Nightfall

On the cliff plateau, the Drunkard looked up at the sky with a serious expression. He was quite astonished at being cast out of the Wilderness. At the point when he saw it, he was totally shaken by the current state of that person, which had far surpassed that same person’s performance in the Battle of Chang’an, and even beyond his wildest imagination.

“Li Manman, are you going to become the fastest one?”

His flagon was slightly shivering in the autumn wind, and an aroma gradually dispersed. The Drunkard’s figure abruptly blurred. He was about to fly all the way up to the highest clouds in order to lend his hand to the Chief Monk.

He thought Li Manman and Jun Mo did not have a way to break the Chief Monk’s Buddhist Skill of Vajra Body Defending, so he originally didn’t want to interrupt. It wasn’t until he saw saw Jun Mo using his iron sword to pry the Chief Monk and the chessboard out of the cliff plateau did the Drunkard change his mind. After that, Li Manman took the Chief Monk and the chessboard up to the clouds.

It was frequently said that people fell down from cliffs, but few fell down from the sky. Years ago in Chang’an, three people had a fight from the ground to the sky, and then from the sky back to the ground. At last, Yu Lian, as the most powerful being in Devil’s Doctrine, was heavily injured. What about the Chief Monk?

The Chief was falling down directly from the clouds to the ground, while holding the chessboard. He had been enlightened through the Vajra Body Defending Divine Skill. As his body was as tough as the earth, what would happen if he were to encounter the real earth?

The Drunkard was not as confident as before. He couldn’t let the Chief Monk get hurt, or let the chessboard be taken by the Academy, so he was ready to take action.

At this very moment, an iron sword came flew with the wind and attacked his face.

Jun Mo slashed with his right hand, as he knew that the Drunkard was very powerful.

The iron sword was rolled up by his right sleeve, cutting towards the Drunkard. Although his hand was gone, the spiritual power lied at the point where the sword pointed.

The Drunkard found that Jun Mo had rejuvenated to an unexpected extent after fighting at the underground field for a year. He slightly frowned. His palms immediately came to his opponent before any movements were detected.

His state was far higher than that of Jun Mo, but he cautiously retaliated with Boundless Buddhism.

The immeasurable wine. The immeasurable life span. The immeasurable spiritual power. And the immeasurable Buddhist power.

The Drunkard’s hands were like two giant mountains folded up and they clamped Jun Mo’s sword

Jun Mo couldn’t draw out his iron sword, as if it was pinned and suppressed by mountains.

In fact, he didn’t intend to draw it back. He knew that his state was lower than that of the Drunkard, but it didn’t bother him much, because he wasn’t fighting alone.

As the autumn wind blew over the cliff plateau, the quilted jacket appeared under the pear tree with dozens of thin white lines dancing in the air. It was the Eldest Brother who came back to the field from the clouds in a wink.

He didn’t hesitate to lift the wooden stick and to attack the Drunkard.

His target was not the Drunkard’s face or his body because fierceness had never been his style, although he had learned how to fight with the wooden stick, a masterpiece weapon.

Since his attack was not fierce, the Drunkard could always take his time and come up with the right measures to neutralize the wooden stick.

His wooden stick slashed towards the iron sword in Jun Mo’s hand. The wooden stick dropped on the iron sword quietly.

Like iron-forging, Jun Mo’s iron sword was like a hammer, pressing down the tough iron-like Drunkard below. Then the wooden stick dropped like a second hammer.

It was deathly silent on the cliff plateau, and then a blare blasted.

As the autumn wind blew chaotically, the Drunkard looked quite pale with disheveled hair and there was blood at the corner of his mouth. His hands were uneasily quivering, and so did his body. The iron sword could no longer be quelled.

He shouted oddly, turned around. and then walked away.

His voice, like rubbing corrosive bronzeware, was aged and uncomfortable. His shout was dreary and atrocious, just like the smashed corrosive bronzeware.

On the cliff plateau, the autumn wind blew again, and then the airflow was scattered. The Drunkard was gone.

Jun Mo rolled up his right sleeve. The iron sword ferociously returned to his left hand.

The Eldest Brother didn’t run after the Drunkard, but held up the empty sleeve of Jun Mo.

Then they disappeared as well.

…

…

The fight on the cliff plateau was furiously dangerous, which was hard to precisely describe in words. The Drunkard was about to rise up. Jun Mo lifted his sword. The Eldest Brother returned and then the Drunkard ran away. Everything happened too fast in merely one minute and the Chief Monk was still falling from the clouds while they were fighting on the cliff plateau.

Passing through countless clouds, the Chief Monk’s silver eyebrows were blown towards the air just like an army flag against a fierce wind. But he still closed his eyes and looked calm.

The Buddha’s chessboard was held in his arms.

