Chapter 62
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Great Luo Blood Buddha Divine Art
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Garampa stood before him.
His hands were outstretched, palms open wide, but massive holes gaped in both palms.
Even more horrifying was the enormous cavity in his chest, through which the scenery on the far side was visible.
U Gyeongcheon's fist wind had pierced straight through Garampa's Great Mudra, skewering not just his palms but his heart as well.
"What in the world... what technique is that? How could you break through the Great Mudra so easily...?"
Incredibly, Garampa—his heart gone—still moved his lips.
"You are worthy to hear its name. It is the Ming Cult's North Sea Divine Fist."
Garampa tilted his head, eyes filled with doubt.
"How could the Ming Cult possess Sakra's technique...?"
Indeed. Sakra was the Buddhist name for Indra.
They had firmly believed themselves to be the descendants of Sakra, yet they had fallen to a technique of the exact same nature. Doubt overwhelmed him.
U Gyeongcheon snorted in response.
"Hmph. Surprised, are you? Sakra himself is another name for the Dharma Protector Divine General who guards our Ming Cult. Alongside Asura..."
At that moment, Garampa's eyes turned blood-red.
All the inner energy that had filled his body scattered into the natural world between heaven and earth, and his body began to crumble.
Even as his form withered like a dry leaf, amazingly, his gaze still burned red.
"Resorting to your demonic sorcery again, eh? Begone."
U Gyeongcheon flicked his hand at the sight, and Garampa's entire body flew into the air.
But in midair, a faint red orb materialized and vanished southward.
U Gyeongcheon stared at the scene impassively.
"So this is the Crystal Spirit Transmission technique I've only heard of in tales."
The Crystal Spirit Transmission was one of the esoteric rites of Tantric Buddhism—a method by which one on the verge of death crystallized their soul into an orb to convey their final will to another.
Fatigue showed on U Gyeongcheon's face as he watched the red orb fade into the distance.
Yet over a hundred lamas still stood before him, weapons at the ready, eyeing him warily.
U Gyeongcheon felt no exhaustion from his duel with Garampa.
It was simply the weariness of having to take so many lives directly once more. The lamas, who disregarded their own lives, closed in.
At that moment, U Gyeongcheon whispered into the empty air.
"I'm tired. It's time for you to do your part."
He had merely murmured to the void, but it was a profound technique akin to the Wisdom Light Mind Speech of the esoteric traditions—a Thousand Li Sound Transmission.
Shuuuuush!
A volley of arrows rained from the night sky.
Dozens of the arrowheads glowed with a bluish inner energy, slicing through the darkness to strike down the lamas around U Gyeongcheon.
It happened in an instant.
Nothing living stirred around U Gyeongcheon.
Only the virgins—who had nearly become materials for skull flutes and bone drums—writhed in terror.
The arrows were blind, but U Gyeongcheon's prowess had shielded their bodies.
Then, an enormous clamor erupted from beyond the hill where U Gyeongcheon had descended.
Rumble...
Moments later, a cavalry force numbering in the thousands crested the hill.
They were armored cavalry in breastplates, wielding long spears. Some were equipped with bows and arrows, making them mounted archers as well.
Every one wore a blue turban on their head.
The general at the fore, clad in a blue cloak with dual swords at his waist, led a horse down the hill and dismounted before U Gyeongcheon.
They were the Azure Sky Dragon Cavalry Regiment under the Azure Dragon Flag, and the man who dismounted was their commander, the Azure Dragon Divine General Wi Jonggi.
Wi Jonggi respectfully offered the reins of the horse he had led to U Gyeongcheon.
"Mount up once more, my lord. The road ahead is still long."
U Gyeongcheon took the reins and leaped onto the horse.
He pointed to the three bound and collapsed virgins and issued a command.
"See to those girls and return them to their homes."
Without waiting for a reply, he wheeled his horse southward and galloped off.
* * *
A vast chamber filled with red mist.
Not blood-colored fog, but mist made of blood itself.
Four lamas sat at the cardinal directions, their heads severed and rolling on the floor.
From between their shoulders—where heads should have been—blood mist rose.
At their center, a young man sat cross-legged in meditation, his naked body glowing red.
Before him, a massive bronze censer emitted incense that mingled with the blood mist rising from all sides, flowing in and out of the young man's nostrils.
Then, at the young man's lower body, a slender figure writhed.
A ghostly woman lay prostrate, naked, her face at his groin.
In that instant, the chamber's red bloodlight began to fade.
As it did, the red glow on the young man's flesh intensified.
