Section Fifteen: The Demon Emperor Trapped Within the Shell

The Tiger-faced Immortal shook his head in disbelief. “It was by this very immortal technique that I achieved the rank of Demon Emperor!” he declared.

Wuyun remained unmoved, but the pair to his left and right nearly collapsed with shock. A strange beast had descended—no less than a Demon Emperor! In the higher realms, known as the Twenty-Seventh Immortal World, a Demon Emperor was a being at the very pinnacle. Even the highest echelons of the Multi-space Chamber of Commerce, at best, only reached the rank of Immortal Emperor in the Immortal World. As for the even loftier God World, its inner workings were far beyond their reach.

“You, a Demon Emperor, dare to risk descending to the lower realm? Aren’t you afraid you might never return?” The Rainbow Tree Sprite, Luo Qinxing, had some inkling of matters in the upper worlds. Once, he had been a seed from a celestial tree, an adventurer from the higher realm. When he died, his storage space exploded, and only then did he take root in this land.

He had inherited all the memories of the mother tree from the Immortal World, granting him a partial understanding of the higher realms.

Among the remaining powerful beings, the Rainbow Tree Sprite and Nantian possessed the deepest reserves of magic. They merely observed from afar. Meanwhile, the Turtle-Serpent Daoist, summoned by the King of Seven Banners, suppressed his inner fear and charged toward the formation in which they were trapped.

A massive azure-shelled turtle, over a hundred meters long, intertwined with a crimson giant serpent, their bodies coiled together—though the serpent’s head swayed independently. This was the origin of the Turtle-Serpent Daoist: a seamless combination of offense and defense, an unassailable position!

The Serpent Daoist spat out over a hundred bolts of thunderous flame, striking the illusory bubble of the dream formation. Yet the bubble, like a thin mist, ignored the attacks and absorbed them, channeling the force onto the King of Seven Banners.

He and his twelve generals immediately felt the pressure intensify; their combined formation threatened to collapse.

Seeing his efforts fail, the Turtle-Serpent Daoist abruptly charged at the Tiger-faced Immortal, whose size dwarfed even his own. It seemed reckless, but the turtle’s shell shimmered with a protective shield, impervious to stray spells as he closed in on the Tiger-faced Immortal.

“Freeze!” the Tiger-faced Immortal intoned, uttering a command of power.

Instantly, the Turtle-Serpent Daoist was immobilized in midair. Only the four eyes of the turtle and serpent could move; all else was frozen in stasis.

“The Law of Spatial Constraint!” murmured Wuyun, describing the technique, prompting gasps from the surrounding warriors. If they failed to comprehend the meaning of space—if they did not grasp the power of spatial force—would they not be utterly helpless, doomed to total annihilation?

Wuyun smiled, turning to Xiong Laosan, the Battle King, and Liu Ruyan. “I, too, know this Law of Spatial Constraint. If you wish to learn, treat me to fine wine and good food in the future, and I promise you’ll master it!”

“Keep boasting,” Nantian snorted, keeping a wary eye on the unfolding events, poised to intervene should the Tiger-faced Immortal attack the Turtle-Serpent Daoist with magic.

The other strong ones watched as well, all ready to act.

“Boast all you like—there isn’t even a breeze here in space, so what’s left to blow?” Wuyun retorted dismissively. “But breaking this spell is simple. Heaven and earth are boundless, infinite; the Dao of Time, the existence of the cosmos, breath sustains all spaces, thought spans myriad worlds. True immobility lies in a tranquil heart…”

He recited a lengthy incantation, over a thousand words, leaving the Tiger-faced Immortal momentarily stupefied. The Turtle-Serpent Daoist, however, found his heart surging with enlightenment. Like a bolt of lightning, he broke free from the spatial constraint and charged the Tiger-faced Immortal.

The Tiger-faced Immortal remained dazed, even as the Turtle-Serpent Daoist readied his technique. Cooperating with a mighty artifact—the Ancient Turtle Shell—they trapped the enormous Tiger-faced Immortal inside.

