The Nine Abyss Platform

In the ancient age, the Immortal-Slaying Sword had once blazed with unrivaled glory, its fearsome might shaking heaven and earth. And yet, it had broken free from its seal within hell and flown away—this alone was enough to show how terrible and mysterious this place truly was.

Xiao Chen and Niu Ren were silent for a long time. So many things were beyond the understanding of those at their level. But it was precisely this mystery that drove them to grow stronger, to one day attain that realm and ascend to that state.

Crossing the desolate blood-colored earth, they had been walking through the dark underworld for fifteen days. According to King Chu Jiang, they should be nearing the Nine Abyss Platform.

The entire way, they had traveled with the speed of wind and lightning. Xiao Chen wished to arrive as soon as possible, to learn how Keke was faring now.

By the sixteenth day, they had covered over a hundred thousand li. Though they had not yet seen the so-called Nine Abyss Platform, they knew they were drawing infinitely close.

And at that moment, faint and indistinct sounds of Buddhist chanting reached their ears. It seemed a high monk was reciting sutras in the northwest. A wave of sacred will rippled gently through the underworld.

In this dark and gloomy netherworld, the power of sacred attributes was exceptionally distinct. Xiao Chen and Niu Ren sensed it at once.

"Let's go take a look." Niu Ren was not one to stay still by nature. He urged the Black Dragon King forward, and together with Xiao Chen, they charged northwestward.

After traveling several dozen li, a brilliant golden light flowed toward them. Ahead, a patch of brightness blazed as if daylight had descended into hell. The sounds of chanting and prayer originated from there.

A cluster of ancient temples radiated a splendor like the morning glow. Row upon row of old shrines seemed gilded with a layer of golden light. An unbroken tide of Buddhist power rippled outward from that place.

"Ancient temples in hell!" The fat youth mused. "Could it be that King Ksitigarbha is seated there?"

Xiao Chen and the others did not draw too close. They stood on a brown stone mountain more than twenty li away, gazing into the distance.

"Buddha be merciful!"

A sudden voice rang out on the stone mountain—behind them. They had sensed nothing of it at all.

Clang!

The holy sword hidden in the Black Dragon King's spine instantly left its sheath, and sacred light enveloped them.

Xiao Chen and Niu Ren turned around. Behind them, before a sheer cliff, stood a gaunt old monk. His snow-white brows hung from the corners of his eyes down to his cheeks. His skin was sallow and dry, his body as withered as a bamboo pole. He stood there silently with his hands pressed together, reciting the Buddha's name.

His gray cassock looked as if it had not been washed in centuries. It was grimy and worn, stained by the marks of time. A tattered robe hung over him like a fishing net, having long lost its original shape.

To suddenly see an old monk in this gloomy underworld would startle anyone. When Xiao Chen and Niu Ren first saw him, their immediate thought was: was he a man or a ghost?

"Are you a true monk, or a ghost monk?" Niu Ren asked cautiously.

"This poor monk has been dead for over two hundred years," the old monk replied. "In life, I was a wandering ascetic. Currently, I dwell in the temple of King Ksitigarbha."

"A wandering ascetic? You wandered all the way to King Ksitigarbha's temple?" Niu Ren asked in surprise.

"King Ksitigarbha has not revealed his true form for thousands of years. Countless ferocious souls and great demons have overrun the hells, and many ancient temples have been seized by these fiends. This poor monk was forced to wander, finally taking refuge in an old temple built by King Ksitigarbha himself in this region." The old monk pointed toward the bright and sacred area ahead. "That is the last Buddhist sanctuary in hell. All other ancient temples have become dens of demons. Even if King Ksitigarbha were to reappear, it might be difficult to reclaim them—for the problem is no longer merely about savage ghosts. Several peerless demons from the mortal world have brought their physical bodies into hell. Would the benefactors be willing to return to the temple with me?"

"No, no, no. We appreciate the kindness, but we won't go." Niu Ren quickly waved his hand. Going to the lair of a ghost monk was something he would never agree to, even if it killed him.

The old monk smiled. "You need not be afraid. I am not a malicious ghost, only a monk's soul devoted to Buddhism. And the Temple of Ksitigarbha is not entirely filled with ghost monks. There are also two living old monks of the Ksitigarbha lineage there."

"No, no. We have urgent matters. We truly do not wish to disturb you." Niu Ren refused outright, no matter what.

"Very well. This poor monk will not force you. But I have a request. Could I trouble the three benefactors for a few drops of true yang blood? The ferocious spirits in hell have grown too violent of late, and the ancient temple here can barely hold them back."

"Well… very well." Niu Ren exchanged a glance with Xiao Chen and reluctantly agreed. This old ghost monk seemed unfathomably powerful. If he had wished to harm them, he would not have gone through such trouble.

In truth, what the old monk wanted was primarily Dragon King blood. He collected several drops in a jade bottle and recited the Buddha's name in thanks.

Finally, he earnestly invited them again, saying, "In life, this poor monk cultivated the Great Prophecy Art. Though I cannot completely foretell the future, I have some faint premonitions. I sense that within the Temple of Ksitigarbha, a great treasure is about to emerge—one that is connected to the benefactors. That is why I have repeatedly invited you. Consider it repayment for the kindness of the true yang blood."

Even a sacred temple was now occupied by ghost monks. Little Fatty Niu Ren truly did not want to go. But after a moment's thought, Xiao Chen decided to make the trip.

