Historical Grudges

Yuanshi Tianzun's figure merged into the void. He did not force space open with magic power; instead, through a resonance almost akin to the Dao, he temporarily aligned himself with certain fundamental rules of this world—such as the refraction of light, the curvature of space, and even the paths along which information traveled. In this state, he was not "moving." Rather, he was briefly "accommodated" and "conveyed" by the world's own "order." This was one of the few extraordinary methods he could use in this place, where spiritual energy was absent, drawing on his profound understanding of "rules." It consumed neither Celestial Essence nor magic power, but his own will and Dao rhythm.

In little more than the time it took for a thought to turn, the sight of the shabby corridor in the cheap little inn appeared before Yuanshi. He did not fully manifest; instead, he existed in a state that was neither wholly real nor wholly illusory, observing like a ghost clinging to the rules, silent and unseen.

Yet the scene before him stirred even his placid Dao heart.

The door of the guest room he had locked onto with his divine sense stood wide open. Its wooden panels were covered in crisscrossing cracks, as if crushed by some invisible force. The room was even more of a wreck. The tables, chairs, and stools had all been reduced to dust, and spiderweb-like cracks spread across the walls. The air was filled with a pungent stench, a strange mixture of sulfur, decay, and something sickly sweet.

At the center of the wreckage, two figures faced off.

One was the amnesiac old man Lin Fan had seen that day, dressed in the cotton-padded coat Lin Fan had given him, his face gaunt and weathered. But now, the bewilderment and cloudiness were gone from him. His clothes were still plain, yet he stood ramrod straight. A resolute, almost tragic light burned in his once-empty eyes. He held his withered hands out before him, palms cupped, and three battered magical artifacts from Lin Fan hovered between them: the Cracked Wooden Tablet, the Chipped Pottery Bowl, and the Rusty Metal Shard.

At that moment, these three artifacts, which had been lifeless before, gave off three entirely different lights!

The Cracked Wooden Tablet emitted a faint silver glow. Countless intricate spatial Dao patterns flickered within its cracks like a breathing pulse, forming a seemingly fragile barrier before the old man. In truth, it twisted the surrounding light and space. It was this barrier that had held back most of the invading force.

The Chipped Pottery Bowl rippled with a clear, jade-green radiance, like a pool in early spring. A Dao rhythm of "purification" and "calming the mind" spread from it, continually washing away and dispelling the foul, sickly-sweet stench in the air, protecting the old man's mind from its influence.

The half-piece of rusty metal was the most astonishing of all! A dark red, bloodlike glow shone from its surface, while a terrifying aura of slaughter—tragic, domineering, and bent on killing all living things—soared skyward! Though it had no physical blade, its invisible baleful aura gathered into an almost tangible edge, like a blood-red, ferocious dragon ready to strike. It circled the old man, tearing apart and driving back any malice that dared approach!

Under the old man's command, through some unknown secret art, the three artifacts had briefly recovered part of their power. Their energies linked together, forming a crude yet incredibly sturdy triangular defensive formation!

The thing facing off against the old man was not a physical humanoid.

It was a mass of thick black fog, so dense it seemed impossible to disperse, writhing and churning like a living creature! Its edges twisted constantly, sometimes forming hideous ghostly faces, sometimes sprouting sucker-covered tentacles, and sometimes splitting into enormous mouths lined with sharp teeth. A frigid, filthy aura, filled with the urge to devour and destroy, emanated from it. It battered the triangular formation formed by the three artifacts again and again. Silver light, jade radiance, and bloody baleful energy collided with the black fog, making a teeth-grating "hissing" sound. The energy that scattered from the clashes corroded and dissolved the few intact objects left in the room one by one.

"Ke ke ke... Old fool, so you still had a trick or two up your sleeve!" A shrill, grating voice, neither male nor female, came from within the black fog, full of greed and mockery. "Too bad you're already running on fumes. How much longer can you hold out? Hand over the 'key' obediently, and I may grant you a quick death, letting your true spirit return to nothingness without suffering the torment of soul-refining!"

The old man's face was pale, and a trace of dark golden blood even spilled from the corner of his mouth. Clearly, commanding the three artifacts placed an enormous burden on him. But his gaze remained firm, and though his voice was hoarse, it carried an unyielding resolve. "You fiendish heretic! You think you're worthy of coveting my people's sacred treasure? Even if I burn the last drop of my blood and my soul is scattered, I will never let the likes of you defile it!"

