Chapter 213 — The Inner Demon

In truth, the Fuxing Tripod's power had long since become unrecognizable over these ten years. With the aid of Mr. Gui, Hades had deciphered the inscriptions on the vessel and gathered the vital essence of spirit beasts to activate the "Four Spirits Blood Array." At present the Fuxing Tripod already held the spiritual power of three divine beasts — the Kui Ox, the Yellow Bird, and the Torch Dragon. Taotie, though a beast of another order, was decidedly the weaker against the power of those three; and moreover this ancient artifact, the Fuxing Tripod, possessed a strange magic of its own — the stronger the spirit beasts' power, the more fearsome the demonic force of the Four Spirits Blood Array it drew forth. At the first clash, Taotie was instantly subdued.

Now the red light flickered, seeming almost solid, wrapping and binding Taotie's huge body tight. Taotie trembled all over, in the utmost agony, yet could not stir in the slightest; even the roars from its throat swiftly sank low, leaving only the sound of panting.

In the stone chamber the reek of blood grew heavier. Hades gazed at Taotie, sprawled on the ground and unable to move, a wild joy flashing in his eyes; suddenly he threw back his head and laughed aloud, his manner utterly unlike his usual self, like a madman.

At this strange moment, suddenly came a furious "squeak-squeak-squeak-squeak," and Taotie, bound tight by the red light, turned its head with difficulty to look — and there indeed was Little Gray, who had resolutely leapt into the air and bounded to Taotie's side, reaching out a hand to help. But the red light, though it looked a mere phantom glow, made Little Gray cry out the moment its hand touched it, and it sprang away, having plainly come off the worse.

Little Gray bared its teeth and grimaced, furious beyond measure, showing its fangs at Hades in open provocation. Hades — at what point none could say — beneath that flickering, blood-red glow, had seen his own eyes turn blood red. Now he wheeled about, killing intent surging in an instant; without another word a gust of black qi leapt up and shot straight out from the red light at Little Gray.

Little Gray was, of course, no oil lamp to be snuffed out so easily. The good-for-nothing monkey, angry though it was, could see the vicious gleam trembling in that black qi and would not meet it head-on; it sprang aside several times in succession and dodged clear.

The strike missed. With a long cry Hades's black qi suddenly doubled in speed, and at the same time seemed to divide into several streaks, each black bolt like lightning, slashing down from every direction.

The little devil dodged and darted, using hands and feet alike, barely slipping clear in the space between a hair's breadth, yet its peril was plain to see — several times it came near to being struck by the black qi. And Hades, for some reason, showed not the least mercy even toward such a monkey; within the black qi came suddenly another low cry, and wind and cloud gathered to congeal out of thin air a blood-red palm that smote down from above. Little Gray, already hard pressed on every side by the black qi, now had no road left to retreat; it seemed certain it would be struck by that blood-red palm print.

At this critical juncture, an arm suddenly reached out from the side, passed through the whistling, murderous black qi and bloody glow, seized the monkey by the tail, and tugged; Little Gray's body flew up at once and hurtled backward, and the savage black qi that had blocked its way behind it had, at some unknown moment, been scattered aside.

Little Gray flew clear and unharmed, escaped from death; but Hades, hidden deep in the red glow, seemed to utter a roar of fury, his murderous aura swelling higher. The surrounding black qi and red glow congealed in an instant into form, and a huge red palm print smote down at that sudden arm; and behind the red glow the Fuxing Tripod slowly began to turn, strange lights flowing within its body, the eerie incantation faintly visible and hidden, the whole chamber steeped in the intent of slaughter.

The bloody glow dazzled the eye; in a flicker, the figure of Ming Li appeared, his face dark as deep water — it was he who had saved Little Gray's life at the last instant. At the same time, he now found himself facing the eerie demonic power of the Fuxing Tripod, which Hades, for reasons unknown, had begun to rouse and would not let rest.

The whistling sound grew ever more shrill and bitter; within the blood-red palm print there suddenly flickered, faint and hidden, strange runes in the shape of the ancient tripod, and it came straight at him. Ming Li's brows knit tight, yet facing this peerless demonic art he showed no thought of retreat; he raised both arms and, before the blood-red palm print that flew swift as lightning could arrive, traced in the empty air before him the pattern of a Taiji.

A blue light sprang up, like a clear spring pouring into long-parched earth; the whole room's aura of blood and slaughter was shaken. The Taiji diagram shimmered with pure qi — it was the orthodox and unalloyed wondrous art of the Canglan Sect, the "Taiji Xuanqing Dao."

The blood-red print came thundering down the next instant and struck the Taiji diagram.

Beyond all expectation, there was no earth-shaking crash, no mighty shock; on the contrary, it was like a mud ox sinking into a muddy pool, without the slightest sound. Only that red blood print was held fast in midair, unable to advance a step further; and Ming Li's face flushed instantly crimson, as though blood would drip from it.

A sharp gleam flashed in Ming Li's eyes; he cast one deep look into the depths of the red glow, gave a cold snort, and shifted his feet to retreat. With every step he fell back, the red print pressed forward a fraction; and at the same time, with every step he fell back, his hands never paused an instant — fingers bent and rose, mudras shifting, and between his palms the Taiji pattern shone with clear light and did not weaken in the least.

At the third step back, his hands formed the treasure vase mudra, and the strange crimson on his face had eased; the edge of the Taiji diagram had begun to radiate a faint golden sheen. At the fifth step back, his hands shifted to the flower-plucking mudra, and gold and blue light shone upon each other in the Taiji diagram. And when he had retreated seven steps, Ming Li's back was to the stone wall, no road left to retreat; yet at this moment his face had returned to its normal hue, with no trace of the strange crimson.

With a shake of both hands, Ming Li had formed the Buddhist vajra mudra.

In an instant the golden light blazed forth, and the radiance of solemn dharma streamed out on every side, as though Buddhas and gods were softly chanting sutras all around, deep and melodious; the Taiji Diagram whirled madly, its golden brilliance dazzling, and the red blood-seal was gradually swallowed up by that Taiji Diagram and vanished without a trace.

The sky was filled with a dazzling light of gold and azure that shot straight upward, and it actually pressed the Nether King's blood-red radiance back. And deep within that red glow came a furious roar — clearly the man was in a towering rage; the red light flickered, there were a few mournful cries, and the Taotie on the ground was drawn in by the red light, its enormous body sucked into the Coiled Dragon Cauldron in the blink of an eye and gone.

Then the Nether King's features gradually emerged from within the red radiance; his white hair flew wildly, his eyes were crimson, his killing intent flared — no trace remained of his usual composed bearing; he was nearly a murderous fiend. And yet Mingli showed not the slightest fear; instead he strode forward, pressing in close.