A gentle breeze swept through the ranks of soldiers, making the torches sway and casting shifting light and shadow across Tripitaka's face.
His kasaya fluttered lightly in the wind.
The sword's tip pressed close to his throat. Tripitaka raised his head high, staring at Many-Eyes the Centipede.
"After this monk falls, not a single person here is to be harmed. Lord Many-Eyes, can you give me a definite promise?"
All the monks fell silent, staring blankly, their minds wiped clean.
Moments ago, they hated Tripitaka from the bottom of their hearts. They wished for his death, to trade one life—his—for the lives of all the monks here.
But when Tripitaka truly stepped forward, it was almost impossible to believe.
Was this a performance, or had this man truly lost his mind?
Jack Rivers gripped Prince Adrian's hand tightly and whispered, "Protect Master Tripitaka. Anyone else can die, but Tripitaka must not. If he dies, there will never be another like him to walk the western road."
Prince Adrian's gaze flickered. He lowered his voice, asking, "If we try to break out with Master Tripitaka, what are our chances?"
Marshal Silver replied in a low voice, "Curtain, Black Fur, and you—three people with Tripitaka. On the surface, maybe sixty percent. But... who knows if Many-Eyes has another trick up his sleeve? If he does, maybe not even twenty percent. That's assuming you leave me and Jack Rivers behind."
"No way!" General Curtain and Prince Adrian almost shouted in unison.
"We have to, even if you say no. Miss the chance, and we might not even have twenty percent."
General Curtain watched the front, gritting his teeth and muttering, "If that's really the case, I'd rather take Marshal Silver and leave Tripitaka behind!"
"I won't abandon my cousin, no matter what," Prince Adrian said in a low voice.
"Since we've accepted this mission, we have to be prepared not to make it back alive." Marshal Silver took a deep breath. "Curtain, you were once part of the Celestial Army—you understand this, don't you? Or is it just the River Navy that has this rule?"
As he spoke, Marshal Silver gave a helpless smile.
General Curtain was left speechless.
After a long moment, Many-Eyes flushed red and shouted, "Do you think you can be resurrected? After you die, I'll scatter your soul—never to be reborn! Do you really dare to kill yourself?"
"Whether I dare or not is my own affair," Tripitaka replied calmly. "All you need to do, Lord Many-Eyes, is give me a definite promise."
"You don't know these people at all, yet you're willing to trade your life for theirs?"
"Wasn't it Lord Many-Eyes who said he wanted to see universal salvation?" Tripitaka sneered. "Just answer me: will you keep your promise or not?"
At that moment, Many-Eyes actually hesitated. His eyes widened slightly as he stared at Tripitaka in astonishment.
"Why?"
Gazing at the novice monk's gradually chilling body, Tripitaka softly replied, "Because—universal salvation."
The sharp blade grazed the skin of his throat, and blood began to drip down its edge, drop by drop.
For an instant, the breeze rippled through like waves, clouds swirling overhead.
Everyone's eyes widened in shock.
Moonlight poured down onto the mortal world, illuminating everything.
Standing quietly in the wind, Tripitaka was like a giant, towering and unyielding as a mountain.
Behind him, all the monks stared wide-eyed at Tripitaka.
"Universal salvation? That's a joke!"
"On the far shore of the Sea of Suffering, there is a Pure Land that belongs to all beings—not just to the Buddha."
"How do you know that?"
"I do not know," Tripitaka answered. "I simply believe."
"Believe?" Many-Eyes snorted coldly. "And what if it doesn't exist?"
"If it doesn't exist, then let this monk drown in the sea. In the future, there will be others like me who will walk the road I have traveled, pressing onward until they find it."
The corner of Many-Eyes' mouth twitched, and his hand unconsciously tightened around the whip at his waist.
Suddenly, he understood: what he faced was not a cultivator seeking immortality, nor a monk seeking transcendence, but the purest kind of martyr—one spoken of only in ancient texts.
Unlike cultivators who seek longevity, and monks who seek liberation, this was the kind deemed most foolish—one thought extinct in the world—a martyr, seeking only the highest Path in his heart. And his Path was universal salvation.
He had cast off his Buddha-body, endured ten mortal reincarnations, all to prove the Way of universal salvation.
"Master Tripitaka!" a monk cried, falling to his knees.
One after another, the monks knelt down, bowing their heads to Tripitaka. It was as if, in the presence of dazzling brilliance, they could not help but close their eyes—whether they wished to or not.
In the dim, reddish firelight, the sound of quiet sobbing could be heard.
"This monk has one last wish—may you all help fulfill it."
"Please, Master—tell us!"
"After I am gone, I hope that a disciple of the Buddhist Order will carry the westward road forward in my stead. If so... even if I die a thousand deaths, I will have no regrets."
After a brief silence, someone cried out, "I am willing!"
Soon, almost all the monks shouted their willingness.
...
In the Netherworld, the Earth-Store King frowned slightly, while Right-Dharma Radiance Tathāgata smiled with quiet satisfaction.
"That day, in the dungeon at Chang'an, he forced my hand just like this—I had no choice but to help him."