"Sacred treasure? Hahahahaha!" The black fog roared with wild laughter. "It's nothing but a pile of broken junk from the previous era! You gravekeepers have barely clung to life until now, and you still dream of restoring the Primordial Era? How laughable! This world will eventually become a hunting ground for my master's arrival! The 'key' will be mine!"

Before the words had even faded, the black fog swelled violently. From within it emerged an enormous ghostly claw formed entirely of shadow and negative energy. Its five fingers spread wide, black lightning that corroded space coiling around its fingertips, as it lunged at the heart of the triangular formation. Its target was the Cracked Wooden Tablet floating at the very center, radiating spatial fluctuations!

The old man roared and spat out a mouthful of blood essence, which splashed across the three artifacts. At once, the silver light, jade radiance, and bloody baleful energy all blazed brighter! The spatial Dao patterns on the tablet flashed wildly, trying to twist the incoming ghostly claw; the bowl's jade light surged like a tide, washing over the black lightning on the claw; and the metal shard's bloody baleful energy soared skyward, transforming into the phantom of a giant blood-red axe that cleaved down at the claw!

Boom—!!!

A violent collision of energy erupted in the confined space! The entire floor of the inn shook violently, and the cracks in the walls widened at once, spreading like a spiderweb! Blinding light and fathomless darkness intertwined, swallowing everything!

If Yuanshi Tianzun had not already reinforced the spatial structure of the area with his Dao rhythm, the shock waves from that single collision would have been enough to flatten the little inn and half the surrounding block!

When the light faded, the blood-red axe phantom had chopped away most of the ghostly claw formed from black fog. The severed part soon writhed and re-formed, though its color had dimmed somewhat. The old man staggered backward and crashed into the ruined wall. His face was as pale as gold paper, and his aura had weakened to the extreme. The three artifacts hovering before him had also dimmed noticeably, especially the Cracked Wooden Tablet, which seemed to have gained several more cracks.

The victor and the vanquished were clear! The old man was at the end of his strength!

"Futile struggle!" came a disdainful snort from within the black fog. It gathered its strength again, about to unleash an even more powerful attack.

At this critical moment, Yuanshi Tianzun, who had been observing all along, finally moved.

He did not manifest directly and enter the fight. Instead, he sent his vast, boundless Dao rhythm of "order" toward the black fog, like ripples without form!

There was no light, no sound.

But the instant that Dao rhythm of order touched the black fog, the churning mass abruptly froze! Like an insect trapped in invisible amber, its movements instantly grew sluggish and labored! Its aura, once chaotic and disordered, filled with a desire to destroy, was suppressed and repelled by some supreme rule! It was like filthy water trying to defile a clear spring, only to be instinctively resisted and purified by the "purity" inherent in the spring's own rules!

"Who?! What deity dares obstruct me?!" a shrill cry of shock and rage came from the black fog. It struggled frantically, trying to break free from the restraints of the invisible order, but found that even the flow of its power had become sluggish, as if every movement required it to oppose the "reason" of the entire world!

Only then did Yuanshi Tianzun's figure take shape at the doorway, gradually solidifying from a formless presence. He still wore the same neatly pressed shirt and trousers, his ancient, composed features making him look as if he had merely passed by. But the vast Dao rhythm emanating from him, proclaiming that "Heaven's principles are clear and all things are ordered," instantly drew the chaotic battlefield into an invisible, frigid domain of rules.

"Filth does not belong to this world's order. It must be dispelled," Yuanshi Tianzun said. His voice was not loud, yet it carried the authority of a heavenly decree, as if his words made the law. He did not attack directly. His mere presence, along with the spreading Dao rhythm of order, was enough to utterly counter the black fog!

When the amnesiac old man saw Yuanshi appear out of nowhere, wariness first flashed through his eyes. But when he sensed that pure, mighty aura of order, so utterly unlike the black fog, his wariness gave way to uncertainty and alarm. He could feel that this sudden presence was unimaginably powerful, yet his origins were unlike those of any lineage he knew.

Under the pressure of the Dao rhythm of order, the black fog continued to shrink, letting out painful shrieks. "The aura of order... It makes me sick! Are you this world's lapdog, serving the Heavenly Dao? No... your origins..." It seemed to have noticed something, and its voice filled with incredulous terror. "The Primordial Era... Jade Pure... Impossible! You should have long since..."

