kingnovel Chapter 786: Encounter in the Human Circle and Realize the Opportunity to Become a God
Chapter 786: Encounter in the Human Circle and Realize the Opportunity to Become a God
In the courtyard of Feng Ji's house, cherry petals were swirling and falling onto the bluestone slabs.
On both sides of the dining table, the man wearing a bronze mask and the young man holding a naginata had been facing each other for half an incense stick.
Wang Mian's eyes looked through the gap in the mask.
He glanced at the naginata with lightning patterns on the boy's waist - a faint green light seeped out from the cracks on the scabbard, like a living thing breathing.
Yuuri Takishiro stared at the Taotie pattern on the bronze mask, and the pattern was actually moving slightly.
There seems to be some kind of ancient spiritual charm flowing.
"Abai, get the chopsticks." A clear female voice came from the corridor.
A girl in crimson furisode came over, holding a celadon bowl, a sweet osmanthus flower pendant swaying gently in her hair. "Guest, please start eating."
Yuuri Takishiro withdrew his gaze, and a ball of faint blue light suddenly condensed at his fingertips.
Before anyone could see clearly, two pairs of gilded purple dragon chopsticks had already landed next to Wang Mian's hands with a clang.
Dragon patterns wander across the chopsticks, with tiny star rays seeping out from between the scales - how can these be ordinary chopsticks?
It is clearly a magical weapon nurtured with high-level spiritual materials.
Wang Mian's eyebrows were slightly raised under the mask.
He reached out to pick up the chopsticks. When his fingertips touched the dragon pattern, the chopsticks suddenly made a slight sound and tried to drill into his palm.
“Good spiritual stuff.”
He chuckled softly, and a trace of the unique aura of the God Slayer gathered at his fingertips. The dragon pattern immediately calmed down.
"Your spatial manifestation is even more skillful than Mishimasha's secret technique."
The tips of Yuuri Takishiro's ears are slightly red.
He originally wanted to show off his skills to shock this mysterious man, but he didn't expect that the other party would suppress the magic weapon with ease.
Just as he was about to speak, he heard the creaking of wooden boards outside the courtyard gate.
When Amemiya Haruki walked in, carrying an old wooden box on his back, the morning dew was still on his shoulders.
He nodded to Yurina first, then turned to Yuri Takishiro, his voice filled with anxiety: "The barrier of the ruins loosened last night."
"I dug out half a blade hilt from the broken rock. The pattern on it matches the description of the Huojin Sword in ancient books—"
"Huojin Sword?" Wang Mian suddenly spoke.
Only then did Amamiya Haruki notice the stranger at the table.
He was stunned for a moment, his eyes swept over the bronze mask,
It fell on the long sword wrapped in black cloth at Wang Mian's waist. The curvature of the blade was completely different from that of the Takamahara ancient sword.
It looks very much like the shape of the Demon-Slaying Sword of the Demon-Suppressing Division.
"I am Haruki Amemiya, an outer gate steward of the Takama-ga-hara Onmyoji."
He put down the wooden box and stroked the nine-star pattern on it with his fingertips.
"I heard that a distinguished guest has arrived at the Fengji family who can withstand Takibai's three sword strikes, so I came to see him."
Wang Mian didn't take off his mask, but raised his hand and clenched it: "Wang Mian, a casual cultivator without any sect or school."
Amamiya Haruki's gaze shifted between the two of them, and he suddenly smiled: "Brother, would you like to go somewhere with me after dinner?"
He patted the wooden box, and a slight metallic trembling sound came from the box.
"There's an old friend who definitely wants to meet the person who can make Takibai do something real."
Wang Mian tapped his fingers twice on the table.
Behind the bronze mask, he remembered what Lai Fu said last night: "There are more terrifying things behind the gate of Shenting".
Thinking of the red moon photo in Lin Qiye's phone - the incident of Takama-ga-hara,
It seemed that these people were being strung together into a network by some thread that he had not yet seen clearly.
"Abai, Haruki, dinner is ready!"
