Chapter 151: Two Taoists

Where Zhen Yuanzi stood, a profound and heavy aura surged from the Book of Earth, clashing in mutual resistance.

Where the Ancestral Dragon of the Nether River resided, the Karmic Fire Red Lotus seemed poised to scorch space into utter transparency, burning away all blood and sin in the world.

Where Eastern Emperor Taiyi stood, the dharma image of a three-legged Golden Crow soared into the sky, and primordial chaos energy shook from the Pangu Bell, trapping the entire realm within the resonance of the bell's chime.

Or perhaps Fuxi, Nüwa, the Three Pure Ones, Chisongzi, Kunpeng, Dijun...

These supreme Great Luo Golden Immortals, whose mere names echoing across the Primordial World could cause it to tremble, were locked in desperate combat. The auras circulating around them and the roaring echoes of magical treasures never ceased.

Not only were they, the majestic beings bound by the Primordial Heavens and practicing orthodox Primordial Dharmas, trapped in this predicament, but even the twelve Ancestral Witches who had entered were left with looks of utter bewilderment, failing to comprehend the situation.

Some of fiercely volatile temperaments, like Gonggong and Zhurong, invoked their Ancestral Witch divine forms right from the start, transforming into giants and wrestling fiercely in a hearty and unrestrained brawl.

Others wore solemn expressions, their respective authorities clashing against one another, such as Zhujiuyin and Jumang. The aura of their domains flowed around them in rather bizarre ways.

Especially Zhujiuyin, who commanded the authority of time. From the moment the other appeared, even before he could realize it or utter a word, his manifested past self had already perceived the trick behind this mechanism.

There were also those who had not yet started fighting. Shebizhi, representing the Ancestral Witches, simply let her toxic miasma overflow and erode the space, sleeping as motionless as thunder.

Naturally, her manifested counterpart shared the exact same temperament, also lost in deep slumber, while the toxic vapors radiating from both their bodies mutually corroded each other.

Such an aura was so potent that if an ordinary Great Luo Golden Immortal were to step into it, their Dao fruit would likely be tarnished and their entire cultivation destroyed.

Every single one of the three thousand guests of the Palace of Purple Heaven was a supreme Great Luo Golden Immortal.

Beyond that, those capable of entering and listening to the teachings of a Saint were undoubtedly among the very apex of the Primordial World.

With the approach of the Immeasurable Calamity—unlike ordinary calamities—though Great Luo Golden Immortals single-mindedly sought survival and should theoretically be safe, accidents were still inevitable.

Normally, the fall of a Great Luo Golden Immortal was an exceedingly rare event.

Yet over this past epoch, the number of fallen Great Luo Golden Immortals had become almost immeasurable.

Once all these Great Luo beings entered the Palace of Purple Heaven, their numbers had dwindled by a full ten to twenty percent.

As for the remaining great cultivators, they had all been pulled into this very same space, forced into a battle of attrition against themselves.

Understanding an enemy might be relatively easy.

Because you only need to find the enemy's weaknesses, attacking their flaws with your own strengths.

However, trying to comprehend your own shortcomings... is truly a difficult task indeed.

Coupled with their own self-preservation methods, if they encountered someone of a higher realm, they might struggle to resist, but facing oneself... meant fighting until the end of time and heaven.

...

Meanwhile, atop the highest tier of the Palace of Purple Heaven, two figures sat facing each other in silence.

Before these two, a game of Go was unfolding. It was impossible to tell what stage it had reached; visually, the chessboard seemed boundless, and the Go stones were countless.

The crisp sound of pieces dropping onto the board echoed, stirring the soul. Yet, looking at the two figures, neither was seen reaching out to pick up or place a piece, nor were there any stone bowls containing pieces beside them.

If a top-tier Great Luo Golden Immortal were present to gaze upon this chessboard, they would naturally perceive the infinite terror contained within it.

One of these figures was none other than the master of the Palace of Purple Heaven, the Saint Hongjun.

He had long since attained Sagehood, but even the Dao of Sagehood was divided into high and low tiers—regardless of strength or doctrinal principles, it was categorized as arbitrarily as that.

Yet this mattered little to him, for in his eyes, the Dao he pursued was the true, eternal, and singular Dao.

"I must thank you this time, Fellow Daoist. Your mastery of spatial arts has grown considerably stronger compared to before."

Seated serenely on a futon, his expression calm, he placed a Go stone silently onto the board, producing a crisp, melodic resonance of the Dao.

At this moment, the delicate threads of the horsetail whisk in his hand fluttered as if connecting with something, granting him crystal-clear insight:

"Had I not chosen to employ such a method and thus expended a favor from long ago, I fear it would be difficult ever again to witness such exquisite techniques."

"You jest once more, Fellow Daoist. Your calculations of old encompassed the heavens and the earth, manipulating everything until even the likes of us were drawn into your scheme.

Today, your cultivation harmonizes with the Three Thousand Great Daos of the Primordial Heavens, making you the singular 'One' throughout the ages within this world. How could you possibly think lightly of my meager accomplishments?"

The other Daoist made an effortless move, his expression devoid of any discernible change, though a hint of mild mockery or sarcasm could faintly be detected in his words:

"I rather suspect that your approach, Fellow Daoist, is nothing more than quenching one's thirst with poisoned wine. Even if you can maintain control for countless epochs, variables will eventually arise.

When that time comes and you fail to transcend, I truly wonder whether you will even know if you are still yourself."

Their words carried subtle barbs and hidden meanings, shrouded in obliqueness. If anyone else were present, they would undoubtedly have been utterly baffled.

Yet neither of these two was an ordinary being; amidst their verbal sparring, they remained focused on the game.

And yet, neither of their true thoughts rested upon the chessboard.

"If they fail to realize that they can only rely on their own Dao principles to resist within this realm, I fear they will be trapped by my creation for countless epochs."

Discontent flickered faintly across the Daoist's expression and tone—evidently dissatisfied with being roped into performing such a task—and he let out a cold snort:

"I simply cannot fathom it. The past has nearly become a fixed constant with a strictly limited upper limit of power; they exist in the present, where future karmic ties are infinite—how can they fail to see it?"

"Even if they remain here until the end of time, time itself will not alter by even the slightest fraction for you and me due to their passage within. Why should Fellow Daoist fret so?"

Daoist Hongjun shook his head slightly. Their game accelerated, the sound of falling stones echoing endlessly across the first floor of the Palace of Purple Heaven, radiating infinitely outward:

"Matters whose outcomes can be altered by a single thought require no further discussion.

Would you begrudge me this game of Go as a mere companion?"

"I would!"

The other voice was resolute, crisp, and entirely unhesitating.

...

Just as those two had stated, the situation facing Hongyun and the three thousand guests of the Palace of Purple Heaven at this moment was a battle against versions of themselves whose strength was locked at the level just before the first sermon in the Palace of Purple Heaven.

The only catch was that any treasures acquired during the single epoch following the first sermon could also be wielded by their 'past selves' once invoked.

Whether innate divine powers, exclusive techniques, or one-of-a-kind spiritual treasures of heaven and earth, all were flawlessly replicated here, losing none of their might.

A momentary lapse in judgment, a defeat at the hands of one's own past self, meant an immediate reset of everything, returning them to the very beginning.

The rules here were immutable: defeat your past self to leave!