Marquis of Grand Xia Chapter 124

The soldiers in the hidden chamber got quite the surprise when Ning Chen entered with the two Vajras. What was their Marquis doing here when they had yet to find anything?

"Sir," the soldiers bowed, and greeted respectfully.

"Mhm, you may all stand aside," Ning Chen said with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, sir," the soldiers rose, and made s.p.a.ce for him within the hidden chamber.

"Now talk, where is the stone tablet?" Ning Chen eyed the two, and said dryly.

The two Vajras walked over to the stone pedestal which had previously held the wooden shrine, and said, "Right below here."

Ning Chen walked forward and gave the stone pedestal a push, but it did not budge a hair. He frowned in spite of himself, and asked, "Is there a hidden switch?"

"There is none," they shook their heads and replied.

Ning Chen nodded. Another one to be smashed then - very well, it was an area he excelled in.

With a clang the Ink Sword flew out of its scabbard, and a huge noise followed as the stone pedestal shattered into pieces and scattered across the floor.

Digging half a foot beneath the shattered pedestal's location revealed a damaged stone tablet. It was clearly an object of some history as the words and images carved into it had become blurred.

Ning Chen gazed at the stone tablet for a long time, his frown deepening as he stared. The head of the Forbidden Guards, who happened to be standing nearby, came closer and upon seeing the contents of the stone tablet, his expression changed.

"Sir," the commander began, looking concerned.

"Save your words, I will exercise discretion," Ning Chen cut off the former's words with a gesture of his hand.

The origin of the golden short sword was carved onto the stone tablet. As he suspected, it wasn't a weapon of the Buddhist faith, but rather a demonic weapon which had a storied past.

Long ago, the owner of that sword bore a great grudge against the Buddhist faith, and had used it to slaughter countless Buddhist followers, drenching in their blood.

Ultimately, the first abbot of the Western Doya temple could endure it no longer, and brought to bear all the powers of the Buddhist Nation to fight him. After all a b.l.o.o.d.y battle that lasted for two days, the sword's owner was finally slain and the sword was sealed beneath the temple for three thousand years, using the seal of the great Buddha's power to contain the resentment within that blade.

That blade was filled to the brim with its master's hatred towards the Buddhist faith, and the dying curses of the ten thousand Buddhist followers.

Buddhists believed in reincarnation, and there was nothing they feared more than thoughts of hatred. That period of history had always been a taboo subject for the Buddhists, one that was to be buried deep in the darkness of the underground and never to see the light of day.

The vengeful weapon had lost its original form while it was sealed by the grand Buddhist art, and transformed into a sacred artifact of Buddhism which glowed with its characteristic golden light. However, that did not mean that the resentment within had completely disappeared.

There were no specific instructions on how the seal could be removed. The Buddhists were no fools after all; they had no wish for that demonic weapon to reappear in the world.

However, the first half of the stone tablet's text had already explained that it was a vengeful weapon forged from the blood of Buddhist followers, which had only transformed into a holy tool because it had been sealed.

In other words, as long as the power of hatred was greater than the Buddhist power, that sword would become unsealed once again.

Since the Buddhist power could suppress hatred, then hatred could similarly suppress Buddhist power. The forces of Buddha and the demonic path countered each other.

It wouldn't be long before they would have to deal with a Xiantian Buddhist of the Third Calamity. Any power that could suppress him would be a great help.

"Sir, Buddhist followers are gathering by the foot of the mountain, and are about to rush up the mountain!" At that moment, a soldier hurried over and reported the news.

"Sir Marquis!" There was a slight change in the commander's expression as he anxiously spoke up.

"There's no need to say any more!"

Ning Chen raised his hand to stop him, eyed the soldiers surrounding them, and said coldly, "Everyone, follow me outside."

"Yes, sir," the soldiers respectfully obeyed.

That Buddha of the Buddhist Nation must have already received the news, and was on the way back. He mustn't hesitate any longer.

