bestfiction Chapter 227 Ascension, No, Just Awakening from a Dream, Paying Homage to the True Man of Nan Hua
Chapter 227 Ascension, No, Just Awakening from a Dream, Paying Homage to the True Man of Nan Hua
The conversation in the inner world took only a moment. In reality, in that short time, the cracked skull mask had already turned to dust, swirling and dissipating in Lü Qian's sword energy.
Beneath the skull mask, the old bishop's face did not appear; instead, a faceless, luminous human face emerged.
This faceless human face is expressionless, like a puppet being carried by its torso and limbs, and you can't feel any human vitality in it.
From this puppet-like body, Lü Qian sensed a familiar feeling, that boundless and ethereal aura—the aura of the inner realm.
"So that's how it is. You users of divinity are nothing more than resources and consumables."
With his sword in hand, Lü Qian flipped over and kicked the gray-white horse that was galloping towards him, knocking it over.
He used the momentum to flip in mid-air, examining the puppet's body with great interest from a distance of six zhang.
"Roar!"
Amidst the billowing dust, the overturned grey-white horse strode towards the faceless man with steps that seemed programmed to follow a pre-programmed sequence.
The faceless man was surrounded by the power of faith emanating from the void. He nonchalantly mounted his horse, and with a flick of his wrist, he once again grasped a sharp scythe.
At this moment, Lü Qian fully understood some of the intricacies of these Western myths.
The users of these divine titles are less about playing the role of a god and more about completely dedicating themselves to the so-called "gods".
They used their own flesh and blood, their souls—what the Eastern French call life—as a foundation, and with the guidance of the divine, they summoned the gods from their inner vision.
To put it bluntly, it means using oneself as an anchor point for the incarnation of a god!
Those so-called "gods" were probably Westerners who came before them, but these predecessors directly treated their descendants as sacrifices and food.
Although this is also a legacy of the road to "heaven", this road leads to a false "heaven" created by our predecessors for future generations!
It is not a truly eternal and boundless inner landscape, much less a true ascension and transcendence!
These Western practitioners have been completely trapped in the false "heaven," becoming the help and resources of those "gods."
Thinking of this, Lü Qian looked at the other party's stiff movements and had some understanding in his heart.
It's likely that the other party's attempt to invoke the spirit was unsuccessful and was stopped by someone.
As for who it was, Lü Qian didn't know, but it was still one of his own.
As Lü Qian watched the puppet-like body charge at him again, he twirled his wooden sword, and the bright moonlight gleamed from the blade, condensing into a silver beam that cleaved towards the opponent.
"This humble Taoist priest will send you, you foreign god, to meet my Yama, the King of Hell."
Although the Dharma form at this moment was made of flesh and blood, there were no strange phenomena accompanying it. It was merely dressed in a simple Taoist robe and held a wooden sword in its hand, appearing to be just a tall mortal.
But this mortal's fists and feet unleashed human power, driving the surrounding smoke of faith and using the power that belonged to mortals.
Although Lü Qian's appearance at this moment was that of a mortal, it was more magnificent than the incense-filled statues of gods in the palaces and temples.
Golden light shone from the sword, which grazed the moonlight, and its immortal sharpness, carrying with it the brilliance of faith, sliced through the greyish-white steed from top to bottom.
"Boom!"
The galloping steed was cleaved in two, and the puppet body that had been charging on its back, wielding a spear, leaped off the horse, dodging the sword that shimmered with starlight.
There was no gushing of hot blood, only a few firefly-like white-gold glows emanating from the wild horse's wounds and corpse.
As soon as these platinum-gold rays appeared, the crimson fireworks swirling around Lü Qian seemed to have spotted a mouse's anchor, immediately swirling to envelop the horse's corpse and extinguish the platinum-gold rays.
These fireworks represent the power of faith that Lü Qian just received, coming from the mortals who are being protected beneath his feet.
Unlike the pure, immaculate, eternally ethereal platinum-gold radiance, these powers of faith are like the mundane smoke and fire of the mortal world.
Although it is a complex mix, it is precisely this complexity that creates the human touch within the fireworks.
These atmospheres are vibrant and real; as sparks dissipate, clusters of fire rise again on the ruins.
A single spark can start a prairie fire; one after another, they bravely advance!
This is the power of humanity, and this is the legacy of ordinary people.
Having succeeded in his attack, Lü Qian showed no joy or sorrow. He picked up his wooden sword and pressed his advantage, the sword shadows swirling in the wind under the moonlight like streaks of stars chasing the moon.
The wooden sword, swirling in the breeze, transformed into a sharp, piercing aura, tearing the Death Knight's newly formed scythe to shreds.
In the vast void, the invisible faith that had gathered suddenly accelerated, its momentum toward the Death Knight growing ever stronger.
With the blessing of these powers of faith, the Death Knight, clad in armor, became even more agile, and a hint of compassion appeared on his faceless and merciless countenance.
Lu Qian stirred the wind and moon with his wooden sword. He stepped on the powerful waves on the ground, and with a flick of his sword, a heavy gust of wind swept towards the death knight who was chanting in a low voice.
The sword's shadow, carrying with it the surrounding smoke of faith, devoured the faith power surging within the Death Knight, leaving indelible marks on his indestructible armor.
These traces, like scattered sparks of fire, burned away the power of faith that seemed to emanate from the darkness.
The sword was sheathed, and the death knight's armor was covered in marks. These marks were interconnected, and the starlight emanating from them burned even more intensely, resembling cracks.
"Click click click..."
The cracks suddenly emitted a crisp sound, and then the dull gray-white armor abruptly shattered, its scattered white-gold radiance being completely swallowed up by the starlight.
"The sword of mortals, slay you, the god of the outer seas!"
Before the power of faith emanating from the void could unleash its full force again, Lü Qian's figure flickered and vanished from his spot.
The blazing fire cloud reappeared, and the scattered sparks of faith were gathered together, transforming into a sword that seemed to hang from the sky and slammed down towards the ground.
Suddenly, auspicious multicolored light burst forth in the night sky, where stars and the moon hung in the air, and countless streaks of purple light painted the dark clouds in the night.
"Old Zhang, I'm off!"
"boom!"
Inside the scene, the same explosion echoed through the boundless void, and the scorching sparks transformed into a raging flame that devoured the shimmering faith behind the dam.
The flames vanished in an instant; had it not been for the disappearance of the golden radiance resembling ocean waves, one would likely have thought it was an illusion.
"You've lost."
The fluttering butterfly of light transformed into a white-haired, white-bearded old man in the hazy colors, who pressed his finger towards the last remaining firefly.
"Bang!"
The firefly, which was flapping its wings and trying to escape, was completely extinguished by this finger.
"The world is ever-changing, but it is all just a dream."
The illusory old man withdrew his finger. "That person should be here soon."
As soon as he finished speaking, Lü Qian suddenly appeared on the spot, and a silver, iridescent butterfly suddenly emerged from the patterns on the robe on his shoulder.
The butterfly drifted toward the old man and landed on one of his outstretched fingers.
"Lu Qian of Wudang greets the True Man of Nanhua!"