Unintended Immortality
Chapter 566: The Daoist Has Arrived

Chapter 566: The Daoist Has Arrived

“Rumble...”

Suddenly, a deafening clap of thunder rolled outside.

Through the wide-open doors of the great hall, one could see the sky outside, covered in dense, churning clouds. A violent wind howled through the air, and in the distance, flashes of lightning flickered ominously. It seemed that this place, too, was welcoming the final thunderstorm of the season as summer turned to autumn.

Yet, within the hall, among the three hundred sixty-eight monks, not a single pair of eyes turned to witness the storm.

Every monk—regardless of height or weight, whether seated at the front or the back, whether near or far—had their necks stretched out, staring at the seven-colored glazed platform and the shimmering spiritual resonance upon it. None of them seemed to care about the strain on their necks.

“Boom!”

A bolt of Heavenly Thunder exploded directly overhead.

Among the monks, some were highly accomplished, their faith unshaken, their gazes fixed unwaveringly on the water-like spiritual resonance atop the platform. Others, though still devoted, retained a lingering fear of divine wrath, and their bodies trembled instinctively at the thunder. Yet, even as they quivered, not a single one was willing to shift their gaze away.

Some monks were even murmuring scriptures under their breath, but it had become nothing more than an unconscious habit. Their full attention remained locked onto the treasure before them.

As if merely looking at it was already the greatest joy, the highest fulfillment—true bliss beyond anything in the mortal world.

All of them moved in perfect unison. For a moment, the scene felt eerily unnatural.

The sound of rain grew clearer.

Until—

A sudden thud echoed from the temple entrance.

A burly, middle-aged figure, also clad in a monk's robe, stumbled in, panting. His face had been full of panic and urgency, but the moment he stepped over the threshold, steadied himself, and caught sight of the ethereal spiritual resonance shimmering atop the seven-colored, six-tiered platform, his expression turned dazed.

Fortunately, not everyone in the hall was completely enthralled. Some still retained a measure of clarity, and his abrupt entrance startled them. Reluctantly tearing their gazes away from above, their expressions quickly turned to anger as they reprimanded him.

“How did you get in here?”

“Do you think this is a place for the likes of you?”

“Even the treasure is beyond your right to look at!”

“What happened? Speak quickly!”

The yellow-robed monk who had just entered was startled by the scolding and suddenly remembered why he had come. Stammering, he reported, “Blessed One and all the esteemed Bodhisattvas and Arhats, there is a cultivator outside the mountain who has broken in! It’s that Great Yan Daoist we encountered that night. I fear he has come to seize our treasure!”

“Seize the treasure?”

Only then did the hall erupt in alarm as the monks snapped out of their daze.

“Who dares seize the treasure?”

“Where is this intruder?”

“Who would be so bold?”

The hall instantly became a cacophony of voices, with all eyes turning toward the newly arrived monk.

Still flustered, he hurriedly added, “Blessed One, revered Bodhisattvas and Arhats, the Daoist is now only ten li away! Many senior brothers have gone to stop him, but none can hold him back.” Even as he spoke, he couldn't help but glance upward again.

Every time his eyes landed on the spiritual resonance, he froze momentarily. “Please, Blessed One, revered Bodhisattvas and Arhats, go and see for yourselves!”

“Go? Who will go?”

“Senior Brother, you should go!”

“You go! I must stay and guard the treasure!”

“I must guard the treasure too!”

“Let the Blessed One decide! We shall follow his will!”

“Blessed One!”

The monks all turned to the corpulent monk seated at the highest position.

Yet, the large-bellied monk kept his gaze fixed on the spiritual resonance, not even lifting his head as he said, “So many of our disciples cannot stop him? Then he is indeed formidable. Let the emissaries go together.”

“Then we...”

“Those who went last time have already worked hard. You need not go again. Stay here and observe the treasure with me.”

“Understood...”

The hundred-plus yellow-robed monks seated at the lowest tier were filled with reluctance, but they were even more unwilling to let that Daoist reach this place and seize the treasure. Not daring to disobey the Blessed One’s command, they all rose together, reluctantly tearing their gaze away.

Turning their heads with great difficulty, they strode away at an astonishing pace. As they moved, it was as if they were treading on the wind, all hoping to return as quickly as possible.

The monk who had delivered the message retreated into a corner, hoping to linger and gaze a little longer upon this supreme treasure of heaven and earth. However, he was soon noticed and swiftly driven out.

“Boom!”

Outside, the thunder grew sharper and more deafening. The sound of rain became even more chaotic and intense.

Not even fifteen minutes had passed when...

“Thud!”

The emissary monk returned.

By now, he was completely drenched, his soaked robes clinging to his body, outlining his muscular physique. Yet, he was in an even greater panic, his steps unsteady. As he stumbled over the threshold, he fell forward, landing face-first onto the grand hall’s floor, leaving a puddle of rainwater behind.

“Blessed One and the esteemed Bodhisattvas and Arhats, more than a hundred emissaries have gone, but none could stop him! Now, he is only five li from the great monastery!”

