Han Old Ghost, an elder of Spirit Ruins Grotto-Heaven, possessed twelve mid-grade magical artifacts, the Greenwood Swords, and a mid-grade magical artifact robe.
Hidden within his Sea of Bitterness were a pitch-black beast-skin talisman, two gleaming Thunderfire Pearls, and a blood-colored wooden puppet. Could it be a Substitute Puppet? After the original body suffered severe damage, this thing could sacrifice one of its owner's organs to offset a fatal calamity.
Not only that, he also had an Azure Wood Ruler, far superior in quality to the Green Wood Sword Jiang Ming used. It was a high-grade magical artifact.
It had to be said, this old bastard truly had quite a few trump cards on him.
"Heaven has a road, yet you refuse to take it. Hell has no gate, yet you insist on barging in. You think the likes of you can threaten me? Why not weigh whether you three even have the qualifications?"
Elder Han had already lost his patience. These three had just gone through a battle, a vicious fight against a Four-Winged Centipede and some Two-Winged Centipedes. Even relying on their numbers to endure until the end, they could not possibly have come through unscathed.
If he did not strike now, when would he?
The next moment, with a thought from Elder Han, all twelve Greenwood Swords flew out at once. They traced mysterious trajectories, sealing off every direction and trapping the three within.
This old fellow had obtained a Beast-Skin Book of Array-Pattern Inheritance. Once his twelve Greenwood Swords were deployed, they could form a simple Sword Formation.
His attack was not over. The next instant, he hurled a fist-sized, golden Thunderfire Pearl into the Sword Formation.
Boom!
From trapping the enemy with the Sword Formation to detonating the Thunderfire Pearl, it happened almost in one seamless motion.
"Not good. A Thunderfire Pearl!"
"Ah—"
"Bastard—"
Amid three different roars and agonized screams, the three had naturally fallen into the trap.
Even Life Spring cultivators were unwilling to take a Thunderfire Pearl's attack head-on.
To acquire those two Thunderfire Pearls, Elder Han had paid quite a price, producing some ancient items he had obtained from exploring ruins over the years.
At the instant of the explosion, the twelve Greenwood Swords flashed with eerie jade-green radiance. Those lights fused together, weaving simple patterns and forming a barrier of light, making the twelve swords seem to merge temporarily into a single whole.
As a result, within that enclosed space, the Thunderfire Pearl's power was unleashed to the fullest. Once the blazing golden lightning and silver flames faded, the armor on the three people had long since been burned through and melted away.
Their bodies were covered in wounds interwoven with lightning and fire. They had been pierced by fragments from the Thunderfire Pearl's explosion, and some wounds had even gone straight through their bodies.
All their hair had burned away, their scalps were charred black, and even their ears had melted. They looked utterly miserable.
However, the old woman's condition appeared to be the best.
"Pfft, pfft, pfft—"
At that moment, Elder Han's attack continued. The twelve Greenwood Swords shot out streams of sword qi, completely submerging the three people inside.
Yet the three inside still had the strength to resist. Some deployed Star-Pattern Iron Nails, some deployed Obsidian Iron Spears, and even the old woman deployed a Star-Pattern Iron Mirror and an Obsidian Iron Ritual Sword.
The weapons they had originally held had already been refined into molten iron by the previous explosion.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The sounds of magical artifacts colliding rang without end.
In particular, the old woman's Star-Pattern Iron Bagua Mirror released waves of deep-blue halos, pinning the incoming sword lights in place, while she wielded the Obsidian Iron Ritual Sword in an attempt to carve out an escape route.
Clearly, Elder Han would not let her escape so easily. Driven by his mana, the twelve Greenwood Swords blossomed with eerie green flames like ghostfire. The patterns engraved on their blades seemed to come alive, writhing like maggots.
Then the twelve Greenwood Swords blazed brightly, their green radiance thick with killing intent. Each sword grew with the wind, transforming into a gigantic sword thirty feet long, and all of them slashed toward the center.
Elder Han himself was wreathed in green flames, his mana entirely jade-green. He had already deployed the Azure Wood Ruler, gripping it in his hand as he charged toward the three in the center.
"Amitabha Buddha. Fellow Daoists, please heed this monk's advice. When will vengeance upon vengeance ever end? Lay down your butcher's blades and become Buddhas."
At that moment, Jiang Ming finally decided to make his entrance. He intended to make friends far and wide. These fellow Daoists, who should have died in the original storyline, could now be saved. As for how long they would live afterward, that had nothing to do with Jiang Ming. He was only responsible for making friends; if he came across their corpses later, he would collect them, but there was no warranty.
Using the Seventy-Two Transformations, Jiang Ming transformed into a talented cultivator from the Ancient Monk Lineage whose divine ability imprint had once been recorded. Unfortunately, that person had died before he could mature. Jiang Ming vaguely remembered that the place where he died seemed to be a Purple Bamboo Grove.
In his youth, that man had also possessed exceptional talent. He had been born with two First Generation Dao Patterns, both supreme inheritances of the Ancient Monk Lineage. One was Buddhland in the Palm, and the other was Buddha's Light Illuminates All. Jiang Ming had also borrowed sixty percent of that person's treasure arts and secret techniques at the same realm.
Jiang Ming was almost certain that the world inhabited by the Zhu Yan who had eventually grown into a Supreme-level existence, from whom he had inherited the innate treasure art of the Seventy-Two Transformations, was Perfect World. It was simply that the era he had lived in was likely the Immortal Ancient Era.
That was because, in the final scene of inheriting the treasure art, he had seen heaven collapse, earth split apart, and the sun, moon, and stars fall. It looked like the scene from the Immortal Ancient Era when the Primordial Ancient Realm had been shattered into pieces by the combined assault of the Immortal Kings of the Exotic Domain.