As soon as they drew near the radiant, sacred, and peaceful temple grounds, Xiao Chen knew the old monk had not lied. The Burial Shroud, Suiren's Fire-Drill, and the two stone legs all began to tremble. This forced him to regard the old monk with newfound respect. In life, that monk must have possessed extraordinary Buddhist power—for the Prophecy Art was the most profound and mysterious of divine abilities.

Xiao Chen's heart was far from calm. He had already unearthed two mysterious stone legs. Could it be that this time he was about to find another?

Though it was a temple in the underworld, the chanting was grand and the Buddhist resonance vast. Though most of the inhabitants were ghost monks, even after turning into yin spirits, they retained a full measure of Buddhist power. In a sense, they were no longer nether souls but a kind of pure Buddhist-force spirit body.

Many of the old monks saw them enter the temple but spoke little. Each continued to sit cross-legged in the ancient halls, chanting sutras loudly. Though they were ghost monks, they possessed more of the Buddha's essence than many so-called 'enlightened monks' in the mortal world—which was, in itself, an irony.

A faint tremor passed through the air. Suiren's Fire-Drill left Xiao Chen's body and flew silently toward the most dilapidated of the old halls.

Rumble…

Soon, the sound of collapse echoed. Several ancient halls crumbled. The Fire-Drill flew back, and Xiao Chen caught it in his hand. To his astonishment, he found that it now held a stone arm slightly longer than half a finger.

Many ghost monks came at the sound. Two living old monks flew over as well.

"Who destroyed the temple built by King Ksitigarbha himself?" The two old monks had bodies of skin and bone—the only two living Arhats of the Ksitigarbha lineage.

The ghost monk who had led them forward sent out faint waves of spiritual will and explained the matter.

The two old monks' eyes shot sharp beams of light as they fixed their gazes on the stone arm in Xiao Chen's hand. Their expressions were complex.

One of them trembled as he spoke: "There is a legend that the compassionate and all-wise King Ksitigarbha once experienced a period of confusion. He was heard muttering to himself, 'The Stone Man split into nine, and three parts fell into hell.' Apart from that, no one knows its origin. As for this arm, it is said that in ancient times, King Ksitigarbha worshipped it with utmost reverence and sealed it as a holy relic in the foundation of this temple. It is also said that Lord Tongtian, who dared to challenge the Ancestral God Youchao, once battled Laozi here. During that fierce combat, the Immortal-Slaying Sword fell into hell and landed precisely where the Stone Man's remains lay. Lord Tongtian sighed in the end, unable to pull the sword free."

Hearing this news, Xiao Chen's heart could not remain calm. What was the origin of this seemingly ordinary Stone Man? Suddenly, a wild notion struck him, and he could not help asking, "Could the Stone Man be the body of the Ancestral God Suiren?"

Though the Stone Man was small, the divine abilities of an Ancestral God were unimaginable. If his body had turned to stone after death, it was not impossible. Moreover, it was Suiren's Fire-Drill—a fellow stone artifact—that had retrieved it, and the Burial Shroud had also responded.

The ghost monk who had led them there was truly extraordinary in life. He had cultivated the Great Prophecy Art, a divine ability so profound that one would normally be destined to become a Buddha. No one knew why he had died and fallen into hell. He shook his head and said, "Absolutely not. When the Stone Man was split into nine, Ancestral God Suiren had not yet met with disaster. However, a certain fragmentary ancient scripture may provide a clue. When I was in the mortal world, I once obtained a damaged ancient text—not a Buddhist scripture. Only its last few pages remained, and some of the records were very vague. The gist was that several Ancestral Gods, including Suiren and Youchao, had divided a shattered Stone Man and several stone artifacts among themselves. It is unclear whether this Stone Man is the same as the one that was split into nine. The long, narrow stone implement in the young benefactor's hand closely resembles one of the stone artifacts mentioned in that ancient text."

Hearing these words, everyone was stunned. The two living old monks of the Ksitigarbha lineage were not only astonished but also pressed their hands together in salute to the ghost monk from the mortal world. They could now see that he was no ordinary being.

Xiao Chen was deeply shaken. He had originally thought that Suiren's Fire-Drill was the sacred relic of Ancestral God Suiren's own enlightenment. He had never imagined that Suiren had merely obtained it by chance. It seemed that this Stone Man was truly no simple matter! It opened up infinite possibilities…

"Buddhism teaches that all things come about through fate. Since it has been obtained by you, it is meant to see the light of day." The two living old monks of the Ksitigarbha lineage did not make things difficult for Xiao Chen and his companions.

Following the ghost monk's guidance, they finally reached the Nine Abyss Platform three days later. From afar, they could already see a massive black shadow like a mountain.

And over those three days, Xiao Chen was astonished to discover that the remains of the Stone Man, which had hidden itself within his vitals, had undergone a startling change. The two lower limbs formed by the stone legs were no longer standing upright. They had assumed a cross-legged sitting posture. Moreover, between the legs and the left arm, a faint strand of light had begun to connect them. That light outlined the other parts of the incomplete body—an ethereal figure whose only solid parts were the legs and the left arm. Everything else was indistinct. The form sat cross-legged, motionless within Xiao Chen's chest and abdomen, as if silently cultivating.

There was not the slightest disharmony. On the contrary, it seemed to have merged seamlessly with Xiao Chen, natural and perfect. Even more unbelievable was that Suiren's Fire-Drill—which even the Golden Divine Halberd and the Dark-Iron Seal could not touch—had shrunk to the size of a fingernail and appeared in the Stone Man's small left palm, palm facing upward, held quietly in place.