Volume One: Youths Meet in Humble Times Chapter Eleven: There Is Always a Higher Mountain

A booming voice thundered from the black, broad-faced figure, “Mountain God, have you forgotten our agreement?”

The faces of Lie Yan Kong and his companions turned grim; they were not particularly shocked, only deeply unsettled. Though they had considered the possibility, part of them still held a sliver of hope for the Mountain God. After all, the Mountain God was different from a mere land spirit; he was a bona fide deity, acknowledged by the heavens for his cultivation, possessing a divine status and a sense of what should and should not be done.

Yet, ever since their arrival at Red Spring Mountain, they had felt no trace of the Mountain God’s presence. Either he was trapped, or he had been turned. Now, it was painfully obvious which had occurred.

Under the black-faced figure’s interrogation, a deity cloaked in radiant light drifted down from the mountaintop, sighing, “I thought I’d witness a fine spectacle, but alas.”

The black-faced figure snorted, “It’s not so easily entertaining. If I fail, you won’t get what you desire either.”

Shui Linglong, whose hatred for evil burned intensely, could not bear the Mountain God’s demeanor and immediately demanded, “You, a dignified Mountain God, guardian of these lands, have allied yourself with wickedness and committed such depraved acts. How dare you call yourself Mountain God?”

The Mountain God was unsurprised by her severe questioning; he merely laughed coldly, “Why should I remain Mountain God? If he succeeds in cultivating the Skyborne Drought Demon, the mountain’s true seal will be broken, and I shall be free.”

The three had not known why the Mountain God would cooperate with the enemy, but his answer astonished them. Lie Yan Kong asked, “Do you not realize that once the mountain’s true seal is shattered, you yourself will dissipate from this world?”

Before the Mountain God could reply, the black-faced figure interjected, “Of course he knows. But with me here, breaking the mountain’s true seal is merely the removal of a shackle. He will gain a chance to glimpse the greater path.”

Lu Ming responded coldly, “So that’s your plan—sacrificing countless lives for your own ambition. Despicable.”

Lie Yan Kong and Shui Linglong were baffled, but before they could ask, Lu Ming explained, “They extract the life force of the living to increase the aura of death here, hastening the Drought Demon’s growth. But where does the stolen life force go? If I’m not mistaken, it’s used to forge a destiny for the Mountain God.”

Lie Yan Kong immediately objected, “Impossible. A person’s fate is set at birth—it cannot be manufactured.”

Lu Ming replied, “Ordinarily, yes. But once, a great demon, seeking to escape heavenly punishment after death, fabricated his own fate and performed a feat of defying the heavens—thus granting himself rebirth and a new life to cultivate.”

The black-faced figure’s expression turned to shock, “How do you know of this?”

Lu Ming continued, “As it happens, my master was among those charged with exterminating that demon. I wouldn’t have known your identity, but when you said you could grant the Mountain God freedom and demonstrated your talent for weaving illusions, I realized you are the Illusion Demon.”

The Illusion Demon’s face twisted with hatred, growling, “So you are that old fool’s disciple. He’s still alive?”

Lu Ming replied with pride, “My master always remembered you. He said, as long as you live, he will not depart first.”

The Illusion Demon did not immediately attack, but instead sneered, “If it were your master, I might have hesitated. But you’re merely his apprentice, yet to step into the tenth realm—a braggart and a waste.”

Lu Ming answered calmly, “Whether I am worthless will be decided in battle.”

Seeing this, the Illusion Demon stopped wasting words, barking at the Mountain God, “Enough—kill them all at once!”

The Mountain God remained unhurried, a smile on his lips, “I thought you’d exchange a few more words. Since all has been said, let’s leave none of them alive.”

All three stood ready, tense and alert. Elsewhere, they might have stood a chance against the Mountain God, but here, on Red Spring Mountain, his own domain, the difference in power was vast.

The Mountain God longed to escape the mountain’s true seal, which restricted his cultivation and kept him forever bound to this mountain, unable to reach greater heights. Yet, the seal was also a protection; within his domain, he was absolute master. Unless one surpassed the tenth realm and stepped onto the greater path, any cultivator beneath that threshold would be utterly suppressed.

No sooner had he finished speaking than he unleashed his innate divine power—a mountain materialized, bearing down upon the three. They knew this was the Mountain God’s signature ability, the essence of Red Spring Mountain itself. Though not equal in size to the real mountain, it carried all its weight.

Such an attack, elsewhere, could be resisted. But under the mountain’s true seal, their strength was halved—they were about to be crushed under the looming peak. Lie Yan Kong, steadfast, mocked the Mountain God, “You think this trick will finish us? How naive.”

