Chapter 161: The Descent of the Divine, in the Form of an Ox

A young man stood there, his expression calm and detached. He was dressed in white robes edged with blue, his black hair fluttering slightly as his gaze pierced straight into the mist.

He came walking across the water from the riverbank, holding an iron staff marked with red runes near the top.

Qingyuan had originally intended to observe for a moment to gauge the depth of this so-called great deity. But at this very moment of sacrifice, seeing dozens of children about to be swept into the mountains as offerings right before his eyes, he could not simply stand by and do nothing.

Countless people on both banks of the river fell completely silent, watching the young man who had walked across the water.

Was he truly an immortal master?

Compared to those so-called exorcists and demon-slayers of the past, he genuinely seemed to possess some real ability.

Some watched in silence brimming with expectation, others revealed worry in their eyes, while a few seemed to foresee something, their eyes filled with utter terror.

"It is that immortal master!" Su Xiang shouted loudly. "He is an immortal! An immortal who can slay that evil entity!"

With that, he violently broke free from the people holding him and barked at the guards on either side, "Let me go!"

He pointed forward and cried out, "Look! Under the bright and clear sky, evildoers will eventually be destroyed!"

The crowd looked at one another in silence.

Qingyuan walked forward from the upper reaches of the river and pointed at the rafts he had immobilized. Suddenly, surging currents pushed all the rafts toward the riverbank. Then, a massive wave swept from the middle of the river toward both banks, overturning the rafts and tossing the children aboard safely ashore.

Ignoring the people on the riverbanks, he fixed his gaze on the end of the river where the mist billowed, and walked forward step by step.

His cultivation was not yet sufficient for him to ride the clouds and mist, but walking upon the water was by no means difficult for him.

Within the mist, a muffled sound gradually arose, resembling not a human voice, but the roar of a dragon, yet upon closer listening, it was not quite a dragon's cry either.

Rumors had it that a dragon's roar sounded like the bellow of an ox, but an ox's bellow could never truly compare to a dragon's chant.

Yet this time, what came from ahead was indeed an ox's bellow, but because the entity approaching was a demon, its overwhelming presence inadvertently gave the illusory impression of a true dragon's voice.

...

The town of Kanling had worshipped this supreme deity for many years, a practice recorded in ancient texts and carved into murals.

A scholar had once passed through this place, had the fortune of witnessing the entity, and managed to escape with his life. Afterward, filled with deep emotion, he left behind a passage of text before departing in haste. Years later, the leaders of Kanling Town pondered these words for a long time and ultimately had them carved onto the mural to warn future generations.

Kanling possessed a river, ten zhang wide, stretching endlessly into the mist.

Within the mist dwelt a divine entity, hidden year-round, which occasionally manifested itself. Its shape was like an ox, its horns like hooks, and its body was covered in three-chi-long cyan fur.

When the deity appeared in the world, it was accompanied by dragon chants, swirling mists, and wind-blown hail.

...

What Qingyuan saw was precisely such a colossal beast.

It was shaped like an ox, covered in cyan fur, and stood about a zhang tall.

At this moment, it was treading the water amidst the mist, its deep eyes dark and unfathomable.

"Is this..." someone whispered, holding their breath, "...the great deity?"

Among the people of Kanling Town, the elders might have been fortunate enough to have witnessed the true form of the deity. But the younger generation had never been blessed with such a sight, having only occasionally heard faint dragon chants echoing from the mountains when foolish Taoist priests came to exorcise demons.

Now that the great deity had revealed its true form, the awe accumulated over generations reached its absolute peak.

Not a soul dared to speak, left with only boundless fear and... reverence.

Some had already dropped to their knees.

Others struggled desperately to keep from crying out.

As for Su Xiang, the scholar whose worldview had just been upended, he too held his breath, feeling his legs grow slightly weak.

Qingyuan stood steadfast upon the river, not moving an inch. He tightened his grip on the iron staff slightly, his gaze solemn.

"Taoist cultivator, do you intend to meddle in this business?"

A deep, heavy voice emanated from the cyan ox.

The fact that it could speak human words made it all the more terrifying.

Qingyuan's expression remained calm as he replied, "I wasn't entirely certain before, but now... perhaps I should give it a try."

The cyan ox said in a deep voice, "Many Taoist cultivators like you have come here before. Either they caught sight of me from afar and fled in blind panic, or they fought me and were subsequently killed by me. You haven't even reached the Upper Person Realm and remain bound by mortal limitations. Are you not afraid of death?"

"I am afraid," Qingyuan smiled faintly. "If you, venerable elder, were a great demon of the Fifth Heaven, or if you now displayed the ability to strike me dead here in an instant, I would retreat immediately. The so-called act of upholding justice on behalf of heaven must be done within one's capabilities; otherwise, throwing away one's own life accomplishes nothing."

The cyan ox raised its head slightly, its curved horns appearing as if they might pierce the firmament. It fixed its dark eyes on Qingyuan and said, "Are you implying that I, an elder demon who has touched the threshold of the Fifth Heaven, am not enough to kill a junior like you?"

"Yes," Qingyuan answered earnestly. "This junior believes that escaping with my life from your hands is not a difficult task. Since I am confident in preserving my life, why not give it a try? If I cannot defeat you today, I will return another day and eventually beat you to death."

"Utterly arrogant," the cyan ox muttered deeply. "Do you think the Upper Person Realm is so easily crossed? Do you think this old ox will stand still and make no progress? Do you truly believe your cultivation speed surpasses that of this old ox?"

Qingyuan nodded. "Yes."

A cultivator's progress was ultimately somewhat faster than that of a demon or spirit. And Qingyuan's cultivation progressed far faster than that of most cultivators.

"This old ox has been bored for so many years and has encountered many Taoist priests who fancied themselves capable of slaying demons. But one as interesting as you is rare indeed."

The cyan ox stamped its hooves, its voice rumbling. "Let this old ox see just what kind of abilities your Third Heaven cultivation truly possesses to withstand my methods."

As its hooves trampled the water, the river churned violently.

The river water turned muddy.

While it had been speaking, that so-called mist had quietly slipped beneath the water's surface, creeping all the way to Qingyuan's feet.

This old ox was hardly a fool; facing a cultivator whose realm was far inferior to its own, it still deployed such a stealthy, ambush-like tactic.

Qingyuan, however, had anticipated this all along. Without panicking, the water beneath his feet—which had actually been imbued with his own spellcraft—surged upward at his mental command, carrying him instantly to the riverbank. Before his feet had even settled, Qingyuan pointed his iron staff forward.

Crimson lightning burst forth abruptly.

Thunder roared across the air.

"Thunder magic?"

Surprise flickered in the cyan ox's eyes as a tiny sliver of light spontaneously emerged between its horns.

That ray of light met the lightning head-on.

With a deafening explosion, the lightning dissipated, but the beam of light remained undamaged and continued straight toward Qingyuan.

Qingyuan reached into his robe, drew out an object, and pressed it forward.

The beam of light struck the ancient mirror and vanished without a sound.

The cyan ox's eyes flashed as it asked in a deep voice, "What treasure is that?"

Ignoring it, Qingyuan struck the river water with his iron staff, sending lightning flashing and churning up a wave of water.

Lightning could borrow the might of water.

In an instant, the entire stretch of the river was illuminated by flashing red light. (To be continued.)