At the foot of the mountain, Buddhist followers continued to stream in droves of black silhouettes. In the just the blink of an eye, their numbers crossed the ten thousand threshold.

Ning Chen descended the mountain with his three hundred Forbidden Guardsmen. Watching the crowds at the foot of the mountain grow, his eyes grew ever colder.

Just like that, the Buddhist followers continued to stream in from distant places while the soldiers silently awaited their orders behind Ning Chen.

"You bunch of demons! Begone from this sacred mountain!" In the midst of the bustling crowds, one Buddhist follower hollered, his courage bolstered by their numbers.

"Begone from this sacred mountain!" Other followers echoed his furious words.

The voices of tens of thousands were like thunder cras.h.i.+ng through the darkening night sky, a deafening sound that could be heard for hundreds of miles.

Ning Chen coldly eyed the frenzied Buddhist followers before him. There was neither fury nor pity in his eyes, but only a cold calmness.

Fools who had lost themselves to confusion deserved no pity. Compared to the soldiers of Grand Xia who were still battling in a shower of blood, they were nothing.

The sounds of the crowd eventually grew weaker as they saw that the demons before them were entirely unmoved.

At that moment, Ning Chen spoke, in a voice full of mockery, "In the eyes of your Buddha you are nothing but a bunch of fools - of course, in the eyes of this Marquis, you are even less than that!"

Upon hearing those words the crowd instantly erupted, the flames of their fury peaked, and they swarmed up the mountain.

The clash began, and with one move from Ning Chen, the golden short sword in his cut a terrible swath through the air. In that instant, severed limbs filled the air, along with a shower of fresh blood.

"Kill them, leave none alive," Ning Chen ordered icily.

"Yes, sir."

The three hundred Forbidden Guardsmen received their orders, drew their blades as one, and without a moment's hesitation, began slaughtering away.

From that point on, sounds of terror came one after another within the holy ground, yet the merciless blade never slowed down.

The difference between unorganized civilians and trained soldiers was so great it defied imagination. There, before the Mijie Mountain, pure unadulterated slaughter reigned.

Fresh blood gushed forth, forming trenches in the earth as it washed away the soil and meandered across the lands.

Ning Chen stood on the stone platform before the mountain and brought out the golden short sword to bath it in sacrifices. With every turn of his hand, the blood from below rose into the air, forming into streams which flew towards the golden short sword floating in mid-air.

The short sword blazed with golden light as it hovered constantly resisting the corrosion of the jets of blood.

The slaughter continued and blood flowed. The air was thick with fury, fear, hatred and despair that soon congealed within the spilled blood.

The Buddha's light within the sword grew stronger, and the hatred in the jets of blood grew thicker. Each time the two collided, the piercing sounds of hisses could be heard.

It was the most tragic night of Buddha country. Tonight, there was no place for Buddhism except as a silent, helpless witness to the merciless slaughter by the demons from Grand Xia.

The soldiers of Grand Xia had the strictest discipline in the world, and were instilled with the ideals of absolute obedience long ago. The moment they received their mission instructions, they had had no doubts and no hesitations whatsoever.

The streams of blood in the sky grew ever bloodier. Soon, even the Buddha's holy light wasn't able to contain them and was gradually drowned out.

Three hundred miles away, the head abbot and his three dharmapalas were stunned by the powerful hatred in the distance, faces blanching in shock.

At the same time, in a distant look, a look of deep worry crossed Qing Ning's face. In a flash, she sped off in the direction of Mijie Mountain, running faster than ever before.

Under the holy mountain, the screams for help grew faint as the remaining survivors dwindled. Amidst all that, the golden short sword began to sing - it was almost time for the seal to break.

"BOOM."

An instant later, the last traces of light burst out from the golden sword, and shattered. At the same time, hatred gushed from the blade with a huge bang and shot up into the sky, distorting the jets of blood around it to form a single gigantic pillar of blood that pierced both the earth and the heavens.

