15: The Spirit Leaves the Body and Enters the Underworld

“As I have heard...”

Suddenly, colossal Buddhist scriptures materialized out of thin air, filling the surroundings, floating in the void, radiating with holy light. In an instant, they suppressed the chaos, rendering the tree demon immobile.

Abruptly, flames ignited on the bodies of the three old monks, yet they remained motionless, as if unaware, wholly absorbed in their chanting and rituals, strengthening the incantation.

“The Vajra Prajnaparamita Sutra.”

Yan Chixia sighed, “These three venerable monks are burning their bodies with karmic fire, intending to use their own relics to subdue the tree demon.”

Indeed, moments later, the three old monks vanished from where they stood, the karmic flames extinguished, leaving behind three golden relics, densely inscribed with scripture, around which Buddhist radiance flowed.

With the loss of the monks’ suppressive power, the tree demon immediately felt its burdens eased and fiercely resisted. Its roots, like giant serpents, crashed against the surrounding scriptures, causing a tremendous commotion.

Several monks, unable to withstand the pressure, coughed up blood and collapsed. The others, as if blind to them, continued undaunted. Huijue opened his eyes wide. “The abbot and my two uncles have immolated themselves with karmic fire, willingly becoming relics to forever imprison the demon. Brothers, we must not falter, but unite to complete the final ritual.”

With these words, he closed his eyes, chanting, his hands weaving intricate signs. The monks behind him followed suit. Instantly, the hall was filled with the sound of Buddhist hymns. The previously dormant relics began to emit a soft golden glow and slowly rose into the air.

“Monster, you have destroyed our Lanruo Temple and slaughtered our brethren. Today, you will be utterly annihilated, your soul scattered, never to return!”

Huijue shouted. The three relics soared high, bursting forth with a blinding, majestic light, like three rising suns, stirring a tide of spiritual energy that surged and then crashed down.

The tree demon, stunned, let out a shrill shriek. Leaves fluttered down, branches snapped, countless roots withered and collapsed to the earth. For a moment, heaven and earth fell silent.

“Wretched fiend, do you think to escape in secret?”

Yan Chixia moved like lightning, leaping into the fray. His feet traced the celestial stars, his hand gripping the ritual sword. “Heaven and earth without bounds, I command the law of the universe—by my decree!”

The sword transformed into a streak of rainbow light, flashing coldly as it struck a thick root. Instantly, black smoke billowed forth, swirling in the air before plunging into the earth and vanishing.

“This is bad. The fiend has split its soul and fled into the realm of the dead. If not destroyed now, it will bring endless calamity.”

Yan Chixia recalled his ritual sword, his face grim. He glanced at the tree demon’s withered form—though its soul had fled, its roots remained alive. Should the soul return, its power would be restored in an instant.

“We thank our Daoist friends for your powerful aid in slaying the demon. Lanruo Temple is forever in your debt.”

Huijue led the surviving monks over and bowed deeply. “Our temple has suffered a great catastrophe—its halls destroyed, monks killed and wounded. I shall lead the remaining brothers away to reopen our doors elsewhere. If fate allows, we shall meet again.”

With that, he turned and departed. Xiahou also clasped his hands in farewell. “Brother Yan, now that matters here are settled, I will escort the princess through the night. Should you ever visit the capital, I will be sure to offer you fine wine and hospitality.”

Yan Chixia nodded. “General Xiahou, your duties are pressing. No need for formalities.”

Watching them leave, he turned to Yi Fan. “Young friend Yi, why are you not leaving?”

“Why are you still here, elder?” Yi Fan retorted.

Yan Chixia was momentarily taken aback, then laughed. “With nearly all the monks dead or wounded, it’s unwise to linger here lest the demon seeks revenge. General Xiahou also wishes to avoid further trouble, so he is escorting the princess through the night.”

He paused, then snorted coldly. “They are all afraid. But I am not. If that fragment of the tree demon is left alive, it will be a disaster in the future.”

Yi Fan smiled. “If you are not afraid, why should I be? I will stay to lend you a hand.”

Yan Chixia laughed heartily. “Well said, young priest! I knew you were the right sort.”

In all of Lanruo Temple, few halls remained intact. The Grand Hall was among them, though even it was battered and deserted. The two entered and found a clean spot to rest.

Earlier, the hall had sheltered the temple’s youngest novices and the princess, so it was cluttered and dirty, the flickering candlelight casting a yellowish glow.

“Those monks certainly fled in haste, abandoning even their dead. They must have been scared witless.”

Yan Chixia snorted. Now, only the two of them remained in the temple. He said, “I will send my spirit out of my body, descending into the underworld to find the tree demon’s fragment. You must guard my body, young friend.”

Yi Fan’s heart clenched with shock. To project one’s soul and enter the underworld—this was the mark of a ‘Spirit-Communing’ cultivator, a true grandmaster according to the secret records of the Daoist temples.

He himself had only opened the first spiritual aperture, two major realms below ‘Spirit-Communing’—a mere talismanist, skilled only in drawing seals and cultivating qi.

“Rest assured, elder. I will do my utmost.”

“Then I shall go.”

With a booming laugh, Yan Chixia sat cross-legged, forming a ritual seal with his hands. In a flash of spiritual light, a ghostly figure appeared, nodded to Yi Fan, then turned and vanished.

Yi Fan steadied his nerves. For extra security, unsure if Yan Chixia’s body had other secret protections, he took out the ‘Lesser Demon-Banishing Talismans’ he had saved—over fifty in all—and affixed them around the hall, sealing doors and windows.

When all was ready, he sat cross-legged nearby.

It was near dawn when a sudden noise outside startled Yi Fan. Sword in hand, he formed a ritual sign, focusing intently on the main door.

All at once, Yan Chixia’s ritual sword began to vibrate and hum, as if eager to leap up and strike. The surrounding talismans stirred without wind, glowing faintly.

“A demon is here.”

Yi Fan took a few steps forward, spiritual power surging, ready to fight. Sure enough, there was a thunderous bang as the door was struck, a talisman bursting into blue smoke before turning to ash.

Again the door shook under another blow, two more talismans igniting on its surface.

Yi Fan dared not hesitate—he quickly replenished the talismans. Fortunately, he had ample supplies and was not afraid of running out, but at this rate, it was only a matter of time.

After several rounds, the assault outside ceased. But before Yi Fan could relax, a dark shape flashed past a window—a massive root, like a giant serpent, slithered outside.

“The tree demon?”

Yi Fan’s heart pounded. Disaster! Yan Chixia had fallen for the diversion; his soul was in the underworld, leaving only his body for Yi Fan to protect. There was no way he could stand alone against a demon who could contend with Yan Chixia, even if only a fragment.

Within moments, the surrounding talismans began to burn out one by one. Yi Fan was barely holding on.

“No choice but to risk it.”

He gritted his teeth. Only a dozen talismans remained, not enough to last much longer. When they were gone, the walls would never hold.

Spying brush and ink atop the merit box—meant for recording donations—he did not hesitate. He sliced his palm with his sword, letting blood drip into the inkstone.