Yurina brought the last dish of Sakura Tai Soup to the table. The cherry blossoms floating in the soup were gently swaying in the steam.
"Today we are welcoming our guests, shall we all have a drink?"
Her hand holding the sake cup was suspended in mid-air.
Wang Mian has stood up.
He placed the gilded chopsticks neatly on the edge of the bowl, moving so gently as if afraid of startling something.
"Sorry." His voice was muffled by the mask.
"I suddenly remembered some old things and need to go for a walk in the yard."
Yurina's wine cup trembled slightly, and the celadon cup made a small sound when it hit the table.
Yuuri Takishiro gripped the hilt of his naginata tightly, his knuckles turning white - this was the first time he saw a guest leave the table in the middle of a welcoming banquet.
Amamiya Haruki stared at the king's back.
His eyes fell on the other person's hand hanging at his side: that hand was unconsciously stroking the scabbard at his waist, as if confirming something.
"Brother Wang!"
Just as Wang Mian reached the gate of the courtyard, he heard Amemiya Haruki's voice calling him from behind.
He paused and turned around, the bronze mask gleaming coldly in the wind.
Amamiya Haruki had already caught up to him five steps away, still holding the wooden box in his arms.
The morning dew dripped down the edge of the box onto the bluestone slabs, spreading out into light gray circles.
"If you have something on your mind, you can tell me." Amamiya Haruki's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of startling the birds flying off the eaves.
"Back when I was searching for the Huojin Sword, I also drank alone under the moon for three nights...Some obstacles can be overcome with a helping hand."
Wang Mian looked at him. His Adam's apple moved beneath the mask.
The cherry tree in the corner of the yard suddenly dropped a shower of petals.
A petal floated onto Amamiya Haruki's shoulder, but he was completely unaware.
He just looked at the pair of eyes behind the bronze mask - there were familiar things surging in them: confusion, unwillingness, and a deep-seated desire for a higher place.
"Tomorrow at dawn, at the old teahouse on the top of the west mountain." After Wang Mian said this, he turned around and blended into the flower mist.
The hem of his clothes swept across the stone lantern at the gate of the courtyard, and the wick "crackled" and sparked.
His shadow was stretched out very long, like an unsheathed sword.
Haruki Amamiya watched the figure disappear into the alley. When he lowered his head, he found that the wooden box in his arms was getting hot.
He opened the lid of the box, and half of the mud-covered knife handle lay quietly.
The lines on the hilt suddenly lit up—it was a very fine crack.
The shape was exactly the same as the place where Wang Mian had just stood.
As Amemiya Haruki chased out of the alley, his wooden clogs made a crackling sound as they rolled over the wet bluestone slabs.
The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and Wang Mian's figure had become a blurred blue-gray silhouette, but it stopped the moment he called out "Brother Wang".
Cherry blossoms fell on the wooden box on Amemiya's shoulder. The half blade of the sword in the box was still hot.
It was as if some power had awakened the dormant memory—just now in the courtyard,
When Wang Mian stood next to the stone lantern, the crack on the sword's handle perfectly overlapped with his shadow. This was definitely not a coincidence.
"I was looking for the fragments of the sword of the Harutsu in the dry well of Izumo Taisha Shrine,"
Yu Gong took a breath and hugged the wooden box tighter, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the nine-star pattern on the box.
"There was a thousand-year-old ice at the bottom of the well. I stayed in it for seven days and seven nights."
"At that time, all I could think of was, 'If I can't find it, I'll die here.' Until the seventh night, the ice suddenly cracked, and moonlight leaked in, shining on the knife handle..."
He looked up at the bronze mask on the king's face,
"Later I realized it wasn't the knife that was waiting for me, it was me who was waiting for myself—waiting for myself to break free from the obsession of 'having to find it.'"
Wang Mian's fingers were still resting on the scabbard at his waist.
The blade beneath the black cloth felt slightly hot, a resonance unique to the God Slayer.
Behind the mask, he recalled what happened in the Demon Suppression Division's basement three days ago.
