Tinder

"Kill! Kill!"

"Charge! Warriors, charge for me!"

At the foot of Treasure Pearl Mountain, earth-shaking battle cries erupted.

Before the countless troops, A Yanda, the ruler of the Great Barbarian Kingdom, stood alone atop a boulder several zhang high, overlooking the scene below like a god descending to earth.

In his right hand, he held a Halberd over a zhang long—clearly weighing several hundred jin—while his left hand raised high a blood-red banner embroidered with a golden "Barbarian" character, fluttering in his grip as if piercing the very heavens.

"Charge! Charge for me! Great Barbarian warriors, success or failure rests on this one move. If today we trample Treasure Pearl Temple and capture Zhu Hong alive, then tomorrow we can march north, seize this fertile and vast land of Yan, and make the Yan people slaves for generations, loyal to our Great Barbarian nation!"

On the boulder, A Yanda laughed wildly, as if he could already see the Great Barbarians conquering all of Yan.

Ever since the King of Yan passed away over a decade ago, plunging the realm into chaos, Yan had been weakened by more than ten years of civil war. Aside from King Ming, Zhu Hong, who controlled the northwest and parts of the south, there was virtually no one left in Yan worth mentioning.

If he could kill Zhu Hong today and then lead his army north, he would be unstoppable, swiftly conquering the Central Plains! From then on, the Barbarians could take root in the fertile, vast heartland, never again suffering in the barren southern wilderness.

"Charge! Kill!"

Hearing A Yanda's rousing words, the dense masses of Barbarian troops went wild. Eyes bloodshot, they surged forward like ants, fearless of death. No matter how rugged the path, it was as flat ground beneath their feet, swiftly crossed as they pressed on toward Treasure Pearl Temple up the mountain.

At that moment, inside the Great Hero Hall of Treasure Pearl Temple, after nine bell tolls, all the monks had gathered.

Present were not only the newly initiated Kong Generation disciples, the Jing Generation uncles and masters, and the Yuan Generation elders and seat holders, but even the retired Ben Generation supreme elders had come. All listened as the Abbot, Yuanyin, made arrangements to discuss retreat.

"Abbot! Seat holders! Elders! This is terrible."

Just as everyone was calmly organizing, a young monk in a yellow robe hurried in from outside the hall and spoke:

"Abbot, it's bad! The Barbarians below have finished assembling and are already charging. They're closing in on our temple gate fast. At this rate, they'll reach the gate in half an hour!"

"What!"

In the Great Hero Hall, the Abbot Yuanhuai's face changed, shock and anger in his voice:

"What did you say? How could those Barbarians be so fast? Weren't you just saying they were still dozens of li away and would need two full hours to reach Treasure Pearl Temple? Now barely an hour has passed, and they're already at the foot of the mountain?"

"And our Treasure Pearl Mountain is nearly a thousand meters high. Though not as steep as Western Mount Hua, aside from the main path, the other routes are treacherous. Even an ordinary Muscle Tendon Strengthening martial artist would need over half an hour to climb. How could they possibly succeed in just half an hour? Jingyan, are you mistaken!"

The Abbot Yuanyin scolded Jingyan, his face full of disbelief.

"Abbot, this disciple did not misjudge. I—I don't know why those Barbarians are so fast, but that's how it is!

Those Barbarians must be reincarnations of something. They move incredibly fast, as if treading on Wind Fire Wheels, crossing mountains and plains like flat ground. When they encounter ravines, boulders, or other obstacles, they simply ignore them, leaping over them in one bound, as agile as monkeys!"

Hearing the Abbot's words, the messenger monk Jingyan explained anxiously.

"What! This—this is heaven's will to destroy Treasure Pearl Temple!"

As Jingyan finished, the Abbot Yuanyin let out a bitter cry and closed his eyes in pain. Tears welled in his tiger-like eyes as he turned to the previous Abbot, Huizhen—whose brows and beard were white as snow, his face wrinkled like chicken skin—and wept:

"Uncle Master, tell me, was I wrong? Should I never have let King Ming in? Should I have left him to fend for himself? Then today's calamity would not have come, and I would not be a sinner in the thousand-year history of Treasure Pearl Temple!"

As the Abbot spoke, his stalwart frame seemed to stoop, clearly wracked with grief.

"Heh! Foolish child, let me ask you: in the sutras, what is the heart of a renunciant?"

Huizhen smiled gently, like a compassionate Buddha, not answering directly but posing a question instead.

"Uncle Master, the sutras say: a renunciant should have a heart of compassion."

Yuanyin replied.

"Indeed. You know that a renunciant should have a heart of compassion. So we monks recite the rebirth mantra with every sip of water, to liberate the mayflies within; we sweep the ground with care, lest we harm an ant's life. This is called pity for all living beings.

And now, King Ming is not only one of those beings, but he also carries the lives of millions in Yan on his shoulders. For only he can hope to withstand the Great Barbarian lord A Yanda, and only he can protect the countless people of Yan.

So saving one man is saving millions in Yan. Even if Treasure Pearl Temple is destroyed, what does it matter?

In ancient times, before attaining enlightenment, the Buddha cut his own flesh to feed an eagle and gave his body to a tiger. We monks may not be as great as the Buddha, but for the sake of all living beings, what harm is there in giving up one life?

Yuanyin, go inform King Ming's generals. Tell them to leave at once. Meanwhile, gather all monks over fifteen to prepare for battle and buy them time. As for disciples under fifteen, let Jingming and Jingyuan lead them down the back mountain path. That way, we preserve a spark for Treasure Pearl Temple."

Huizhen sighed, then his aged frame trembled as a surge of powerful Inner Qi erupted—not as strong as in his youth, but carrying an unshakable will.

"Yes! I obey your decree, Uncle Master. Yuanyin will make the arrangements."

Yuanyin's eyes brimmed with tears as he turned to continue organizing.

"Oh, I'm to lead them?"

In the corner, Gu Han was startled as Huizhen's kind, aged gaze fell upon him. He felt a flicker of surprise.

For over a decade, ever since he failed to break through to Blood Tempering, he had become something of a ghost in the temple.

Even after a month back in action, few recognized his face. He hadn't expected Huizhen to still remember him, let alone entrust him with the vital task of safeguarding the temple's last spark. It truly caught him off guard.