Chapter Twenty-Nine: Subduing the Demon Beneath the Lake

The upstart Daoist would not be foolish enough to plunge into the water again and measure himself against a fish in its own element.

He vanished from sight and rose above the cavern, drawing out the eight prepared battle flags. Their names were those of the eight gates. Yes—the Eight Gates Golden Lock Formation. The array matched the eight directions and the eight trigrams, borrowing the force of heaven and earth from all quarters to seal off every path of escape around the cavern. More than that, by shifting the formation and turning the trigrams in alternation, it could drag the carp spirit’s advantage in its own domain down to the very lowest point.

The flags went into the water. The Daoist murmured an incantation, then cast copper coins into the center of the great array to suppress it with their power. With all prepared, he grew even more shameless: sword in one hand, talismans in the other. This was plainly the rhythm of wearing the carp spirit down to death by sheer outside force.

As he slipped into the lake and neared the cavern, he first cleared the way with talismans, caring not in the least for waste, flinging out a whole handful at once. They transformed into dozens of gigantic blue water thunderbolts, streaking straight for the cavern. Thunder rolled first, striking before anything else could. Lightning flared blindingly; the booming never ceased. The lakebed shattered beneath wave after wave of shock. The water churned as if brought to a boil. Even the Water-Manifest Spirit Lord’s cavern was battered beyond recognition, and yet this also exposed a figure lurking beneath the surface.

If not the carp spirit, then who?

It turned out the carp spirit had sensed danger the moment the Daoist drove the battle flags into the water. It had meant to flee, only to discover that the surrounding area had already been sealed by that shameless Taoist outside. The carp spirit knew nothing of formations and dared not move rashly. So it employed a water-merging concealment art, blending itself into the lake as one, waiting to strike by surprise. Had the Daoist not yet reached the cavern and instead immediately hurled a heap of five-element water thunder at it, breaking its concealment, then even with the Daoist’s own sea-choked spiritual sense under water, he might not have found it.

But human plans never outrun Heaven’s. How could the carp spirit have foreseen that it would run into such a wild Daoist who refused to fight by the rules? It could only be blamed on its poor fortune.

"Haha, this poor Daoist knew it—your carp spirit would surely resort to some shameful trick. As expected, I am shrewd beyond measure."

A volley of water thunder had forced the carp spirit’s form into the open, and with his confidence greatly increased, the Daoist became even more smug. Floating in the lake and looking at the rather bedraggled carp spirit, he asked, "Where did you hide my peach-wood dharma sword?"

As he spoke, he produced a golden talisman blazing with spiritual light. Talismans too were graded: gold, silver, purple, blue, and yellow. The talisman he now held was the Heaven-Canopy Summoning Talisman, plainly nothing like the practice scrap from before. Gold was the highest grade, and the talisman itself shimmered with spiritual aura and radiated treasure-like light; its power was naturally incomparable. By displaying it, he made his threat unmistakably clear.

The carp spirit grew uncertain and wary. It privately regretted that it had truly been bewitched by greed, provoking such a figure over a peach-wood sword it could not even wield, and one it had to painstakingly suppress at that. For this it had also fallen out with the old turtle in the Great River, ruining a friendship of several centuries.

"Fellow Daoist," it said, "if I return your sword intact, would that settle matters between us? You go your way to the immortal mountains in search of the Way, while I continue cultivating my arts at the bottom of this lake. Could we not leave each other in peace?"

Its words made plain that it had already lowered its head and admitted defeat.

The Daoist was silent for a long moment after hearing this. Then he let out a long sigh.

"In these times, cultivation is no easy matter. That you have reached such a state is truly rare. We might have set aside distinctions between our kinds, sat together discussing the mysteries, and verified one another’s cultivation. And yet you have actually used living beings as sacrificial offerings, killing countless lives. Do you think that with Heaven watching over all, you still have any path of cultivation left to speak of?"

"Without taking the blood and vitality of the masses to forge a body of power, much less the Great Way, even escaping the mundane and stepping onto the path of cultivation would be impossible. You humans are truly shameless. You can eat pigs, dogs, cattle, sheep, and treat all creatures of the water as a dish to be fried, stir-fried, or deep-fried. Why then can I not eat them?"