The photo of the red moon that Lin Qiye showed him - a blood moon in the sky, with patterns that did not belong to the human world surging in the clouds.
He recalled Lai Fu patting him on the shoulder last night when he was half drunk: "Old man, I have lived for two hundred years, and I have never seen a disaster overcome by 'regret'."
"Look at that hilt."
Yu Gong suddenly opened the lid of the box, and morning dew dripped down the edge of the box onto the knife handle. The moment the mud was washed away, a faint blue light seeped out from the cracks.
"It just followed you for half a step." He lightly traced the crack with his fingertips.
"An ancient scroll from Takama-ga-hara says that the Fujin Sword must have three tests to recognize its master: seeing blood, seeing the heart, and seeing the life."
"It saw its end while you were standing in the yard."
Wang Mian's Adam's apple moved.
The gaze that leaked out from the gap in the mask finally showed some warmth.
"There's a fire in your eyes," Yu Gong closed the lid of the box and lowered his voice, as if he didn't want to disturb the morning mist.
"I've seen too many masters in the Onmyoji Bureau. Some burn for fame and fortune, some burn for hatred—but your fire..."
He smiled. "It's like it's burning through the sky."
The wind blew the cherry blossoms between the two of them.
Wang Mian looked at the morning dew on Yu Gong's hair and suddenly remembered what Shen Changqing said when he first met him: "Your eyes don't look alive."
At that time, he had just crawled out of a sea of corpses and blood, still holding his brother who was still warm in his arms.
Later, he killed monsters and beheaded evil cultivators, but he never learned how to engrave the word "alive" into his bones.
“Become a god.”
When the two words came out from under the mask, even Wang Mian himself was stunned.
He remembered Lin Qiye saying that behind the gate of the Divine Court was an ocean of laws;
I remembered Wu Hen mentioned that a truly strong person can plant his own roots in the laws.
He had been on the path of a god-slayer for ten years, killing three false gods.
But he never thought that maybe what he wanted was not to kill God, but to become a being higher than God.
“The Law of Time.”
Wang Mian's fingers unconsciously grasped the scabbard, and the blade under the black cloth made a clear sound.
“If I could turn back time…”
Amemiya's pupils contracted slightly.
He had seen too many people indulge in the fantasy of "starting over again", but when the man in front of him said this, there was no reluctance in his voice.
There was only a calm heat - like a piece of fine iron that had been hammered repeatedly, finally finding the direction to be tempered.
“Laws are not stolen, they are cultivated.”
Yu Gong took out a cherry blossom-shaped talisman and gently pressed it on the king's palm.
"Tomorrow at 11:00 AM, I'll take you to the old teahouse on the top of the west mountain to meet someone."
When the talisman was heated, white smoke rose up, revealing a line of small words: An old person in the Divine Court, who knows the laws and matters.
Wang Mian clenched the talisman tightly and could feel a very faint breath of thunder wrapped in the paper texture - it was a nourishing technique for high-level talismans, from the inner sect of the Yin-Yang Bureau.
He looked at Amemiya's back as he turned around. In the morning mist, the wooden box on his shoulder was still slightly warm, like a beating heart.
The stone lantern at the entrance of the alley suddenly burst into sparks.
Wang Mian looked down at the talisman on his palm. The small words in the smoke were slowly disappearing.
When the last word "事" faded away, he suddenly remembered the note on the red moon photo in Lin Qiye's phone: "The blood moon appears, and the laws are disrupted."
The night wind lifted his clothes.
The king looked at the gradually brightening sky in the east, beneath his bronze mask,
The corners of his mouth finally raised in a very faint arc - it turned out that what was more tempting than "killing the gods" was to become the one who could rewrite "it must be so".
But he didn't know that when he planted the seed of "Law of Time" in his heart,
In a broken tower far away in the ruins of the Divine Court, seven bronze lamps went out at the same time.
A line of bloody words emerged from the lamp oil:
"The one who kills the gods must plan for the time being, and the laws cannot be left behind."