It did not get to finish.

Yuanshi Tianzun frowned slightly, seemingly unwilling to hear any more. He raised his right hand and pointed into the air with his index finger.

He did not point at the black fog, but at the "rules" of this space itself.

In an instant, countless fine, intricate runes appeared from nowhere around his fingertip, their pale radiance imbued with the true meanings of "sealing," "isolating," and "purifying." Like living chains, they instantly wove into a vast net, enclosing the black fog and the space around it, sealing them off completely!

"Seal!" Yuanshi said.

The net of pale runes suddenly contracted! The black fog let out one final, unwilling shriek, then rapidly dissolved and evaporated like ice thrown into a raging fire. At last, it vanished into a wisp of smoke, along with the net of runes, disappearing completely as if it had never existed. Only a trace of its filthy aura remained in the air, proof of what had just happened.

Silence returned to the room, broken only by the amnesiac old man's labored breathing and the faint hum of the three artifacts, their light dimmed as they hovered in midair.

Yuanshi Tianzun slowly lowered his hand. His face seemed a little paler than before. That seemingly effortless gesture had actually forced him to use his own fundamental Dao rhythm to draw upon and modify the local rules of space and energy on a small scale, constructing a temporary "prison of order" and banishing the black fog into a maelstrom of chaotic rules. For him, in his weakened state, it had taken no small amount of effort.

He looked calmly at the amnesiac old man and the three artifacts slowly dimming before him.

"Do you know the origins of that thing?" Yuanshi Tianzun asked, his tone utterly unruffled.

At the same time, in a rented apartment several kilometers from the little inn.

Master Tongtian sat cross-legged on a yoga mat, eyes closed, his brows tightly furrowed. Though he had not gone to the scene himself, with a Saint's abilities—and especially the inextricable, tangled karma connecting him to Yuanshi—along with the energy shared by the three artifacts and him, all of them originating from the Primordial Era, as a point of reference, he could "see" most of what was happening in the little inn through an unseen connection.

He "saw" the amnesiac old man command the three artifacts to form a triangular defensive formation, his resolve unwavering; he "saw" the black-fog demon, its aura filthy and destructive; and he "saw" the entire process of Yuanshi Tianzun suppressing the demon with his Dao rhythm of order, then sealing and banishing it with a single gesture.

When he sensed Yuanshi's pure, overwhelming Dao rhythm, tinged with the familiar, loathsome aura of "order," Tongtian let out a barely audible snort through his nose. But when the black-fog demon appeared, especially once its aura was fully revealed, his eyes shifted slightly beneath his tightly shut lids. A killing intent, grave and... tinged with suppressed fury, stirred within him.

"This nauseating aura... A pawn of the 'Extraterrestrial Demon'? No, it's similar, yet not the same—more filthy, more purely 'evil'... Could the Primordial Era's destruction have been connected to creatures like this?" Tongtian's thoughts raced as countless fragments of ancient memories churned through his mind.

When he "saw" Yuanshi step in and easily suppress and banish the demon with the power of order, a complex, indescribable emotion welled up within him. He acknowledged Yuanshi's power, however unwillingly, but also felt the resentment and sting of old memories being dredged up.

"Order... Order! That damned order again!" Tongtian growled inwardly. Yuanshi's air of commanding the rules and establishing the proper order was like a key, abruptly unlocking the blood-red floodgate buried in the deepest part of Tongtian's memories—the one he least wanted to touch—

*******

(The following is a flashback from Master Tongtian's perspective.)

It was not the modern city before his eyes, but the Primordial Era, countless kalpas ago, on a brutal battlefield shrouded by a tribulation.

Heaven and earth had lost their color; the sun and moon gave no light. The Primordial Land, once steeped in immortal energy and filled with auspicious omens, was now covered by endless baleful energy and tribulation clouds. The cries of battle, the clashing of magical treasures, the dying screams, the thunderous roar of lightning... Together, they formed a funeral song of destruction.

The place was beneath Jiepai Pass, before the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation!

Master Tongtian stood at the formation's center. The four Immortal Slaughtering Swords—Immortal Slaughtering Sword, Lüxian Sword, Xianxian Sword, and Juexian Sword—hovered around him, radiating a supreme sword aura of slaughter that withered all things and made even Saints wary! Four sword gates, each ten thousand zhang tall, loomed in every direction. Chaos churned within them, while the forces of earth, water, fire, and wind rampaged, tearing the entire firmament apart! This formation could not be broken without four Saints. It was Tongtian's ultimate trump card, the Interception Sect's last vestige of dignity and its final barrier!

