Chapter 415: Chapter 67: Great Vow and Prophecy
"Alas... When we return to the temple, go to the Vajra Hall. You will become a Furious Vajra. The path of the Martial Monk Hall is no longer for you..." Fuyuan sighed.
Huineng, feeling neither joy nor sorrow, said impassively, "Thank you for fulfilling my wish, Master."
...
As Fuyuan jumped down, Gu Donglin followed. With a wave of his hand, he tossed the two dazed, sturdy men aside. He didn’t kill them, a clear sign of his extreme hatred.
With another wave of his hand, he set down the scholar and the Daoist.
They both went limp. The middle-aged man in the Daoist Robe, Hua Zhengyu, collapsed onto the ground.
But the young man in the scholar’s robes, Nangong Cheng, was caught by Gu Donglin, who stepped forward and embraced him.
Gu Donglin paid no mind to his disciple’s current state. His face contorted with anguish as he said sorrowfully, "Qing Lian, I have failed you!"
Nangong Cheng’s gaze wasn’t vacant at all. On the contrary, he was very calm, but his eyes held the utter desolation of cold, dead ash.
Hearing this, his ashen eyes shifted slightly. He looked at Gu Donglin and said, "Teacher, Qing Lian begs for a swift death!"
"You..." Gu Donglin’s expression froze. He was at a loss for words.
After a long pause, seeing the endless despair in his disciple’s eyes, he suddenly roared in anger, "You foolish boy! I forbid it! Don’t you ever say that again as long as you live!"
Just then, they both paused. A golden light suddenly flared beside them. They turned to see Huineng, his expression detached and emotionless.
"Alas..."
Gu Donglin paused, then let out another long, soft sigh.
Nangong Cheng, however, remained ashen-eyed, showing no emotional fluctuation whatsoever.
Seeing his disciple—who should have been so carefree and full of life—reduced to this state, a tidal wave of hatred surged within Gu Donglin’s heart.
Then, everyone present froze, turning in unison to look at another corner of the room.
...
After Hua Zhengyu, clad in his Daoist Robe, collapsed to the ground unattended, one of the academicians above noticed. After a moment’s hesitation, he jumped down, helped him up, and whispered, "Daoist Hua, are you..."
The rest of the question—"alright?"—died on his lips. The academician simply couldn’t bring himself to ask.
Of the three victims, Hua Zhengyu’s reaction was the most composed, which somehow made it all the more heartbreaking. He managed a strained smile and said to the man, "Academician Bai, could I trouble you to help me pull out these Soul Nails?"
Academician Bai paused. "Daoist Hua, please wait. Let’s wait for the Dean to handle this. From what I can see, these Soul Nails have been driven deep into your very soul. Pulling them out so recklessly will injure your Soul Body and could cause fundamental damage."
Hua Zhengyu smiled that same strained smile again. "It’s nothing. It will only leave a little Soul Injury. A bit more pain might even be a good thing."
Academician Bai froze. Seeing Hua Zhengyu’s pained smile, he hesitated for a moment before reaching out and pulling the Soul Nail from his right hand.
Hua Zhengyu’s face paled, but he showed no other reaction. However, faint wisps of Soul Power began to leak from the wound on his right hand.
Academician Bai’s expression changed. He had clearly underestimated the severity of the injury and was about to intervene to stop the leakage.
But Hua Zhengyu smiled that strained smile again. "Academician Bai, there’s no need."
With that, he held out his right hand. As Spiritual Power surged, he began pulling out the Soul Nails from his limbs and chest, one by one.
The soul-rending agony only caused his face to turn a deathly pale; his expression remained otherwise unchanged.
Watching him, Academician Bai’s lips moved, his arm half-extended, but he froze. In the end, he couldn’t say a single word.
Having removed all the Soul Nails, with his very soul leaking from his body, Hua Zhengyu stood up. He held his hands out flat, and a giant Eight Trigrams diagram slowly materialized before him.
He made no preliminary divinations, nor did he waste a single moment in deliberation. He opened his mouth and declared, "I prophesize with the destruction of my life and Dao, the scattering of my soul and spirit, the annihilation of my True Spirit: My enemies shall suffer a hundred times my pain, a thousand times my torment, and live out their days in utter misery!"
Academician Bai’s face changed drastically. "Daoist Hua, reconsider!" he cried out in alarm.
But it was clearly too late. The Spiritual Light of the Eight Trigrams flared, rising slowly into the air and growing ever larger.
Hua Zhengyu turned his head and gave one last, strained smile to the ashen-faced Nangong Cheng. "Qing Lian Hermit, this old Daoist will be taking his leave. As for my words today... I can only hope you will be there to see them fulfilled."
A flicker of movement stirred in Nangong Cheng’s desolate eyes. As he turned his head, he saw Hua Zhengyu’s entire body disintegrate into a sky full of Spiritual Light, which then surged into the Eight Trigrams above.
The Eight Trigrams soared into the heavens, growing larger and more translucent until it finally vanished.
For a long moment, Nangong Cheng stared up at the sky. "Journey well," he whispered.
Zhang Deming stood at the edge of the pit, looking down as he took in the entire scene. His expression was hard to read.
In that moment, the cruelty of this world washed over him. If even Duality Great Cultivators could meet such a fate, what hope was there for a mere Tai Chi Cultivator like himself?
’Cultivation is the root of all power.’
As he was reflecting on this, Monk Huineng completed his vow. Zhang Deming’s expression flickered as a golden light surged within his storage space—three golden Merit Light Balls had suddenly appeared.
Staring at the light balls, Zhang Deming fell silent. This was the first time he had gained Merit for doing absolutely nothing, yet he felt not a shred of joy.
’If he could, he wouldn’t want this Merit. Maybe that made him overly sentimental. So be it.’
’In any case, he’d always known he was a difficult person.’
After a long while, Zhang Deming snapped out of his thoughts.
Down below, Huineng had wrapped a Monk’s Robe around his waist and stood up, his expression detached, utterly devoid of emotion.
As for Nangong Cheng, after watching Hua Zhengyu dissipate, he had Gu Donglin remove his Soul Nails before slowly getting to his feet.