Moments later, something astonishing occurred.
Blood mist poured from the young man's brow in thick clouds, coalescing into the form of a red dragon that coiled around his body.
As if caressing him—or perhaps interrogating his bloodline—the blood dragon wound about him for a long while before suddenly soaring into the air and plunging into the crown of his head.
In that moment, both figures convulsed violently, then the young man opened his closed eyes.
The bloodlight that had bathed his naked form vanished entirely, revealing his original coppery skin.
The chamber's blood mist had dissipated completely, and the headless lamas sat shriveled like mummies.
The woman lifted her head and gazed at the young man with moist eyes.
"Congratulations on attaining Great Perfection."
"You've suffered as well. Go now."
The young man's indifferent voice echoed through the chamber.
The woman rose, prostrated herself fully, then backed out the door.
As the naked young man stood, an old lama who had stood motionless like a statue in the corner began to move as if by magic.
Without a word, the old lama brought golden robes and red cassock, draping them one by one over the young man's body.
"Living Buddha, congratulations on attaining Great Perfection."
The old lama offered his congratulations first.
"Indeed. You've suffered too, for a full hundred days."
"What hardship for this lesser vehicle? Now, my Dharma King, be the sole sovereign of heaven and earth."
"Hmm. To receive four hundred lives—what a heavy burden."
"Fear not, my lord. They all consented gladly. I have no doubt they have been reborn in paradise."
Fully attired, the young man approached the window.
He pushed open the wooden shutters, and as if waiting, a faint red clump of light drifted into the chamber and circled him.
The young man extended one hand, palm up, and the light settled onto it.
He brought his hand to his forehead. The light soaked into his brow like water into cotton.
Eyes closed, he nodded slightly for a moment.
"Summon Ananta."
Opening his eyes again, the young man commanded the old lama.
"What has happened so suddenly...? Calling for Ananta means...?"
"Indeed. A storm of blood will soon sweep the frontier. Though it will be the blood of our foes."
"Wasn't that earlier light the crystal spirit of some mighty lama?"
"It was Garampa of Galok Temple."
The old lama paled at the young man's reply.
"No... what in the world...?"
"They've come from the north. The Ming Cult forces."
"Th-that can't be... Weren't they scattered and leaderless just recently?"
"Go summon Ananta, as I said. He has come himself. The World-Mixing Demon, U Gyeongcheon. With thousands of elites."
Hearing this, the old lama prostrated himself fully on the floor.
"Sole sovereign of heaven and earth! This lesser vehicle, Goi-pa, obeys your command."
As the old lama named Goi-pa departed, the young man returned to the window and gazed at the clear night sky over the frontier.
His copper skin gleamed, but his face was strikingly handsome.
Deep eyes brimming with unfathomable wisdom, a refined nose, lips like a painting.
Even his shaved blue-black head exuded an aura of profundity.
This was the heart of the Potala Palace at the frontier's center, the innermost sanctum of the Eastern Heaven Lama.
The young man, clad in golden robes and red cassock, was the frontier's Dharma King, the Eastern Heaven Lama—known in the present world as the Living Buddha.
He who had just achieved the tenth-stage Great Perfection of the legendary Great Luo Blood Buddha Divine Art of the frontier muttered toward the dark night sky.
"You've chosen the wrong time, fools."
He extended his hand toward the sky.
Incredibly, the red crystal spirit that had soaked into his brow moments before now emerged onto his palm.
"Begone. Apologies, but paradise will have to wait. Serve as my eyes for a time."
The red crystal spirit floated gently into the air, circled him twice, then vanished into the night sky.
The Red Naked Snake Demon Ananta entered the Eastern Heaven Lama's chambers.
For a woman of the frontier, she was imposingly huge.
Over six feet tall, her muscled frame made the shoulder guards and breastplate seem small.
Yet her face was ethereally beautiful, her waist slender as a serpent's, her curves dizzyingly alluring.
True to her epithet, red light shimmered across her face and body.
On her head sat a helm with a round brim carved with twelve cobras; dozens more serpents adorned her shoulder guards and breastplate.
Below her waist, no garment covered her, leaving her sleek red skin bare.
Ananta was the Dharma Protector Divine General guarding the frontier's sacred lands, a member of the Serpentfolk Clan—beings half-human, half-snake—who had practiced such a lifestyle and cultivation for generations.
It had been three hundred years since their legendary race left the deep jungles of Tianzhu to settle in this Potala Palace.
"You summoned me?"
She knelt lightly on the floor and asked.