Chapter 206
"Demon King..."
The word was unfamiliar, yet it carried a chilling undertone.
A shiver ran through the depths of the Immortal Zhongyou's body, and an impulse urged him to put down his wooden staff and water jug and kneel before the Demon King.
He was unaware that in the previous era, before the Aryans became Kshatriya, they were considered demons.
At the heart of the Aryan race is a race called the Sarkaz.
In other words, the Immortal Zhongyou also have Sarkaz blood in their bodies.
The Demon King did not react immediately. As the crown fell, more memories began to awaken like a tidal wave.
He saw the raging blue flames of wrath, and he also saw the mad, brutal figure from a time long before the Wrathful Lord, who slaughtered everything and burned cities and kingdoms.
Wherever this figure passes, civilization regresses; wherever this figure reaches, cities and states are reduced to ruins.
He is Agni, the current Vedic fire god, and also Bhrigu, the former Demon King who once ruled the Aryans.
Ravana was moved to tears, his limbs trembling.
He couldn't help but compare himself to that magnificent figure in his memory, and felt that his own actions were not even one ten-thousandth of that.
This is the real Demon King!
In the next instant, Ravana's claws clashed with his friends' wooden staffs once again.
The latter groaned and took a step back, reaching into the kettle and scooping up water.
Ravana blinked in surprise, seemingly astonished that his friends could actually spar with him.
A moment later, he realized that the immortal before him was not one of those weak Brahmin who were vegetarian and knew nothing of martial arts.
Before becoming an immortal, Zhōnō was a renowned Kshatriya king.
The Immortal Jiyu finally finished reciting the hymn praising the fire Agni, and he hurriedly threw the milk and pine resin in his hands into the fire.
Vulcan is not an easy person to talk to; even after his promotion, he remains picky.
But at this moment the flames rose very high, which meant that the fire god Agni was satisfied.
The sacrifice was only suspended, not ended. How could such offerings satisfy him? Unless he enjoyed even more cruel blood sacrifices.
The moment the Immortal Jiyu removed the veil of illusion, he let out a heart-wrenching howl.
He saw several strong young men lying on the steps. Some were headless, while others were only held together by a thin layer of skin and flesh. Their chests were all open, with dark red and pink blood clots still on the ground, and their uneaten internal organs still soft.
Ji Yu staggered forward two steps, then felt a lump in his throat and knelt down on the ground.
He was gasping for breath, like a drowning person struggling desperately.
Ji Yu looked around in a panic, his lips trembling as he desperately called out the names of his sons. At that moment, he was no longer the spirited sage, but a desolate old man who had lost his sons in his later years.
His voice was carried far by the gale, but no one responded from any direction; the palace was now deathly silent.
With trembling hands, Ji Yu reached out his aged palms and lifted the soft head still attached to the flesh on the ground. The straight nose was broken, and the empty eye sockets were filled with residual blood. With Ji Yu's movements, the blood flowed from the eye sockets and nasal cavity, dripping down the broken curves of his cheeks.
"Ah... woo..."
Jiyu's mouth, which could recite 19,000 Vedic Scriptures, could now only utter dry, broken sounds, like the last words of a dying man.
The immortal's internal organs were burning in agony, and he collapsed to the ground once more.
As he did this, the head, which was only partially connected by skin and flesh, was torn off and fell into his arms.
"This is excruciating!"
Ji Yu glanced at it and nearly fainted. He let go of the head, and it rolled down the steps.
"Who... who is it that has such a deep-seated hatred for my family... it must be Zhongyou, it must be Zhongyou—"
Jiyu trembled as if struck by lightning. "My sons... some of them are still in Ayodhya!"
The angry immortal's hair and beard stood on end.
He grabbed a handful of mud mixed with blood from the ground, threw it into the air, and then slammed the wooden staff in his hand heavily onto the ground.
As the dust settled, the figure of the Immortal Jiyu had already vanished.
"My Immortal Zhongyou, you cannot defeat me."
Ravana's arms were wreathed in a ghastly green flame, and with each resurfacing memory, he grew stronger than before.
Furthermore, he also learned of the "Beast's Destiny" he bore.
That is "devouring the high castes".
"The greed and arrogance of the high caste will eventually lead to their downfall. I am the Demon King, by the mandate of Shiva, will devour these fallen ones." Ravana utmost mockery and sophistry. "Immortal Zhongyou, haven't you realized that if this trend is not nipped in the bud now, the low caste will have no way to survive?"
"This is the true meaning of what Shiva taught... All destruction and sacrifice are for the sake of survival."
"You have already stood on the side that has turned away from the Dharma!"
The Immortal Zhongyou remained unmoved.
Blood flowed from his mouth and nose, dripping onto the gray sash on his chest.
Ravana sighed in disappointment.
If a different immortal were here, whether it were Kashyapa or Jiyu, they would at least be shaken. Taking advantage of this opportunity, he could rush up and tear the immortal in two.
No... perhaps these immortals who don't know martial arts would have died under their claws in the very first round.
But this friend of mine is truly an exception among exceptions.
Although he became an immortal through extreme asceticism, his martial arts skills, which he once relied on to fight on the battlefield, were not neglected!
Ravana had no doubt that he could achieve final victory, but if he wasted too much time here, the Immortal Jiyu might arrive soon.
At that time, the Immortal Jiyu will quickly determine the truth of the matter.
Ravana chuckled sinisterly, "Very well, very well. Since you, Great Immortal, are willing to set aside past grievances and protect this posthumous child, I will do you a favor. In any case, I have already received your kindness and become the Demon King... If you have nowhere to go in the future, you can come and find me."
The ghastly green flames formed a curtain that enveloped him completely before vanishing in an instant.