Outside the formation, the enemy filled the skies! The Jade Void disciples of the Chan Sect, Jie Yin and Zhun Ti of the Western Sect, and even Xuandu of the Human Sect... Once guests in the Zixiao Palace, most of them were now leaders among his enemies!

But what made Tongtian's eyes blaze with fury was the figure high in the air beyond the formation. Holding the Pangu Banner and wearing an ancient, dignified expression, Yuanshi Tianzun was joining forces with Taishang Laojun, Jie Yin, and Zhun Ti to bombard the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation again and again!

His second brother! His fellow disciple in the Daoist sect under Hongjun, both of them orthodox heirs of Pangu!

"Yuanshi!!!" Tongtian's furious roar rang through the sword formation and shook the nine heavens. "You've gone too far! For your own selfish ends, you've joined forces with outsiders to slaughter my Interception Sect disciples! Today, I'll show you what it means to seize the heavens with the Dao!"

Facing Tongtian's roar, Yuanshi Tianzun remained calm. Only a complicated, inscrutable look flashed deep in his eyes, quickly replaced by resolve. He swung the Pangu Banner, and chaotic sword energy tore through the void, colliding violently with the sword energy of the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation. His voice rang out through the thunderous din. "Tongtian! Stop persisting in your delusions! The Investiture of the Gods is ordained by the Heavenly Dao. Your Interception Sect disciples failed to cultivate virtue, and deserve to be placed on the list to fill the positions of the Heavenly Court's gods. This is an act that follows Heaven's will and answers the people's needs! Withdraw this evil formation at once, and you may still save some face!"

"Follow Heaven's will and answer the people's needs? Hahahaha!" Tongtian threw back his head and laughed, grief and desolation filling his laughter. "What a fine way to follow Heaven's will and answer the people's needs! Your Chan Sect's disciples are shallow in their cultivation, and when the tribulation comes for them, you want to use the blood and lives of my Interception Sect's myriad immortals to fill your pit and complete your Dao! Is that your idea of following Heaven's will? Is that how you answer the people's needs?!"

His gaze swept across the familiar and unfamiliar faces beyond the formation. He saw Guang Chengzi bring out the Fantian Seal and smash an Interception Sect disciple's skull; he saw Chi Jingzi use the Yin-Yang Mirror to immobilize one of his fellow disciples, leaving him to be slaughtered by others; he saw Cihang Daoist, Manjusri, the Heavenly Lord of Broad Law, Samantabhadra, the Perfected One... Those who would later defect to the Western Sect were mercilessly attacking the Interception Sect disciples now!

Jie Yin and Zhun Ti of the Western Sect wore pained expressions and chanted, "You are destined for our Western Sect," yet showed no mercy with their hands. They wielded the Cosmos Sack and Seven Treasure Mystical Tree again and again. Countless Interception Sect disciples were forcibly converted, or struck down on the spot!

Once, ten thousand immortals had gathered at the sect. Now, ten thousand immortals were caught in a tribulation!

The Seven Immortal Attendants? Some dead, some captured!

Zhun Ti had fished Wuyun Xian away with the Six Roots of Purity Bamboo...

Golden Hoop Immortal Ma Sui had vanished without a trace...

Qiu Shou Xian, Ling Ya Xian, and Jin Guang Xian had been taken as mounts by Manjusri, Samantabhadra, and Cihang, suffering endless humiliation!

Zhao Gongming had died a tragic death! The Three Xiao Goddesses had set up the Nine Bends Yellow River Formation to avenge their brother, stripping the Twelve Golden Immortals of the Chan Sect of the three flowers on their crowns and the five energies in their chests. In the end, though, Lao Tzu and Yuanshi had intervened personally. Yun Xiao was crushed beneath Qilin Cliff, while Qiong Xiao and Bi Xiao's souls flew to the Fengshen Altar!

The Ten Heavenly Sovereigns, the Four Sages of Nine Dragon Island, the immortals of Golden Turtle Island... One familiar face after another fell before his eyes, their true spirits forced to fly toward the Investiture of the Gods!

Blood! It was everywhere! It stained the earth and the sky, and it stained Tongtian's eyes red!