Upon hearing this, the monks in the hall were utterly shocked.

“How could this be?”

“Even if he is powerful, he shouldn’t be able to break through over a hundred emissaries together!”

“I heard he possesses a treasure!”

“Could it be the artifact that melts Mystical Ice?”

“What should we do now?”

The entire hall erupted in anxious discussion.

Meanwhile, the drenched monk remained where he was, craning his neck and staring longingly at the spiritual resonance atop the glazed platform, savoring a brief moment of bliss.

The large-bellied monk, his gaze still fixed upon the spiritual resonance, spoke once more without lifting his head, “Since this is the case, let the Arhats go as well.”

“Understood...”

Another hundred-plus monks stood up.

Some spun once in place and immediately vanished into thin air, having activated their escape techniques. Others swept their sleeves, transforming into gusts of yellow wind as they rushed out of the hall—demonstrating, indeed, some level of true skill.

“Rumble...”

The thunder outside grew louder, pressing ever closer, bringing with it an oppressive, suffocating weight.

Rain pounded against the temple rooftops, creating a continuous, deafening roar. Water streamed down from the eaves in unbroken columns, while droplets slid from the rain bells, making them sway and chime with soft, echoing ding-dong sounds.

Inside the grand hall, a subtle wave of unease began to spread. Yet many monks still kept their gazes locked onto the supreme treasure above, indifferent to the raging storm outside—or to the Daoist who was steadily closing in on them.

“Bang...”

A fierce gust of wind slammed the temple doors shut.

Rainwater was blown inside, splattering across the floor.

And carried in by the wind—along with the rain—was yet another terrified emissary monk.

“Disaster!”

This time, the emissary monk didn’t even spare the glazed platform above a single glance. Stumbling and staggering into the hall, he could barely stand before collapsing onto his knees. From all four directions, angry or skeptical glares bore down on him, making him tremble even more.

“Even the Arhats couldn’t stop him—he’s only two li away now!”

“...”

The hall fell silent.

Everyone was shocked, exchanging bewildered looks.

“Impossible!”

“You’d best not be giving a false report!”

“The Arhats each possess profound cultivation, immense magical power, and unique abilities—not to mention their sheer numbers! How could they fail to stop him?”

“This...”

The emissary monk remained prostrate on the ground, shivering uncontrollably.

At that moment, the monks knew—this was no false report. A truly formidable, transcendent power had arrived at their doorstep.

Their eyes widened.

Especially those senior monks who had been outside Jade City that night and had seen the Daoist before. In their minds, his figure resurfaced—the image of a lone, young Daoist, bamboo staff in hand, walking unshaken through the storm in the mountain ranges. One hundred emissaries had failed to halt his steps. One hundred Arhats had not managed to hold him back.

The monks turned their gazes upward once more.

There, slumped into his seat, was an enormously fat monk—so round that his waist was nearly as wide as his height, his entire mass spilling over the throne-like chair. He lazily waved a hand and said, “Let all the Bodhisattvas go...”

“This...”

Faced with such a thoughtless command, the monks exchanged glances. Unable to hold back, someone finally spoke up:

“Blessed One, that man hails from Great Yan—he must be incredibly powerful. For the sake of the treasure, perhaps the Blessed One should personally accompany us to take a look.”

The words “for the sake of the treasure” struck a chord with the large-bellied monk.

The large-bellied monk hesitated.

For the first time, he finally tore his gaze away from the water-element spiritual resonance and looked outside. All he saw was a sky filled with wind and rain, lightning flashing incessantly—but even so, he was unwilling to leave.

“Bring me my treasured incense burner!”

His voice boomed like thunder.

At once, a monk transformed into a gust of wind and disappeared.

Within mere moments, a redwood table appeared atop the high platform, upon which sat an exquisitely crafted pure gold incense burner. The large-bellied monk picked up three slender incense sticks and lit them.

These incense sticks were so thin they could slip into an ear canal, and in his massive, fat-fingered hand, they looked as delicate as strands of hair. With a simple motion, he inserted them into the burner. He made no other movements, yet the pure gold incense burner suddenly radiated a brilliant golden light.

The red ember at the tip of the incense sticks flared, and in an instant, they burned away completely—reduced to nothing but thick, swirling smoke.

The dense smoke did not disperse. Even as the wind gusted into the hall, it merely shifted and changed shape but refused to be scattered.

The incense burner gleamed golden below.

And within the rising smoke above, light and shadow flickered.

A scene began to take form—first hazy, then gradually sharpening into clarity, revealing a storm-lashed mountain forest.

Dark clouds blotted out the sky. The rain fell in dense sheets, enshrouding the land in misty gloom, casting the entire world into murky darkness.

Yet beneath the storm-filled heavens, a black figure streaked like lightning through the rain.

Down below, a young girl riding a tiger charged forward, her path surrounded by wolves and tigers, accompanied by demons and towering stone giants, all surging forward together to break through the storm.

The scene was one of violent intensity.

All around, silhouettes rushed madly through the dense forest—beasts of this realm, monsters that belonged to this land. Some had taken human form, dressed in monk robes. Others remained in their true bestial shapes.