"Who are you?"
Elder Han stared warily at Jiang Ming, his face tense as he spoke.
Jiang Ming's arrival gave the three people inside a chance to catch their breath. They tore open a gap in the blockade of the twelve Greenwood Swords and rushed out. Then the three fled without even looking back, not daring to utter even a single threat. They had nearly died; staying alive was what mattered, so how could they dare remain?
"This monk's Dharma name is Sanzang. I came from the Western Lands Desert and am heading to the Eastern Wasteland to seek the Emperor and scriptures. Passing by this treasured temple, I saw that you possess considerable wisdom. Why not join my Buddhist School?"
Jiang Ming wore a solemn, sacred expression. He tore off one sleeve of his white linen garment, leaving one shoulder bare, and instantly took on the appearance of an ascetic monk.
Coupled with the numerous tears in his clothes from his journey here, he truly resembled a monk from the Western Desert.
The key was that the ancient monk he had transformed into looked like a boy of only around thirteen, yet possessed the tall body of a young man. He was spirited and heroic, his blood qi abundant, making him seem like a furnace of vitality. Elder Han could not help but envy him. What a perfect body. If only it were mine.
"Hehe, Fellow Daoist, you jest. This old man is already frail with age. What wisdom could I possibly possess? You should look elsewhere."
Elder Han did not believe Jiang Ming's nonsense at all. He was nearly at the end of his lifespan and could not even leave the Eastern Wasteland, let alone travel to the Western Desert. With a smile that did not reach his eyes, he spoke.
"Since that is the case, then I shall take my leave. Hmm, what a fragrant scent. No, something here has an affinity with this monk. I wonder whether you would be willing to part with it, Fellow Daoist?"
Jiang Ming was about to leave when his nose twitched. He looked toward Elder Han and spoke.
"Fellow Daoist, do not go too far. The spiritual medicine here concerns whether this old man can extend his life. If you intend to fight me for it, then we will not rest until one of us dies."
Elder Han immediately turned hostile, his voice hoarse and vicious.
"Amitabha Buddha. A monk does not take what another loves, but neither can I make this trip for nothing. This monk saw a beast-skin book within your Sea of Bitterness. The Formation Patterns Path contained within has quite some unique insights. Could you lend it to this monk for a look?
"Rest assured, this monk will not take it away. I will simply study it by your side, and once I have finished, I will naturally return it to you."
Jiang Ming continued smiling without anger, proposing a new idea. He was like an adhesive plaster, which rather suited the image of an eminent monk.
Upon hearing Jiang Ming's words, Elder Han was first terrified. The beast-skin book was a treasure from his fortuitous encounter—how had this fellow seen it? Then, after hearing Jiang Ming out, he wished he could immediately draw his sword and chop him into pieces.
"How about this? I will show you a move to prove that, if I wanted to rob you, everything you own would already be mine."
Jiang Ming glanced at Elder Han. He knew this old bastard had developed killing intent toward him, but he had come to make friends. How could he kill him?
In the future, this dear friend of his would die at Ye Fan's hands. The rewards from that damned system at that time were what Jiang Ming needed.
How could the benefits from killing him himself compare to the benefits from having him die because of Jiang Ming?
Eh? No, no. Bah, bah, bah. I am not a Heavenly Lone Star. Even if my Fate Pattern is that of a Calamitous Star, it is because that damned system dragged me into it.
As Jiang Ming finished speaking, he raised his hand. Mysterious Dao Patterns emerged on his palm as golden divine light flowed, hazy and indistinct. It carried sixty percent of the power of the innate supreme treasure art, Buddhland in the Palm, possessed by that Ancient Monk Lineage prodigy.
Before Elder Han's eyes, Jiang Ming's palm suddenly flowed with immense power of the Void. With a reaching motion, it extended three miles away, expanding to over three hundred feet and descending from above.
A Three-Tailed Golden Pheasant with three hundred years of cultivation, which had just arrived to spy on the scene, let out a cry. Its three tails emitted three-colored radiance, slashing at the palm like sharp swords. Yet the attack vanished like a stone sinking into the sea, producing only a faint golden ripple.
The next moment, the Three-Tailed Golden Pheasant shrieked miserably as Jiang Ming directly seized it in his hand and captured it.
"Well, Fellow Daoist? Did my Buddhland in the Palm manage to catch your eye?"
Jiang Ming looked at Elder Han with a smile.
He was actually shocked inside. If not for his special physique, which gave him over ten times as much true essence as he had possessed in his previous life at the same realm, it truly would not have been easy to put on such a show.
The consumption was rather high. A full third of the true essence in his body had been depleted.
"Uh, Master is indeed an outstanding figure of the Buddhist School, a Buddhist Son-level personage. This old man admires you greatly."
After seeing the power of that palm strike, Elder Han's back was drenched in sweat.
He had encountered that Three-Tailed Golden Pheasant before and had not dared fight it at all. The three-colored sword lights from its tails were extremely terrifying and could break through the Sword Formation formed by his twelve Greenwood Swords.
Yet now, it had been captured by this little monk without any power to resist.
In other words, this little monk clearly could have robbed him, but he was unwilling to do so. Elder Han could only agree.
As the saying went, refuse a toast only to drink a forfeit.
Circumstances were stronger than people.
Under another's roof, one had no choice but to bow one's head.
"Fellow Daoist, I am willing to take out the Ancient Beast-Skin Scroll for you to view."
Elder Han spoke with great reluctance.
"Very good. Fellow Daoist, you truly do possess considerable wisdom. This monk did not misjudge you.
"Rest assured, this monk will not take your things for free. From now on, we are friends. How about I treat you to some chicken?"
Jiang Ming said happily.
The monks of this world needed to cultivate, and there was no rule requiring them to eat vegetarian food.