The vengeful sword had reappeared and blood rained upon the world as though the Buddha in heaven was crying tears of blood for this calamity in the mortal realm.

As the blood rained from the heavens, the vengeful sword gradually revealed its shape. Its appearance had greatly changed into one of a three-foot-long sword, etched with blood veins spreading over its surface and overflowing with demonic aura. Just looking at it, one was struck by a bone-chilling coldness.

At the base of Mijie Mountain, three hundred soldiers stood there bathed in the rain of blood with no one else left standing around them. They knew that from that day on, they would be the most evil people in the world.

Ning Chen said nothing, wasting no words on apologies, as he stood there in the blood rain quietly awaiting the impending arrival of the Buddha.

One hour later, four powerful figures slowly loomed over the horizon. With every step they took, the ground gave a tremble. These were the four most powerful beings in the Buddhist faith, beings who were revered as G.o.ds.

*boom, boom, boom, boom*

As the four drew nearer, the bodies in their way were sent flying from the earth's tremors. Not a single drop of blood stained their holy garments, which remained entirely untarnished.

"You will hold those three off," Ning Chen glanced at the commander and ordered, holding the Bloodvein Blade in his hand.

"Yes, sir!"

This was to be the final battle. There was no knowing what the end result would be, but they had no other choice.

The three dharmapalas who stood at the peak of Ninth-grade were, discounting the Xiantian, the most powerful people in the world. They gave off an resolute and terrible pressure just by standing there.

In comparison, the abbot of the Western Doya Temple seemed more ordinary. He was calm and reserved, without the aura of a warrior.

However, all who were present knew that it was only an illusion. The mortal Buddha had proven his power countless times before.

Ning Chen stood in the path of the mortal buddha, never looking back and completely without hesitation.

"Demonic heathens, your heinous crimes have piled as high as the sky itself. Even the merciful Buddha cannot tolerate this, Amitabha!"

The head abbot of the Western Doya Temple pressed his hands together as he uttered those words. A moment later, he was surrounded by golden light.

The battle to execute the demon had begun…

"There is no Buddha in this world - all that exists are the lies spouted by a bunch of bald donkeys. My crimes will be punished by heaven, and not by the likes of you!"

As he spoke those words, the vengeful sword in Ning Chen's hand blazed with a b.l.o.o.d.y glow. Everything within ten miles was stained red, reaching so far as to obscure the moon and the sky.

In that moment, the three dharmapalas couldn't help but felt a clot in their internal cultivation bodies. With their Buddhist powers suppressed, they found it difficult to call them their mighty arts.

"The will of the heavens cannot be denied after all!" The head abbot sighed softly and took a half-step forward, no longer concealing the murderous intent in his eyes.

In that instant, a beautiful figure in green appeared in the s.p.a.ce of a single breath, and landed in between the two.

"Sorry I'm late," Qing Ning apologized.

"Not at all, you're in time to send him off to meet his Buddha," Ning Chen said icily, his expression unchanging.

"Insolent brat!" With a stomp of his feet, the head abbot transformed into a  wrathful Vajrasattva, and rushed forward with his Buddha's Palm.

Clang. A silver spear swept through the air and Qing Ning backed up a few steps, her expression changing.

The abbot was slower than before, and the power behind his blows had greatly weakened.

He was still powerful, but he was no longer that unbeatable power they fought at Nan Li.

Ning Chen activated his cultivation body by another thirty percent and sent a message forth to Qing Ning, "There's no need to overthink this battle. This Bloodvein Blade was once owned by an all-mighty Xiantian master, and had collected countless grudges. Because of that, it has the ability to counter the Buddhist arts of these bald donkeys. However, I can't keep this up for long - we need to end this quickly. Also, the weak point of the indestructible adamantine body is in the Danzhong."

"Got it!" Qing Ning replied, looking grave.