With that, a violet flame burst from his crown, growing swiftly in the wind into a colossal three-legged Golden Crow. The crow soared and screeched, hurling itself at the mountain. Fire and earth collided, and the sky exploded in dazzling brilliance. In the blink of an eye, all signs of the clash vanished.

Lie Yan Kong’s breath faltered; he could no longer stand, dropping to one knee, blood trickling from his lips.

Shui Linglong and Lu Ming rushed to shield him and Li Yu.

Shui Linglong asked, “Lie, are you alright?”

Lie Yan Kong steadied himself, “I’m fine—just exhausted. Don’t worry about me.”

The Mountain God’s face darkened; his strike, painstakingly forged over a millennium and imbued with his vital essence, had been dispelled so easily. He had believed that, without reaching the tenth realm, the mountain’s true seal would empower him to deal swiftly with the three, knowing that the longer they lingered, the greater the risk.

Lie Yan Kong seemed spent, but cultivators from such sects always carried life-preserving spells and treasures. The fire he wielded marked him as no ordinary disciple; his companions, even if less formidable, were not likely far behind. In terms of hidden power, the Mountain God could not match the three combined.

He wondered how they had breached the barrier formed by Changlin City’s protective array.

From the day he allied with the Illusion Demon, their fates were entwined: the demon would free him from his bondage, and he would guard the female corpse and suppress the dragon vein, channeling its energy to the corpse.

Escape was impossible now; freedom was within reach, and he would gamble everything.

Before the Mountain God could unleash another devastating attack, Lu Ming and Shui Linglong struck first, knowing only a preemptive assault offered hope.

Shui Linglong formed seals, chanting softly. In an instant, a vast white river descended from the heavens, surging towards the Mountain God—her most powerful spell, Celestial River Flow.

She had not wanted to use it; the spell contained not only the river’s crushing force but a touch of celestial power. At her current level, the backlash would be severe, but what choice was there?

Though Lie Yan Kong said nothing, both saw he’d exhausted his life-saving divine fire. In Fire Sun Sect, core disciples were granted a portion of the Fire Sun Heavenly Flame—a sliver sufficient to incinerate most things in the world.

The Mountain God stood at the pinnacle of the ninth realm; Lie Yan Kong was slightly stronger, at the eighth, Shui Linglong and Lu Ming at the seventh. They were already a realm behind, and with the mountain’s seal, their strength was even less.

Only a sudden, deadly strike could catch the enemy off guard and perhaps shift the tide.

The Mountain God was stunned as the river crashed down from above. In his understanding, nothing should appear out of nowhere within the scope of his mountain’s true seal, but as he found himself enveloped by the river, he realized there was a faint trace of celestial river power within it.

No wonder—it could appear silently and unimpeded.

The spell left him battered; the river’s force was immense, and with the touch of celestial power, he was shrouded in the will of heaven. Faint as it was, it was authentic celestial river power—how could a Mountain God withstand it?

Gritting his teeth, he was forced to play his next card. Casting an unknown spell, he drew all the mountain’s demons and spirits towards himself.

No, not towards him—they were being absorbed.

Countless demons were shattered and annihilated in the Celestial River’s torrent, their souls obliterated, but this reduced the river only partially. When the demons were spent, he absorbed the mountain’s plant spirits. From afar, countless green lights plunged into the white river, further diminishing it, yet still a third remained.

Frustrated, the Mountain God could not believe the river’s strength. Even after exhausting the mountain’s monsters and plant spirits, he could not fend it off completely.

He had no choice but to reveal his final reserve.

He raised one hand skyward, palm forward, and soon the mountain trembled as billowing black smoke erupted. Each cloud contained a human-shaped shadow—over a thousand in all.

Lie Yan Kong and his companions looked on with dark faces, understanding well what these shadows represented.

Lie Yan Kong spoke gravely, “You would betray the very people who worshipped you—after death, denying them passage to the heavens, raising them as ghosts. Such blasphemy cannot be tolerated by the greater path.”

The Mountain God answered coldly, “Every man for himself, or heaven and earth will destroy him. I protected them for centuries; their souls were my payment. Where is my fault? You climb ever higher, but I am forever bound to this small mountain. No matter my talent or diligence, I am confined, denied the greater path. For my own future, what is wrong?”

As he spoke, the black shadows surged into the celestial river, vanishing within, yet if one listened closely, a sense of sorrow and release emanated from them. But was it true release? Their souls scattered, leaving no trace in the world.

At last, the river dissipated.

Seeing his chance, Lu Ming soared forward, declaring, “No matter your excuses, you cannot forsake morality or human life.”

With that, he thrust his sword ahead, “Let this strike teach you what true morality means.”