It was a little dim in the underground field. Grass on the marshland was toppling one over the other. The Eldest Brother and Jun Mo were there, as shrilling howling was approaching from the air, as if something heavy were falling at a fast speed.

They didn’t look up at the sky, but at the field in front them.

The air seemed to be torn apart, and the temperature abruptly went high in the Wilderness. The weight fell on the ground finally and smashed into the grass. The land was shaking, with black mud stirring up.

A huge pit was made in the field, thousands of meters in width and about one-hundred meters in depth. The stones at the bottom of the pit were shattered by the smash, and covered all over there, looking like a miniature of the Giant Sinkhole.

The Chief Monk was sitting at the pit bottom, with his kasaya broken into threads. A half-naked skinny body, covered up with mud and shreds, looked extremely messy. But he still closed his eyes without a drop of blood on his body.

The Buddha’s chessboard was still held in his arms.

The Eldest Brother and Jun Mo were by the side of the pit. Jun Mo looked indifferently and swept into the pit. He rolled up the sword with his right sleeve, and attacked towards the Chief Monk’s head again.

The Chief Monk lowered his head and didn’t dodge or evade.

The iron sword fell down, and then the wooden stick dropped. The shreds and stones at the pit bottom were shaken up and then suspending in the air.

The Chief Monk looked paler, and the muddy shreds on his head were shaken off. His head was shinier, but still intact without any blood.

Wind blew up at the pit bottom, putting down the shreds and stones in the air with rustles. The Drunkard appeared behind them. The Eldest Brother turned back and went to him in a wink.

The Drunkard lifted up his eyebrows, and slapped down. A shadow abruptly casted over the pit bottom, as if the sky was covered by his palm. The Eldest Brother poked upwards the palm. The palm was suspended while the stick wasn’t snapped. The Eldest Brother looked pale and receded back fast.

He stepped back beside the Chief Monk, and his hand fell onto the Chief Monk’s shoulders again.

Jun Mo’s iron sword appeared out of nowhere, and stabbed between the Chief Monk and shreds and stones at the pit bottom.

Shouts of pain were heard. A large amount of blood splashed out from Jun Mo’s body, and hit the cliff rocks at the pit bottom.

The Chief Monk’s body, as heavy as mountains, was once again violently pried up by him. Still, only a small gap was generated, but it was enough.

The Eldest Brother and the Chief Monk disappeared again. At the next moment, they were found in the air up the East Mount.

Plenty of rugged fantastic rock peaks were smashed and pressed into being by many, many generations of eminent monks on the East Mount. They were even tougher than iron and steel, and sharper than knives and swords.

The Eldest Brother wondered if the Chief Monk would bleed if he were to be smashed onto these rocks.

The Drunkard had already arrived at this moment. He got off from the ground at the State of Distanceless and came to the sky in front of the Eldest Brother at the risk of injury, instead of responding to Jun Mo’s sword.

He didn’t believe he was slower than one of his opponents, as long as he was willing to pay a price. He had been cultivating for tens of thousands years, so it was impossible for him to be outmatched by someone who only had decades of years of cultivation.

Even being in the State of Distanceless couldn’t help him fly in the sky. It could only help him stay in the sky for a short while, through teleporting from one point on the ground to the other point in the sky and then back to the ground.

It was very toilsome for the Eldest Brother to take the Chief Monk to the sky because the Chief Monk was as heavy as mountains. He was supposed to loosen his hand during the falling on the East Mount, but it would be a meaningless attack since the Drunkard was by his side.

So what could he do if he can’t loosen his hands?

In the chilly wind, the Eldest Brother looked at the Drunkard and then smiled.

This smile was not a decisive one, but it was resolutely an invitation.

He took the First Chief Monk and flew to the edge of the Giant Sinkhole far away. It was not actual flying. He took the Chief Monk to the depths of the precipice. The depths of the precipice was the underground of the field.

By the means of turbulent flow of the Primordial Qi of Nature, the Distanceless State could move at a high speed by decreasing the distance between two locations to an extremely short one.

The Level of Turbulent Flow was included in the tangible world, but from the ancient time, not even great cultivators in the State of Distanceless wouldn’t trespass there.

It was too dangerous to face the blockade of countless cliffs in an instant. The cliffs here weren’t real ones, but were actually the Primordial Qi of the Nature amid cliffs.

The Eldest Brother did so. Would the Drunkard dare to follow up?

…

…

In the depths of the precipice on the west of the Giant Sinkhole, a depressing rumble was suddenly echoing.

On the field below the precipice, everyone heard the sound, whether they were the herdsmen farming or the nobles who were meeting up to plan how to suppress the peasants’ rebellion.

Countless people got out of the tents, and looked into the distance at a loss.

The rumble was increasingly loud, looming on the surface of the precipice.

Water splashed over and over by the lakes and wilderness under the precipice, where the mud and dust were bobbing and flocks and herds were uneasily screaming.

