As for forcibly converting people, merely clouding their minds for a time was one thing. But using Daoist arts to make them completely take refuge was to confront the earth itself.
The human soul was connected to the earth; only thus could fate and fortune flow without end.
If fate and fortune were not involved, it was one thing. But once they were involved, calamity would arise of its own accord.
Yet Shijia was completely immune to this.
Of course, even with such divine powers, Shijia could not cast them without limit in a short span of time. So-called boundless mana simply meant that recovery was faster than expenditure, and thus mana was inexhaustible.
But if he exhausted all his strength at once, recovery would still take time—at least half a shichen.
Even so, this was already terrifying.
One use could convert more than ten thousand people. In a single day, that meant three hundred thousand; in ten days, at least three million.
And it could not be calculated so simply, because as more and more people took refuge in him, his power would grow at an astonishing pace.
For now, a single use covered more than ten li and converted over ten thousand people.
But given just a little time to develop, he would snowball, growing into something unimaginably terrifying.
"Shijia! Shijia! Shijia..."
About a quarter of a shichen later, everyone in the town was shouting Shijia's name as they followed in his footsteps.
By then, Shijia had already left the small courtyard where he had descended. Lotuses bloomed beneath every step as he headed for the nearest neighboring town.
His believers walked the ground he had once trodden, beginning their pilgrimage.
In the blink of an eye, nearly ten days had passed, and Shijia's believers had swelled to