At this point, the monk began a strange Buddhist chant.
His lips opened and closed at tremendous speed, as though he had suddenly seized an opportunity.
In an instant, Lin Feng saw a strange transformation come over the Monk before him. Half his body turned into a clay sculpture, shedding loose earth. The Evil Soil clinging to him seemed alive, constantly spreading toward his other half.
The soil seemed intent on eating him, swallowing the monk whole.
The monk's other half took on the supremely sacred appearance of an Arhat, radiating a gentle, nourishing glow. That half remained composed, forming a hand seal to resist the Evil Soil's invasion. Yet something about its Arhat face struck Lin Feng as awkward.
It was as though the half-faces of millions of people had been brought together, sharing many features while retaining a few individual differences.
One side of his mouth remained still, while the other chanted in Sanskrit, fast and steady. As a monk, projecting his voice and articulating every syllable precisely came instinctively to him. Under the Evil Soil's assault, the Arhat half of his face contorted in extreme pain.
A lotus appeared in his hand. From the look of it, he wanted to place it against Lin Feng's forehead.
But he failed.
All he could do was warn Lin Feng.
"Begone!"
"Stay away from the Evil Soil."
"Go."
"Leave."
"You must not sink any deeper into this place."
"Trust no one."
"Do not look."
"Do not listen."
"Open the canopy of heaven."
"What you see is not real."
"The rainy season is no rain. It is all a fleeting dream."
Then came a string of strange statements with no clear referents. He seemed to have gone mad, acting out a split personality before Lin Feng as the soil steadily consumed