After the smoke and dust fell down gradually, a deep and dark cave in the precipice unveiled itself.

The cave was several miles deep into the stone.

Jun Mo stood at the bottom of the pit in the field, and looked over the cave in the precipice far away. He slightly frowned, and was a little bit worried.

The Drunkard fell upon beside him, said while looking at him, “Li Manman is dead.”

A cough was heard at the pit bottom.

The Eldest Brother came Jun Mo’s side, looked at the Drunkard and said, “Luckily I’m alive.”

Multiple cuts, with blood spilling out, were visible on his quilted jacket.

The Drunkard looked at him with a frustrated expression, and said, “How could you survive that?”

The Eldest Brother said, “The Chief Monk, who can cut into mountains and break down rocks, was there.” After saying that, he held up Jun Mo’s sleeve and then disappeared.

For the next moment, the Drunkard had himself above the precipice. He bowed while looking at the deep and dark cave entrance, and then wore a painful expression, because the cave entrance had been blocked by rocks. Judging from the traces, it was done by an iron sword.

Without any gleams, it was as dark as an everlasting night at the end of the cliff cave in depth of meters.

The Eldest Brother and Jun Mo stood in front of the Chief Monk. The Chief Monk lowered his head silently. Jun Mo was quiet as well. He walked beside him, and then lifted the iron sword, ready to attack.

The Eldest Brother suddenly said, “Pry again.”

Jun Mo didn’t even ask, because he understood. He directly stabbed the iron sword below the Chief Monk.

The Chief Monk looked rather miserable, with dust all over him. Slight sounds were heard within his body. Even though he was protected by the Vajra Defending Devine Skill, it was still quite hard for him to endure the constant impact first against the ground and then below ground.

But he didn’t open his eyes or his mouth, and looked peaceful. Until now, he had finally reacted. Although his eyes were still closed, his lips slightly quivered, as if he was about to say something.

Strangely, it was not the first time that Jun Mo had tried to pry him up from the ground. Why would he react this time even though he was indifferent before that?

In spite of that, Jun Mo continued to inject the energy of the forceful state from his whole body into the iron sword.

The Chief Monk moved his lips and said with an old and hoarse voice, “Such is what I’ve heard…”

He was vigilant, because he got what these two Academy disciples were up to. What the Eldest Brother and Jun Mo were about to do was nothing like what they did before when they threw him up in the air and then pulled him down.

At that moment, the Drunkard couldn’t get into the cliff cave, so the Eldest Brother and Jun Mo got more time. They could try other ways, but prying him up was the first step.

So he must take action. He moved his lips with Buddhist word coming out, by means of the ultimate divine skill of uttering word with the enforcement of law.

However, the Eldest Brother had already predicted his moves.

When “Such is what I’ve heard…” sounded in the dark cliff cave just now, another voice was resounded.

“The Confucius said..”

He answered the Buddhist words with the Confucius’ words.

Quiescence fell upon the cliff cave.

Jun Mo roared sharply with fresh blood spilling out of the countless pores of his body. He looked like a bloody man.

His iron sword finally pried the Chief Monk up from the ground again.

The Eldest Brother reached out with two hands to hold up the shoulders of the Chief Monk, as if he did nothing but help him keep balance. Actually, he had brought the Chief Monk away in the blink of an ey.

Walking in a tiny space in the cliff cave, though.

The Eldest Brother took the Chief Monk here and there within a distance that was unimaginably short.

In a word, he wouldn’t let the Chief Monk go back to the ground.

Blood spilled out of his quilted jacket again. Such intense exertions of the Distanceless State had injured him.

The Chief Monk was as tough as the earth, but once he was away from the ground, he would be weakened.

He looked pale.

Jun Mo’s iron sword already fell upon on his head.

A clear sound rang, as if metal had struck stone.

A drop of red blood spilled out of the Chief Monk’s head.

The ultimately strong state of the Buddhist Vajra Body Defending Divine Skill was finally broken down by the Eldest Brother and Jun Mo together.

However, is was just one drop of blood.

The Eldest Brother and Jun Mo had paid such a large price but were only able to make the Chief Monk shed one drop of blood. In the eyes of others, it was not a good deal at all.

How many strikes would be needed to seriously injure the Chief Monk? How many years?

But people of the Academy would never think it that way.

Jun Mo held the iron sword and then hit the Chief Monk’s head again and again, as if he was not exhausted at all.

The Eldest Brother held up the Chief Monk’s shoulder calmly, as if he also was not exhausted at all.

Even faced with Buddha himself, so what?

As long as one could bleed, it meant that more blood could be shed.

No matter how many years it would take, one’s life could definitely be consumed. This was Jun Mo’s mentality. It was also Eldest Brother’s mindset.

Whenever they shared the same mindset and goal, it was hard for them to fail.

…