Chapter Twenty-Five: The Will of the World

“So, if we don’t actively attack the creatures of this world or damage anything here, the world’s will won’t suppress us? In other words, we’re allowed to defend ourselves, right?” Wu Ming’s slightly roguish nature was on full display. Perhaps it was more accurate to call it a fondness for clever tricks and bending the rules.

“In theory, that’s exactly right.”

“What are you planning? Don’t do anything reckless. You’re not more impulsive than I am, are you?” Director Tyrannosaurus wore a helpless expression, but everyone could see he was the most eager of them all. In truth, he was very willing to wade into this mess, to help the people of this world—even if it only reduced the killing a little. One might even call him a kind-hearted man.

“Amitabha. Wu Ming, benefactor, what are your intentions? To save the masses is my duty as a monk!” Monk Luokong had always lived by the teachings of his order, believing that saving a life was greater than building a seven-story pagoda. It was his guiding principle.

“Let me think—what counts as legitimate self-defense? This is headache-inducing. We can’t just deliberately walk into Pete’s attacks, right? That definitely wouldn’t work. The world’s consciousness isn’t stupid.” Wu Ming shrugged helplessly.

“Master, please, think of something!” Music tugged at Wu Ming’s sleeve, pleading coquettishly. Wu Ming, who had never even held a girl’s hand, blushed fiercely, his thoughts in disarray, his manner shy and awkward.

“Getting Pete to attack us proactively seems unrealistic. It’s not safe to walk into his attacks, either. If the world’s will suddenly decides we’re interfering and suppresses our cultivation, leaving only a fraction of our power, and that madman strikes, we’d be doomed!” Sister Lingmei shared her opinion.

“This humble monk might have an idea!” Monk Luokong looked embarrassed, as if reluctant to speak.

“What’s with the bashfulness, monk? If you’ve got something, spit it out!” Director Tyrannosaurus roared.

“Well, perhaps I can enlighten these Shadow Guards?”

“Is that possible?” Everyone’s jaws dropped.

“The Buddha saves those with affinity. According to the Buddhist texts, even a butcher can become a Buddha by laying down his knife. I can guide them away from this world, because they have no consciousness of their own. Pete used methods from another world to forge these eighteen Shadow Guards. Though he used local control techniques, they’re not normal products of this world. Besides, these eighteen beings are harming the living here…” Monk Luokong rambled on.

“You’re too talkative, monk. What are you saying?” Director Tyrannosaurus scratched his ears in annoyance.

“Silly Tyrannosaurus! The monk means he can lure those Shadow Guards away!” Music giggled at Monk Luokong, then pointed at Director Tyrannosaurus.

“The young lady is correct!” Director Tyrannosaurus nodded and bowed repeatedly, deeply wary of this seemingly harmless little ancestor.

“So what are we waiting for? Master Luokong, this is yours!” Wu Ming happily slapped Monk Luokong’s back, making him choke and cough, which sent everyone into peals of laughter.

Below the pyramid, the battle was locked in stalemate. Pete’s armed forces clashed with soldiers and numerous rebels. The death toll grew, the ground covered in thick layers of blood and flesh—a horrifying sight. War truly was terrifying!

The eighteen Shadow Guards darted between the Light Knights and Royal Knights, their movements accompanied by screams of agony. All the Light Judgment Knights and Royal Knights watched their surroundings warily, terrified that a Shadow Guard might emerge from the darkness to assassinate them. Those with weaker nerves swung their weapons wildly at empty air, and the surrounding crowds kept their distance, afraid of being struck down in the chaos.

“Homage to Avalokiteshvara, homage to Arya, homage to the noble one, homage to the bodhisattva, homage to the great compassionate one, om…” The Great Compassion Mantra echoed from Monk Luokong’s lips, and it seemed as if countless voices joined him from the sky.

“I hate it when monks chant. It’s so annoying!” Music pouted, covering her ears.

“Is your chant actually working?” Director Tyrannosaurus called out impatiently to Monk Luokong.

Monk Luokong pressed his palms together and smiled, continuing the mantra: “Sava Ata, Dushu Peng, Ashiyun, Sava Sata, Namobasata, Namobaga, Mafatdu. Om, Abolu Xi. Lugadi. Karodi. Yixili. Maha Bodhisattva, Sava Sava. Mala Mala, Mahi Mahi, Lituoyun. Gulu Gulu, Jiameng…”

At that moment, the eighteen Shadow Guards seemed to be controlled by some unseen force and slowly became visible atop the pyramid.