"You all... deserve to die!!!" Master Tongtian went completely mad and unleashed the full power of the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation! The four sword gates blazed with light, and boundless sword energy poured down like a torrential rain, sweeping toward the four Saints outside the formation! He would cut down every one of these sanctimonious hypocrites!

However, though the Immortal Slaughtering Sword Formation was deadly, it could not withstand the combined might of four Saints. Lao Tzu had the Heaven and Earth Xuanhuang Exquisite Pagoda above his head, impervious to all magic, and struck the gates of the formation again and again with his walking stick; Jie Yin stood atop a twelve-petaled golden lotus of merit, his defense unmatched; Zhun Ti's Seven Treasure Mystical Tree could brush away anything; and Yuanshi Tianzun's Pangu Banner was a supreme treasure from the creation of the world, its power boundless!

The four Saints used their own methods to wear down the formation's power. At last, when they found an opening, Guang Chengzi, Chi Jingzi, Yu Ding Zhenren, and Daoxing Tianzun entered the formation at great risk, carrying talismans bestowed by Lao Tzu and Yuanshi. Each of them seized one of the four Immortal Slaughtering Swords!

The sword formation was broken!

Master Tongtian suffered a backlash and spat out a mouthful of blood, his body staggering. He looked at the four swords that had been taken, the four Saints watching him from outside the formation, and the Interception Sect disciples below, still fighting in a river of blood but falling one after another. A despair and hatred unlike any he had ever known burned through his entrails like poisonous fire!

"Yuanshi! Lao Tzu! Jie Yin! Zhun Ti! I, Tongtian, will never forget this grudge! One day, I will repay you in full!!!" Tongtian uttered the most vicious curse he could muster. Knowing the situation was hopeless, he fled with his remaining disciples, intent on breaking through.

But the defeat was already sealed. The Interception Sect's lineage was almost uprooted entirely. Its myriad immortals perished, were enslaved, or were sent to fill the sea's eye. A sect that had once held such immense power vanished into smoke and dust. As for Master Tongtian, Dao Ancestor Hongjun gave him a red pill, then took him back to the Zixiao Palace and imprisoned him there...

Those years were a pain that would never leave Tongtian's heart, a wound that could never heal! It was a tragedy of brothers turning against each other and fellow disciples slaughtering one another! It was "order" and "pedigree" mercilessly crushing "teaching all without discrimination" and "seizing a sliver of life"!

In Tongtian's eyes, the chief culprit behind it all was none other than his second brother, Yuanshi Tianzun, who upheld the so-called "order" and believed that the Interception Sect's disciples, "born with fur and horns, hatched from eggs or conceived in the wet," were beyond cultivation!

*******

(Flashback ends.)

In the rented apartment, Master Tongtian abruptly opened his eyes. Blood-red light and sword shadows mingled in his gaze, and a wisp of the sword intent suppressed within him escaped beyond his control, carving fine marks into the floor. His chest rose and fell slightly, each breath hot.

The memories sealed away had been violently dredged up by Yuanshi's actions that day and the similar suppression by "order"—even if it had been directed at something else. Every detail was still vivid!

Nüwa sensed the violent fluctuations in Tongtian's aura and looked at him with concern. "Tongtian Shixiong..."

Lin Fan was even more frightened by the sudden burst of sword intent, filled with destruction and hatred. His face went pale as he stumbled backward, only stopping when his back hit the wall. He had never seen Tongtian lose control like this. It was not just anger; it seemed to be a grief and resentment from the depths of his soul, suppressed for countless kalpas!

Tongtian ignored Nüwa and Lin Fan. His gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, fixed on the direction of the little inn. His jaw clenched, and a bone-chilling whisper forced its way from his throat:

"Yuanshi... Even if the world has changed, even if we've both fallen into hardship here... some debts must still be settled!"

The grudges of history had not faded with the Primordial Era's destruction. Instead, in this foreign world, this sudden turn of events had rekindled them, like embers flaring into a blaze in Tongtian's heart.

At that moment, inside the little inn, Yuanshi Tianzun seemed to sense something. He glanced calmly in the direction of the rented apartment, then looked away and turned his gaze back to the amnesiac old man, who was still shaken but continued to guard the three artifacts closely.

It was as if the wheels of history had let out a heavy rumble at that very moment. Past causes and present dangers intertwined into a vast web, ensnaring everyone within it.