Volume One, Chapter Seventy-Nine: Has He Really Passed Away?

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Truly Gone?

At the very brink of disaster, the thick crystalline barrier formed by the Divine Soul Crystal within Tu Zhe’s Alaya-consciousness suddenly began to shatter, exploding into boundless, blood-hued soul force that swiftly expanded throughout the space of his Alaya-consciousness.

This immense soul force spread with incredible speed, directly meeting the Voidfire that surged toward Tu Zhe’s Spiritual Platform and Violet Palace.

The Voidfire ignited the blood-colored soul force, turning the Alaya space into a sea of flames. Yet, instead of causing his consciousness to collapse, the inferno further purified the divine soul force, rapidly stripping away its crimson hue until it became transparent, purer, more nourishing.

In the midst of agony and howling, Tu Zhe suddenly sensed that this purified soul force could be absorbed into his Alaya-consciousness at will, transforming into the power of his divine sense, making it stronger and more indestructible.

He guided the Voidfire with his mind toward more of the blood-hued crystalline walls; explosions followed at a faster pace, and the Voidfire was gradually consumed and finally extinguished amid countless detonations.

As the Voidfire faded, so too did Tu Zhe’s pain.

All the divine soul force surging through his Alaya-consciousness roiled like a tide, evolving into earth, fire, water, and wind.

In that moment, Tu Zhe noticed that his Alaya-consciousness domain was gradually expanding and solidifying. Land emerged, becoming a surface of azure jade; sky appeared, turning into a dome of blue crystal.

The appearance of earth and sky signaled that Tu Zhe’s Alaya-consciousness domain was on the verge of becoming the nascent world within his body—a grand, majestic beginning.

At this point, Tu Zhe was almost moved to tears of joy.

Meanwhile, the boundless, kingly Brahma Crystal continued to emit radiant, multicolored Brahma energy.

The Voidfire was spent, but Tu Zhe’s body was left in a devastating state: many meridians needed repair, countless cells required restoration, and the Brahma energy busied itself with these tasks.

In the Six Heavens of the Desire Realm, none of the celestials could utter a sound.

On the sky’s curtain, Tu Zhe—his entire body charred, nearly reduced to a piece of carbon—floated in the air, swaying gently in the breeze. He made no movement, not even the faintest wail; there was no sign of breath or life.

He drifted there, as still and silent as a block of wood.

Yueyi had bitten through her lips, her tears cleansing her face.

Old Rahu, having lost his composure, let his treasured celestial weapon drop to the ground, oblivious.

The Jin brothers covered their mouths, sobbing in silence.

Shudra, Reye Kara, and the other yakshas stood agape, unable to close their mouths, tears streaming down their faces unnoticed.

Had the Little Celestial truly departed?

Mu Xiuloutuo stood up, murderous intent burning in his eyes.

If Tu Zhe were dead, he would not be the only one to perish.

Those inside his ring—Little Lei, the three witch-sisters, and even the dog—would die with him.

This was unacceptable.

If it really were so, then the Dragon King Taitou Laizha would face eternal pursuit.

Mu Xiuloutuo made up his mind.

Mara could no longer utter a word.

He even forgot anger and grief. His once lively disciple had just been slain by Taitou Laizha?

How? How could it be?

Clearly, he could have fled into the past or future. With such powers, could anyone truly kill him?

Why did he feel so stunned?

Indra’s smile vanished, but inwardly he was laughing.

Weren’t you supposed to be unstoppable? Dead, are you? Ha!

Damn brat, you’ve made Mount Sumeru a mess since birth—sometimes Mu the Celestial Lord helps you, sometimes the old demon lends a hand, even my own wife finds you pleasing to the eye. If you kept living, I bet you’d put a green hat on me, ha!

But now you’re dead. I’m delighted.

But I can’t let it show—I must appear angry, bereaved, perhaps even squeeze out a few tears when I close my eyes. Is that what I should do? Something worth pondering.

Hulu Zhi was no longer crying or hating. Damn brat, you dared oppose me—now you’re dead?

Made me face the wall, made me lose face. Ever heard of retribution?

Hahahahahaha—

But I suppose it’s not appropriate for me to laugh out loud, is it? Ha!

The great dragon king Taitou Laizha stood upon the waves, silently watching Tu Zhe’s floating form.

Come on, brat, let’s see you come back to life.

Never since the Desire Realm’s heavens came into being had there been such simultaneous silence. From the Heavens of the Four Kings all the way to the Heaven of Autonomous Transformation, billions upon billions of celestials were struck dumb.

Tu Zhe, a Little Celestial barely a month old, had brought them unprecedented shock and excitement—or fear and hatred.

Yet, no matter their stance—whether they wished for Tu Zhe’s victory and safe return, or hoped for his demise—none could deny that this Little Celestial had shaken their hearts profoundly.

Tu Zhe’s very existence was a miracle conjured from thin air. Barely more than a month old, yet able to sweep aside Great Saints and confront Emperors. What a staggering impact.

If they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, who would believe it? Even boasting has its limits, does it not?

Yet now, this miracle drifted in the air, a blackened piece of charcoal.

Does every miracle share a common fate—ephemeral as a fleeting bloom, brilliant for an instant?

At this moment, Tu Zhe truly was encased in a carbonized shell—what had once been his living flesh.

Within that shell, Tu Zhe was undergoing the phoenix’s rebirth from the ashes.

Boundless Brahma energy surged through every meridian like a tide, nourishing his organs, flesh, and cells.

Those cells, which had just teetered on the edge of death, were instantly experiencing rejuvenation, fullness, division, and rebirth.

Observing all of this within himself, Tu Zhe thought: Isn’t this just like the miraculous ability of that Dushan’s Visionary Flesh? My body had been eighty percent destroyed by the Voidfire, but now, with the speed of cellular division and regeneration, every cell could be restored to perfection in a very short time.

He withdrew his divine sense back into the Alaya-consciousness space, examining it closely. He realized that this crisis had, in fact, been a tremendous stroke of fortune. He sensed vaguely that, just after ascending to God King strength, he was on the verge of another breakthrough.

Within his Alaya-consciousness, the primordial heaven and earth had been opened, though water, fire, and wind were still absent. Of the elements that compose a complete world, one had emerged.

That was earth.

He knew he must not be impatient, for reason told him that without the split-soul power of Ancestor Chiyou and the vast soul force of the Divine Soul Crystal, even if he cultivated for ten thousand years, his divine sense might never become so strong—let alone open up the space of Alaya-consciousness.

His ancestor’s Alaya-consciousness was confined to a space a million yojanas across. He knew that the burning of the Voidfire had refined a vast portion of the Divine Soul Crystal, expanding the space to nearly one and a half times its original size.

That is to say, Tu Zhe’s divine sense could now envelop a million yojanas—a strength rivaling the peak of a True Person.

Of course, this did not mean that Tu Zhe’s overall power had reached the pinnacle of a True Person. His greatest asset was the sheer might of his divine sense and his rapid mastery of the laws of time; as for other abilities, even if he possessed the Day-shading spell, he could hardly contend with a true Emperor.

Comprehending all the laws that compose a world—even with intelligence far surpassing most celestials—was not something Tu Zhe could accomplish in just a hundred years or so (and that’s counting the thirty thousand days he spent cultivating within the Lotus Heart).

Even at the same level, some may live for thousands or tens of thousands of years without comprehension; it depends on opportunity and luck, on one’s cultivation method, and on one’s approach.

Who, except Tu Zhe, has ever spent time in Mu Xiuloutuo’s Lotus Heart?