The Immortal Zhongyou stared coldly at the Demon King's figure, and only after confirming that he had completely disappeared did they let out a low sigh.
Reaching out to wipe away the blood flowing from between their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, the group turned around and looked at the two pregnant women lying on the ground.
He reached out and placed his hand on their swollen bellies. "I, my friends, bless your children with a safe delivery."
As soon as the words were spoken, the two pregnant women, unable to endure the pain any longer, gave birth to their children almost simultaneously.
They are all boys.
The Immortal Zhongyou looked at Jiyu's grandson with complicated expressions.
The tiny baby was currently huddled in a makeshift swaddle made of clothes by its mother, its cheeks wrinkled and looking terribly ugly.
The same was true on the other side, of course. However, the gazes of the Immortal Zhongyou did not spare Jiyu's daughter-in-law.
The latter asked incredulously in a low voice, "Immortal... was all of this really your doing? My husband... he..."
Before she could finish speaking, she began to sob softly.
"A hundred of my sons have also died," the Immortal Zhongyou said numbly. "Jiyu's sons humiliated my son in every way, threw their ashes into the latrine, and cursed them to be reborn as lowly people."
They are the sons of extreme wealth, and their curses are effective.
That's why he resolved to practice asceticism for the sake of all the lowly people in the world, because he didn't know where his children would be reborn in the future.
If all the lowest castes could enjoy blessings, perhaps even my own sons would...
The Immortal Zhongyou spoke in a deep voice, meeting the woman's incredulous gaze.
"I have been determined to avenge my family, and this is why I am where I am today," my friends said. "But this child is not among them. He has never killed my son, never insulted my bloodline, never mocked my country...!"
The Immortal Zhongyou were unwilling to continue the conversation.
He feared he would lose control of his murderous intent and kill the child and his mother on the spot to eliminate any future trouble.
He placed his hands on the heads of the two women who had just given birth, and they regained their strength, even though they were still weak, and were able to walk, run, and jump.
The palace of Dasharatha was now just ruins.
This once Wise King Gilgamesh was completely terrified of Ravana. He had once been a man of great influence, believing that he could achieve great things through his wisdom and cunning.
But when Ravana descended from the sky and devoured flesh and blood before him, Dasharatha realized that in the face of absolute power, all his amazing wisdom was utter nonsense.
As the Dasharatha cowered in his sight, the Immortal Zhongyou approached with two women carrying children.
The group of friends looked around, their already unpleasant expressions turning even more somber.
He sighed and tapped the ground with his cane.
Under the influence of Maya Illusionary Power, the collapsed ruins were restored to their original state in an instant, but the corpses on the ground could no longer come back to life.
Two women holding children were crying and laughing at the same time.
The one laughing was naturally the concubine of the Dasharatha, while the one crying was Jiyu's daughter-in-law.
When the Dasharatha saw his child, his tense nerves suddenly relaxed. He tugged at the corners of his mouth as if to smile, but tears streamed down his face.
"Immortal." Dasharatha knelt down and touched the soles of his friends' feet. "Without you, I dare not imagine what our Ayodhya would have become... You saved us. Whatever you desire, I will offer it to you with all my might!"
The group of friends sighed, "Really?"
A ruler's word is his bond.
"What's the child's name?" The friends looked at the baby in the arms of the Dasharatha. "Have you named him?"
"Yes, we invited the priests to see him before he was born, and they said he would be a boy qualified to inherit the throne." Dasharatha bowed respectfully. "His name is Rama."
"Rama, Rama ... what a good name." The friends stretched out their hands. "Then I don't want anything else, just give me Rama."
"What?" Dasharatha was struck dumb.
The friend sighed with a wry smile, "I swore an oath today to kill Ravana. But he has become the Demon King, and I am no match for him."
"I also made a vow to practice asceticism for the sake of all Vaishya and Shudra for thousands of years. Now my first vow has not been fulfilled, and the second vow is about to bind me... I'm afraid I will no longer be able to kill Ravana with my own hands."
The friend said solemnly, "But... the Dharma says that if a father cannot fulfill his vow, then his son can go and fulfill it."
The group looked at Dasharatha: "In addition, the Dharma also allows Brahmin Immortal to adopt children to inherit the caste if he has no offspring. My only child now is a descendant of the bloodline I had when I was king... I hope you will hand over Rama to me, and I will pass on all my martial arts and magical treasures to him."
"Besides, you don't want Ravana to make a comeback in the future, do you?"
Dasharatha was already somewhat wavering, and when the words of the Immortal Zhongyou proved true, he decisively snatched Rama from his wife's hands and placed him in the sages' arms.
"Rama, he is yours."
Before the Immortal Zhongyou could say anything after taking the child, an angry roar came from the doorway.
"Friends!"
It was the Immortal Jiyu, carrying a bow, who had arrived.
Tears still lingered on his aged face.
But his eyes were already filled with murderous intent and rage.
The Immortal Zhongyou calmly turned around, and the two fathers, both grieving the loss of their sons, looked at each other.
Wow! Wow!
The newborn's cry broke the stalemate between the immortals.
Immortal Jiyu looked at the child in his daughter-in-law's arms, and his taut eyebrows collapsed like a broken bowstring.
"Did you bless him?" Immortal Jiyu asked in a low voice.
"He doesn't need to experience hatred." The friends embraced Rama. "The young people have already shed enough blood today."
It was a newborn child, without hatred.
But... but...
How can we easily let go of a blood feud that has severed our blood ties?
"Yes, I swear I will never take revenge on your remaining child." The Immortal Jiyu calmly raised his hand. "You also swear not to tell him about your hatred."
The first half of the sentence was addressed to his friends, while the second half was addressed to his daughter-in-law.