The carp spirit’s face was full of anger.

"Uh..." The Daoist was momentarily at a loss for words.

This was a matter of position, not fairness. No one would think it strange for fish and shrimp to be eaten, but if fish and shrimp ate humans, that would indeed be terrifying. Yet how fish and shrimp saw it was plainly outside the scope of human concern.

"Blessed and sublime Heavenly Venerable," the Daoist said. "Heaven’s law has its order; each being has its place, each its return. You have wantonly taken human lives, so this poor Daoist cannot spare you. Surrender at once, and I will spare your life. If you remain obstinate and refuse to awaken, then I will have no choice but to cut down demons and eradicate evil in the name of Heaven’s Way."

His meaning was crystal clear: humans eating fish and shrimp was only natural, ordained by Heaven. But the carp spirit using human blood as sacrifice was a violation of the celestial statutes, giving the Daoist ample justification to exterminate evil and uphold the Way.

Those words enraged the carp spirit beyond measure. It knew that life and death would be decided in this battle. Suddenly it opened its enormous mouth and drew in countless tons of lake water. At once its belly swelled as though it were ten months with child. The Daoist was still wondering at this when he was about to cast another talisman and summon the Heavenly Canopy deity.

But the carp spirit’s eyes had already turned blood red. It transformed all the water in its belly into invisible water-arrows and shot them toward the Daoist. The Daoist no longer had the leisure to use the talisman. His copper coin sword became countless sword-shadows, whirling at high speed around him. A dense patter of ringing strikes rose like rain beating plantain leaves. Only a few stray arrows could pierce his protective qi.

If the carp spirit’s skill ended there, there would have been no problem. But it clearly knew that water-arrows could ambush an unprepared opponent, not a man ready for battle. It suddenly spat something from its mouth: a bead faintly glowing with red light, flying straight at the Daoist.

It seemed the carp spirit had already resolved to fight to the death, even exposing its inner core.

The Daoist did not dare be careless. His whole body’s power surged forth, and one complicated hand seal after another piled up in rapid succession, while obscure incantations poured from his mouth.

"Suppress!"

Though spoken as if slowly, it happened in an instant. Just as the carp spirit’s inner core was about to close in, the Daoist gave a thunderous shout. The word "suppress" flew from his mouth, growing larger as it shot forward, firmly trapping the carp spirit’s inner core so that it could move no more.

The carp spirit was horrified. Its inner core was its life’s essence. It immediately whipped out a whisk and struck at the Daoist, while the Daoist met it with his sword. The Xuan-Guang Temple inherited the orthodoxy of Patriarch Lu, so his swordsmanship was naturally no poor thing. Sword light flashed repeatedly, the copper coin dharma sword surging with power as it darted up and down.

Only then did the carp spirit realize that fighting the Daoist in brute force had been a foolish mistake. Yet its inner core absolutely could not be lost. Clenching its teeth, it revealed its true form—a gigantic carp more than three zhang long. No one knew how many years this fish had lived to grow so enormous; it was truly no small feat.

Soon enough, the Daoist learned just how fierce a carp could be in water.

Rough-skinned and thick-fleshed, it possessed prodigious strength. The Daoist’s copper coin sword relied chiefly on his own magic to wound the enemy. Its material was limited; it was acceptable enough for enhancing spells, but in close combat it truly could not compare to an ordinary sharp sword.

Once the carp spirit revealed its true body, the copper coin sword was for a time unable to do anything about it. The blade could not break through the carp’s defense and depended entirely on magical power to sustain itself. But the scales on the carp’s body were not only hard, they were also slippery. Sword qi and spell power crashing against them could leave at most a few scratches or break off one or two scales.

Seeing this, the Daoist could only summon his dharma sword back.

In sword control, the precious thing is to wound the enemy with the sword’s own keen edge. This was truly not what a dharma sword ought to be doing.

The carp spirit saw that the Daoist’s dharma sword was helpless against its true body, and hurriedly whipped its great tail, surging toward its own inner core.