The Serpent Daoist’s maw opened, and his tongue, sharp as a spear, darted for the center of the Ancient Turtle Shell. At its heart was a tiny aperture: one-way, designed to wound anything trapped within.

If the serpent’s tongue pierced the shell, surely it would impale the Tiger-faced Immortal.

A sharp crack rang out as the tongue broke through the shell, but the Serpent Daoist recoiled in shock. Blood gushed from his mouth; his tongue—his life-bound treasure, as dear to him as his own body—had vanished.

“Enlarge! Enlarge! Enlarge!” the Tiger-faced Immortal bellowed from within the shell. With each shout, his body grew, and the shell expanded with him.

When the Tiger-faced Immortal stretched to several kilometers, the shell finally reached its limit, swelling red-hot and close to bursting.

At that critical moment, Luo Mingxing, the ancient patriarch, intervened. He unfurled a nearly empty book, its two remaining covers opening to reveal a formation of twinkling stars that enveloped the Ancient Turtle Shell.

Countless talismans streamed from the formation, reinforcing the ancient shell and quelling its fevered heat by a third.

This book was truly extraordinary—no wonder that after it was seized by the Holy Overlord, the usually kind-hearted Luo Mingxing was driven mad, seeking vengeance against the disciples of Sword Mountain Sect!

“Watch me!” cried Luo Beixing, the Sevenfold Beast, stepping forward. He had long known the Turtle-Serpent Daoist and understood his abilities well. If even the Turtle-Serpent Daoist’s strongest move could not subdue the foe, then surely a one-sided slaughter would follow.

The Sevenfold Beast revealed his true form: a colossal seven-headed worm, each head fierce and menacing, spewing seven-colored silk. These strands wrapped layer upon layer around the Ancient Turtle Shell, infused with magical power and the influence of the hovering book pages, from which faint Buddhist chants seemed to emanate.

Who could have imagined that this seven-headed worm was a Buddhist cultivator?

“Twenty thousand years ago, a great Buddhist master from the upper world accidentally pierced the fabric of space, shining a ray of Buddhist light to guide a reincarnated Buddha-child. With that child, there was also a tiny caterpillar. It landed on the Buddha’s body at that moment,” recounted the Battle King, explaining the origin of the Sevenfold Beast with envy. “The Buddha-child, unwilling to harm the worm, let it absorb the Buddhist light. When the Buddha-child ascended, he left the worm behind in this world.”

“A truly remarkable creature,” Wuyun praised, for the Sevenfold Beast bore no karmic burdens. He sighed, “Buddhist light is the light of refuge. For this worm to attain Buddhahood is a thousandfold hardship. See how its seven heads correspond to the seven souls of a human; only by shedding six can it spin a cocoon and become a butterfly—a little Buddha. Yet, by abandoning those six lives, it can never reach the rank of Great Buddha. Such is the reality of the Buddhist realm!”

Wuyun’s non-stop chatter vexed the Sevenfold Beast, who suddenly spat out a gleaming silver silk from one of its heads. The strand, ten meters long and as thick as a child’s finger, was deftly caught and wrapped by Xiong Laosan with his treasure, the silkworm cocoon, before handing it to Wuyun.

Wuyun laughed heartily and, using a gentle flame, roasted the silk. A unique aroma wafted up, and under the astonished gaze of the Battle King and Liu Ruyan, he chewed slowly and ate it.

As he ate, he explained, “This isn’t a binding rope—it’s the cocoon silk he’ll use to transform. Such silk, born of mutated Buddhist light, is a rare tonic!”

He offered a taste to Xiong Laosan and the Battle King, who each sampled a bite and at once felt a flood of insight, as if enlightenment had struck them. Only Liu Ruyan, prideful, missed her chance. By the time the others realized what was happening and tried to stop Wuyun, he had already finished the silk.

Patting his belly while Xiong Laosan glared, Wuyun sheepishly said, “Though eating it won’t boost my cultivation, its Buddhist energy cleanses worldly defilements! Most importantly, the taste is superb—reminds me of a bowl of spring noodles from another world. What nostalgia!”