Some were converging from the distance to block their path; some were chasing from behind. Some were gathering ahead to cut them off, while some burst from the dense woods in sudden ambush.

Yet—

The swallow’s wings could not only slice through the wind and rain, but as it flew, it also drew upon the might of heaven’s thunder.

The storm had already stirred the skies into restless fury, countless bolts of lightning poised for release.

The figure above soared effortlessly, darting through the tempest with uncanny agility. Whenever he spotted an approaching demon, all he had to do was casually gesture, subtly guide—and in an instant, from the pitch-black storm clouds above, a brilliant, searing bolt of lightning would descend.

Boom!

With each strike, another demon fell, smoldering, collapsing to the ground—unable to take another step forward.

At the same time, the battle in the mountain forest below raged just as fiercely—perhaps even more so.

The young girl atop the tiger rode wildly, commanding the wolves and beastly demons. Wolves threw themselves forward without hesitation, knocking down great monks in waves.

Tigers growled, their voices carrying the might of mountain lords, as they collided head-on with formidable adversaries.

For those monstrous monk cultivators with deeper cultivation—those who managed to break through the wolf pack, to survive the tigers' assaults—they were met with stone giants, towering over a zhang tall, crashing into them with force enough to splinter branches and churn up mud.

Then came the massive black bears, wild boars, and green bulls, each an unstoppable force.

A single swipe from the black bear’s paw was enough to smash an “emissary“ to death.

The wild boar and green bull needed only to lower their heads and charge—and immediately, figures were sent flying, launched above the tree line before plummeting back to the earth.

It was a battle of raw strength—a clash of sheer brute force.

Even those monsters who resorted to sorcery, slipping through the layers of protection, could not evade the sharp-eyed girl on the tiger’s back.

If they made it past the beasts, all it took was for her to circle back—a single burst of true fire, and they were left half-charred, barely clinging to life.

And at the very back of the battlefield, a Daoist figure walked forward, staff in hand.

Compared to the fierce and frantic scenes ahead, the Daoist at this moment appeared especially calm and composed.

Leading a jujube-red horse and leaning on a staff, the Daoist approached steadily through the rain, his footsteps never once faltering. Yet the countless monsters scattered throughout the mountains, along with their so-called “emissaries” and “arhats,” all seemed entirely unaware of his presence.

The demons inside the hall stared blankly in astonishment.

“...”

The Daoist stepped forward, splashing up a spray of water, but suddenly paused, raising his head to gaze toward the sky.

Within the dense smoke from the incense burner in the hall, a vision appeared, depicting the scene from the viewpoint of numerous monks, slightly elevated and from a distance.

At this moment, as the Daoist raised his head, it felt as though their eyes met—his gaze carrying indescribable tranquility. Even though they knew he was still two li away, separated by curtains of rain and the incense burner itself, they couldn't shake the feeling that he'd truly seen them.

“Splash...” a crisp sound echoed out.

It resembled the splash of the Daoist stepping in water. But the incense burner itself transmitted no sound, only visuals.

Everyone turned toward the sound, astonished to discover that a crack had appeared on the incense burner.

“Crack...”

The crack quickly widened.

Bright golden light burst forth from the spreading fissure. Yet, as the cracks spread across the entire incense burner, the golden brilliance suddenly dissipated, replaced by a chorus of clinking sounds.

The incense burner shattered completely, fragments scattering across the table.

“Whoosh...”

A damp breeze drifted in through the window, dispersing the lingering smoke above the burner. Through the last remnants of the vision, the monks saw that the Daoist had already reached the base of the mountain leading to the temple.

“What should we do?”

“This Daoist is too powerful!”

“As expected of someone from Great Yan!”

“What are we going to do now?”

The hall instantly filled with nervous murmurs.

Then, from above, a voice boomed, “Why panic?” The voice resonated like thunder, echoing powerfully throughout the hall.

Immediately, the monks’ hearts grew calm again. Each returned to their seats, their faces composed and serene, momentarily resembling true enlightened monks, or even celestial Buddhas from the heavens.

“Bring forth the sacred treasures! We will confront him together!”

“Yes...”

The monks replied in unison, rising and dispersing swiftly.

Moments later...

The thunder, collisions, roars, and cries outside drew steadily closer, moving upward from the foot of the mountain. Mixed with the howling wind and heavy rain, the noise pushed through the multiple courtyards, approaching steadily.

After a short while, the chaos quieted down again.

Inside the main hall, the monks sat upright, eyes closed, chanting sutras solemnly, creating an atmosphere of sanctity and solemnity.

Outside, wind and rain blurred the world, lightning flashed, and footsteps—some heavy, others crisp—approached. A stone giant, over a zhang tall, strode toward the main hall. Giant bears, boars, and oxen, each as large as small hills, stepped over the courtyard walls. Packs of demonic tigers and wolves assembled at the entrance, vigorously shaking rainwater from their fur.

Finally, a Daoist walked forth, leaning on his staff. Behind him, horse hooves splashed through puddles on the stone pathway.