"Even so, what of it?" Earth-Store King said coldly. "The monks' suffering is still unresolved. Those caught in the westward journey are still in pain. The Way of universal salvation is not so easily proven."
"If the Way of universal salvation truly exists, what do you think is its first requirement?"
"It should... it should require supreme wisdom, enough to resolve all suffering."
"No." Right-Dharma Radiance Tathāgata sipped his tea and smiled softly. "There are already those in this world with supreme wisdom... To prove the Way, first you need someone like him—a fool who disregards his own life, casts everything aside, and walks this thankless road, doing what no one else dares."
...
Many-Eyes stared in shock at the prostrate monks, momentarily forgetting to further intimidate them.
Turning his head slightly, Tripitaka looked toward Marshal Silver and his group: "Marshal."
Supported by General Curtain, Marshal Silver lifted his head to gaze at Tripitaka.
"I'm afraid, from now on, you'll all have to protect the new scripture seeker. I am not irreplaceable, and this road must be traveled to the end."
Marshal Silver's brow furrowed tightly; for a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
Blood stained the monk's robe red.
No one doubted anymore—this seemingly powerless monk possessed boundless strength.
...
"Some petty souls on Spirit Mountain think they should strike directly at the reincarnation of Golden Cicada and kill him to prevent future trouble." Earth-Store King laughed slowly, shaking his head. "They should really see this for themselves. Whether Tripitaka lives or dies, this journey must be made—it's just a matter of who walks it, and whether the Way is proven in the end."
...
Tripitaka raised his eyes to Many-Eyes and said, "I've finished my last wishes. Now, all I need is one promise from Lord Many-Eyes."
Many-Eyes' brow twitched.
How could this be? He'd meant to expose this 'fraud' in front of the Great Sage, to prove he was right. But now, his relentless pressure had only proven Tripitaka's resolve...
His hand repeatedly rubbed the reins—Many-Eyes was wavering.
Staring at Many-Eyes from afar, Tripitaka called out loudly, "Lord Many-Eyes, is this promise really so difficult?"
A bearded Taoist rode his warhorse up to Many-Eyes. "My lord, could we be wrong? Perhaps Tripitaka's quest is genuine..."
"So what if it is! Whoever stands in the way of the demon clan's cause—kill without mercy!"
With a loud crack, Many-Eyes lashed the bearded Taoist across the face with his whip.
Clutching his face, the bearded Taoist quickly retreated.
Turning back to Tripitaka, Many-Eyes roared, "I've no patience for your madness, monk! Archers, ready—!"
As he raised his hand, countless bowstrings were drawn tight in an instant.
The shield bearers in front raised their shields and stepped back two paces.
"Fire!"
Before Many-Eyes could give the order, Marshal Silver shouted first.
Black Fur and General Curtain charged at Many-Eyes, with White Dragon close behind, darting to Tripitaka's side.
During the sprint, Black Fur's form rapidly expanded, transforming into a giant bear five zhang tall.
General Curtain leapt onto Black Fur's back, his hands glowing with spiritual power. His sleeves tore, revealing taut muscles.
For a moment, the soldiers were dumbstruck.
Seeing the massive Black Fur charging, Many-Eyes' warhorse panicked, rearing and whinnying, struggling to turn and flee. Yet Many-Eyes seemed unconcerned, focused only on controlling his mount.
Just as Black Fur's huge paw swept toward Many-Eyes, a tiger of equal size suddenly appeared and collided head-on with Black Fur.
At the same time, General Curtain leapt above Many-Eyes, diving down with all his strength gathered in his hands.
At that moment, a figure blocked General Curtain and Many-Eyes in midair.
It was a Taoist—one who had been standing behind Many-Eyes.
In the next instant, two horns shot out from the Taoist's head—antlers.
Before General Curtain could react, those wildly growing antlers formed a wall in midair between them, like a coral reef!
This was the only chance—miss it, and there would be no other.
There was no time for General Curtain to think; he could only hurl himself at the antler wall with all his might.
The first layer of antlers shattered under General Curtain's charge.
The second layer of antlers shattered under General Curtain's charge.
The third layer of antlers shattered under General Curtain's charge.
...
At the final layer—the seventh—it trembled and cracked, but did not shatter completely.
A mouthful of blood sprayed from the deer spirit's lips.
Before General Curtain could gather his strength again, through the final wall of antlers, Many-Eyes pointed lightly—a beam of white light pierced General Curtain's shoulder!
Helpless, General Curtain had no choice but to retreat.
On the other side of the battlefield, White Dragon had prepared a speech to persuade Tripitaka after he refused to withdraw.
Unfortunately, he never got the chance to say it.
As he grasped Tripitaka's wrist and took the sword from his hand, the goateed Taoist was already blocking their planned escape route.
"Steady—hold the formation!" a general rode along the slightly loosening ranks, shouting, "These are heavenly soldiers summoned by the Imperial Preceptor! Do not be afraid!"
Many-Eyes, expressionless atop his horse, said, "Leave no one alive."