“Damn!” Wu Ming stepped back in shock.

“Monk, your chant’s useless! Now you’re drawing their hatred!” Director Tyrannosaurus readied himself to attack.

“Wait, let’s see what happens!” Lingmei pulled him back.

The eighteen Shadow Guards began to emit black mist, growing darker until thick smoke billowed from their bodies like burning plastic, though their faces showed no pain.

Those fighting below noticed the anomaly and looked up at the smoking Shadow Guards in alarm. The fighting stopped, and everyone stared, mouths agape, at the unfolding scene.

In the black smoke, the eighteen Shadow Guards pressed their palms together and hovered in midair, chanting the Great Compassion Mantra alongside Monk Luokong.

From the corpses recently fallen in battle, shimmering spirits slowly rose, also pressing their palms together and bowing toward Monk Luokong before fading away. The sound of the mantra grew louder and more resonant throughout heaven and earth.

Monk Luokong’s Wrathful Vajra gradually manifested, golden light pouring into its form from all directions. Monk Luokong seemed surprised; he hadn’t summoned his Vajra, yet it appeared on its own, absorbing whatever was being infused into it. He wondered if this would affect the Vajra or cause any harm. Clearly, this monk’s mind was still impure, his thoughts too scattered.

“The wishes of sentient beings! What a treasure!” Lingmei gazed enviously at the golden stream flooding into Monk Luokong’s Vajra.

“In the future, this Vajra will be a guardian deity! The monk’s fortune is boundless.” Lingmei licked her lips and winked at Wu Ming, who quickly turned his face away, pretending not to notice.

The meditating Shadow Guards began to shine with golden light, transforming into eighteen bronze monks, their bodies aglow and clad in robes. Monk Luokong, having started, decided to finish the job, refining them fully. Yet suddenly, as the transformation reached halfway, the Shadow Guards began to emit black mist again, shifting between black, white, and gold.

“You bald fool, stop right now! If you don’t meddle in our affairs, I’ll give you the Zhurou herb. Now get lost!” Pete, clearly flustered, fished the herb from his spatial ring and tossed it over.

“There is a herb, shaped like chives with azure flowers, called Zhurou. Eating it staves off hunger.” Lingmei took the herb, examined it, and nodded. “It’s definitely Zhurou, freshly picked.”

“Pete, since you had Zhurou, why didn’t you give it to us earlier? What’s your real motive?” Director Tyrannosaurus was dissatisfied with Pete’s actions—he was far from the teammate he’d once been.

“What benefit is there for me if I give it to you?”

Director Tyrannosaurus was left speechless.

“Master, we also have Zhurou. Please help us hold off the Shadow Guards. These three stalks, plus this magical artifact, are yours!” The Pope lifted his hand, sending three stalks of Zhurou and a peach pit bracelet toward the group.

Lingmei quickly collected them, checked the Zhurou, and nodded at Wu Ming—it was genuine.

Everyone was puzzled—first they couldn’t find any, now there was so much.

All eyes turned to the peach pit bracelet from the Pope. It had nine pits, each much larger than normal, shaped like apples. A military-green turquoise bead topped the bracelet, but there appeared to be nothing special about it besides its size and shape.

The Pope explained, “This peach pit bracelet is a divine artifact our Light Church obtained by chance. It was made from ten immortal peach pits and one turquoise bead. Our tests show it contains world-shattering power, but we don’t know how to use it. Still, it’s surely an artifact from your Eastern world—we’ll give it to the master!”

“So you’re giving us a worthless string of peach pits, trash with no use?” Director Tyrannosaurus shouted.

“Master, that’s not what I meant—this really is an artifact!” The Pope regretted his decision; he should have just given the Zhurou and not bothered with the bracelet.

“Stop!” Lingmei held back Director Tyrannosaurus. “These are indeed ancient peach pits from the immortal peach tree, but their energy has been sealed for some reason.”

“It may not be greatly useful, but as a talisman it’s excellent. With it, no demon or monster can come near! Let’s give it to the young master.” Lingmei tossed the bracelet to Wu Ming, saluted the Pope, and turned to Pete. “Thank you, Your Holiness. We can hold off the Shadow Guards for a quarter of an hour. After that, regardless of the outcome, we will leave immediately. Is that acceptable?”

“No problem!” Pete and the Pope replied in unison, then glared at each other and turned away.