Claiming the Throne of Gods, Starting from the Rebirth of Nezha
Chapter 243: Manjushri

Chapter 243: Chapter 243: Manjushri

The two were already within reach when Nezha stretched out his hand and grabbed Jinzha’s wrist.

The muscles on his forearm bulged, veins pulsing. At this moment, unless Jinzha decisively severed his arm, there was no way he could break free from Nezha’s grip.

"Nezha, how dare you!" Jinzha’s arm ached, and his complexion changed dramatically.

"I’ll make you disown your mother!"

Nezha punched Jinzha in the face. A burst of golden light appeared on Jinzha’s face, resisting Nezha’s flying fist. However, in less than a second, the golden light shattered into a rain of light, and the next moment, the proud nose bridge of Jinzha was flattened by the punch!

"Nezha, fellow cultivator, let’s talk this out!"

Nezha remained silent, only throwing punches.

"Ah——"

"Third brother!"

"Ah——, don’t hit the face!"

"Hiss, and definitely not... the manhood, third brother..."

After a bout of punching and kicking, Jinzha lost consciousness, covered in blood.

Nezha steadied his breathing, then bowed towards the empty cushion in front of him: "Nezha is young and immature, recklessly offending Heavenly Venerate. Please, Heavenly Venerate, punish me."

The incense within the hall suddenly spun around, then transformed into a straight line and shot towards the roof.

The two indentations on the cushion remained, but the golden threads along the edges had faded to gray, as if someone had meditated there for a thousand years, exhausting the splendor of the fabric.

No one responded, and Nezha silently withdrew.

As he stepped over the threshold, the setting sun passed over the lintel, stretching his shadow into a ferocious form with three heads and eight arms.

He saw the azure lion at the door, chuckled, and took out two pieces of pork from the Qiankun Bag, saying with a smile, "I wonder if the senior prefers it raw or cooked."

"How dare you!" A passing cultivator’s face changed drastically. He hurried over a few steps and scolded, "Don’t you know this is a place of purity, and the azure lion senior always eats vegetarian and doesn’t consume meat?"

Nezha was already in a bad mood, beating Jinzha didn’t ease his frustration in the slightest, and now this person was asking for trouble. Nezha laughed and said, "What, it’s okay for you to eat meat but not for the azure lion? What kind of logic is that?"

The Daoist’s complexion changed from blue to white in an instant, pointing a trembling finger at Nezha’s face: "Nonsense, which eye did you see me eating meat with?"

"Whether you ate or not, isn’t it clear in your heart?"

The azure lion nearby, seeing this, also chuckled and silently began gnawing on the raw pork.

"Look, the azure lion is a lion, the king of all beasts. Even zookeepers feed them meat. Why should it change to a vegetarian diet just because it’s at your Wulong Mountain?"

Nezha continued laughing, but the Daoist, overly shocked, stared at the meat-eating azure lion, standing on the spot, trembling and muttering:

"Unbelievable, unbelievable, once it eats meat, its Dao heart will be completely destroyed!"

"Nothing unbelievable about it. In Yuxu Palace, I drink wine and eat meat myself."

Nezha said this as he patted the Daoist on the shoulder. The force was a bit strong, and after two pats, he pushed the man into the soft soil, leaving only his head exposed.

He, though in the Golden Core Realm, wouldn’t die from this, but his bones were almost shattered by Nezha’s two pats. Getting out would require some effort.

When he came up the mountain, he walked step by step, leaving footprints all the way up. On the way down, he retreated the same path.

But unexpectedly, despite his agility, he found descending the mountain harder than climbing.

After several steps, he encountered a green-robed Taoist blocking the way in front of him.

The Taoist stood on the slippery sheep-gut trail, the mountain wind lifting the hem of his Daoist robe, revealing a cold iron sword scabbard.

The hem of the Daoist robe had a three-inch tear, revealing deerskin leg bindings. In his early thirties, an old scar about an inch long ran across his brow, giving a fierce look to his otherwise righteous face.

"Yunxiao Cave is no place for you to behave recklessly."

As soon as the Taoist spoke, a murderous aura surged forward, teeth gritting as if about to grind someone’s bones to dust.

Nezha glanced again and saw that the Qinggang Sword at his waist had drawn half an inch from its scabbard, sweeping a sharp killing intent along with the wind.

This was no Daoist Magic Sword but clearly a weapon that had drunk the blood of hundreds!

"You are not my match." Nezha’s decisive words immediately diminished the opponent’s imposing manner by half a measure.

The Taoist was startled, then immediately enraged, his hand unconsciously gripping the sword hilt.

He didn’t know who this Nezha was, but he could see that the other was in the Golden Immortal Realm just like him, so how could he possibly be inferior?

But there was no time to ponder, as Nezha had already taken large strides towards him!

In a confrontation between experts, victory or defeat is often decided in moments!

The Taoist’s face turned livid. He could sense an intangible pressure as Nezha advanced, yet he did not step back, gripping the sword hilt tightly.

The sword that had drawn half an inch from its sheath neither extended more nor retracted, showing how steady his hand was under such pressure.

But until Nezha brushed past him and walked down the mountain road, he couldn’t draw the sword.

So his imposing manner dissipated.

Soon after, Manjushri quietly appeared at his side, a calm expression, patting him on the shoulder.

"You’ve cultivated for a hundred years, and your prowess is not inferior to his, your swordsmanship even surpasses his. Even if he has the Nine-Pattern Divine Pill and an unrivaled body, along with the divine skill of three heads and eight arms, as long as you had drawn your sword just now, your chances of victory were still above fifty percent. And yet you lost, do you know why?"

The sword-wielding Taoist’s demeanor fell further, now resembling a villager gathering firewood rather than a warrior. But this was not demoralization; he was deliberately hiding all his sharpness.

The Taoist said, "Disciple does not know. I was planning to draw my sword."

"You lost in courage."

"Disciple does not understand. I wouldn’t be here if I lacked courage."

Manjushri smiled: "Of course I know. Since you took up the sword, you’ve killed a hundred and seven people, each one a tough opponent. But courage comes in different forms. You were a knight-errant who later took up the path of cultivation. Your boldness is naturally your forte."

The Taoist looked up: "And what about him?"

"His name is Nezha."

"He is Nezha?" The Taoist’s face showed surprise.

He had heard the name, of one who single-handedly defeated the Four Saints of Jiu Long Island from the Jie Sect. Nezha’s prowess was undoubtedly formidable. "I didn’t expect to meet him like this, in this place."

Manjushri sighed: "The encounters of heroes are often so unexpected."

The Taoist continued to ask, "Master hasn’t answered my question yet."

"When he faced you, even between life and death, he didn’t show any change in expression. That is true bravery."

Hearing this, the Taoist fell silent, not speaking for a long while.

"You may go down the mountain now."

"Master?"

"Don’t call me master. Your mind is on the Dao, not on Buddhism. Our master-disciple relationship ends here."

Manjushri walked away.

"Master!"

The Taoist hurriedly knelt, his head knocking against the stone steps, drawing blood.

"Oh yes, I have one more favor to ask. After you go down the mountain, kill a monk named Wu Xiang."

"Master?"

The Taoist was puzzled, but Manjushri seemed not to hear, walking up the mountain and laughing wildly, oblivious to all else.

"With Qi swallowing stars, refining the purple mansion, and sword cutting Yin and Yang, I, a Daoist, am becoming a Buddha!" Manjushri laughed heartily.

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