Volume One, Chapter Seventy-Six: The Great Art of Obscuring the Sun

Chapter Seventy-Six: Eclipse

Gazing at the distrustful expressions on the faces of the naga saints and great sages, Tu Zhe smiled faintly and sneered, "Don't think I'm like you. I always keep my word. If I say it, it will be done. Come at me, all of you!"

Long Yi felt a mix of grief and helplessness.

Are we really here to kill? And yet, we have to rely on our enemy’s promise not to use this power or that technique, and even then, we dare only fight by ganging up together? Is this not shameful? This is a disgrace to our ancestors. Even if we win, how could we ever admit it to anyone?

Oh dear—

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Mara began to mock them. Imagine! A gathering of great sages and saints, yet they need a child, barely born, to hold back for their sake. Do you truly think you can win just because he won’t use the laws of time?

Oh heavens, look! Our little emperor is true to his promise and hasn’t used the laws of time. But then, what is this? Open your eyes wide! What is happening beneath the vast, boundless heavens?

In that moment, Tu Zhe silently invoked Eclipse. A colossal hand stretched out, grasping deep into space. Instantly, the very fabric of the world trembled—earth quaked, void distorted—and countless comets, trailing their long, luminous tails, tore through the sky by the hundreds of thousands.

In an instant, comets of all sizes blanketed the heavens, turning day into night. Only the interwoven lights of their tails remained visible, as each comet, carrying unimaginable force, rained down upon the naga great sages and saints like a barrage of cannonballs.

Oh dear—

What a spectacle this is, celestial hosts! All rules are shattered, the paths of the stars thrown into chaos. Wandering comets from across the myriad realms—these are death’s curses, echoing the same apocalyptic scene from the war between the heavens and the Asuras long ago.

I cannot help but suspect that the naga, like the Lord of Renli Sky, have received the Buddha’s “Sutra of the Benevolent King Protecting the Nation.” We know this is the only method known to suppress Eclipse. Without it, trust my judgment—destruction awaits the naga. Well, you know what I mean...

Indra was nearly driven mad.

Damn you, old Rahu! So you really did teach Eclipse to this little brat? I’m your son-in-law, am I not? When did you ever think to teach me?

And as for that damned Mara, you just wait—one day, I’ll make you pay for this.

Within the city of Mahabodhi, old Rahu laughed heartily. “What did I tell you? Is my godson so weak as to be defeated? If you want my son’s life, you’d best have the skill!”

He turned to his daughter. “My girl, haven’t I treated your brother well enough?”

Yueyi shot her father a glance, her cheeks glowing red, and promptly turned away, refusing to acknowledge him.

Meanwhile, Long Yi and the other naga powerhouses were stunned, their faces draining of color. They hastily cast protective wards and unleashed every manner of spell to intercept the incoming comets.

A thundering cacophony filled the sky. Some smaller comets shattered, scattering icy fragments everywhere; others, as large as planets, could only be broken into chunks even under the joint assault of the naga. Still, these fragments plummeted towards the crowd.

The twenty-four naga great sages fared better—their cultivation was formidable, and the rain of comets, however vast, could not immediately harm them. But the lesser saints were not so fortunate. Struck time and again, their protective barriers quickly lost their luster, on the verge of shattering.

Within mere moments, one after another, some saints’ barriers gave out under the relentless barrage. Comets smashed into their flesh directly—though the naga were renowned for their powerful bodies, how could they withstand such an endless onslaught?

A scream had barely erupted before its source was crushed, reduced to a grotesque mass of flesh scattered in the air. Their souls? Trapped amid the unrelenting storm of comets, where could such fragile spirits hope to escape? There was only one fate: utter annihilation.

Oh dear—

Without doubt, this was a massacre.

How vast is the Great Saline Sea? It’s difficult to measure. The territories of the Three Dragon Kings and the Four Asura Kings are each no less than eighty thousand yojanas across, yet together they occupy barely a millionth of the sea. You could throw in a few Earth-sized planets and their combined area would be almost negligible.

But if hundreds of thousands of comets crashed into the sea, concentrated upon a single region, would it truly leave no mark? That would be hard to believe. Some comets were as large as mountains, others larger than Earth itself, each carrying an ancient, primordial chill from the dawn of the world. What sort of terror would it be to see them plunge into the sea?

The saints of the naga were smashed and scattered without mercy, and those who managed to survive could barely breathe under the freezing cold that blanketed millions of miles.

The shattered comets hurled a countless multitude of ice shards into the sea. Vast regions instantly froze under a steel-thick, no—an ice cap, dozens or even a hundred yojanas thick.

Faced with this, the saints who could not withstand the onslaught and wanted to escape into the depths of the sea fell into despair. How could they possibly fly out of the comet storm’s reach, or break through this immense ice cap to flee?

Death was all that awaited them.

At that moment, Tu Zhe’s eyebrows arched. He gazed towards the edge of the comet storm. With a cold laugh, he swept his arm and, with a wave, swept up the barking, overexcited Dog, Little Lei, and the Three Demonesses into a peculiar ring. This ring was, in fact, a nascent world of its own, replete with Brahma energy, where living beings could remain safe.

Now, among the chaos, the twenty-four remaining naga great sages realized that if this continued, every saint would perish—a loss too great for their race to bear.

Catch the ringleader first! Long Yi roared, “I’ll carve a path in blood! Follow me, and kill that little wretch!”

At his cry, the great sages bellowed as one. Dragon roars shook the heavens, shattering comets to dust. Long Yi surged forward, his massive claws slashing wildly, forging a channel through the comet storm straight towards Tu Zhe. He used all his might to hold this path open, shattering any comet that dared approach.

The other twenty-three great sages roared, “Kill—!” In an instant, they transformed into their dragon forms—scales bristling, claws slashing, horns gleaming, jaws roaring. Some breathed fire, some unleashed hurricanes, others summoned lightning from their horns, each unleashing their might to annihilate Tu Zhe.

Yet Tu Zhe stood with hands clasped behind his back, his eyes half-closed, silently intoning: “God of Time, I don’t know who you are, but right now, I need to toss these fellows ten years into the past. Don’t let me down...”

He visualized a great river flowing before him, his fingers weaving an incomprehensible seal, tracing strange patterns in the air. The roar of rushing water suddenly filled the world.

A boundless river manifested, sweeping around him in a graceful arc, curling behind his back. The waters of time shimmered with mysterious ripples, tracing the path of his hand seal.

At that very moment, the attacks of the twenty-three naga great sages arrived—but they, along with all their assaults, plunged headlong into the river of time.

The moment they touched the river, they found themselves powerless, like helpless driftwood tossed by the current. They struggled desperately, terrified, but it was useless.

Before their very eyes, the twenty-three naga great sages were swept along, carried past Tu Zhe, borne away behind him—onward, backward, until they vanished into the past.