young man raised his arm and held up his finger.

Amidst the horrified gazes of the kings, he pointed to the Sugarcane King, who was trembling on the ground.

"I, Mahodaya, son of the Immortal Jiyu, hereby curse the Sugarcane King!"

Sugarcane King! Sugarcane King! Sugarcane King!

The youth's fingertips emitted a radiance belonging to the Maya Illusionary Power.

A faint rumbling sound suddenly came from the sky.

"Sugarcane King, you will lose your Kshatriya caste! You will become Shudra, even lower than Vaishya! You will spend the rest of your life as an untouchable!"

As his curse was uttered, the crown on the Sugarcane King vanished instantly, his golden ornaments turned into foul-smelling mud, and his magnificent royal robes became tattered and filthy.

Even the Sugarcane King's skin turned grayish-black and smelled foul.

He truly became a lowly person under the curse!

The Sugarcane King nearly fainted, and the kings' gazes gradually shifted from pity to contempt.

He looked around blankly, but to the Sugarcane King's surprise, a pair of large hands helped him up.

They are Immortal Zhongyou.

There was no disdain or disgust in the eyes of his friends; it seemed that in their eyes, the Sugarcane King was still that noble monarch.

"It's alright, Sugarcane King," the Immortal Zhongyou said calmly. "It is far too easy to elevate a Kshatriya to the Pure Land."

"Now is the perfect time to show my skills."

The Immortal Zhongyou smiled and gently tapped the ground with his wooden staff.

In the increasingly dilated pupils of the Sugarcane King, a sacrificial fire suddenly rose from the ground.

"Stop, friends—" The young man who had just uttered the curse shouted instinctively, jolted awake.

"Shut up!" The Immortal Zhongyou's eyes were cold and angry.

Before the young man could react, the Immortal Zhongyou had already scooped up water in their hands and splashed it into the air!

"How dare you disrupt my sacred fire ritual, a Brahmin Immortal's ritual! This is an act against the Dharma!"

"I, the Immortal Zhongyou, curse you!"

I curse you! I curse you! I curse you!

A thunderclap dozens of times louder than before suddenly roared in the clouds.

Jiyu's sons' faces turned deathly pale from the lightning.