Chapter 479: The Threat
A Reluctant Stand-off
After transforming into the Golden-Armored Giant God, Zhang Haoyan exuded an incredibly powerful aura, prompting Number Eleven to murmur internally:
"How about it, Six? Can we beat him?"
"Difficult."
That single word, "Difficult," conveyed their helplessness. Number Six was the most proficient fighter among the Thirteen Apostles, so if he said it was difficult, they were in real trouble.
The biggest headache was that they couldn't win. They couldn't actually blow up White Cloud Temple, could they?
Number Eleven felt helpless and could only force a laugh.
"Old gentleman, please don't be so quick to resort to violence. My purpose here is to negotiate, not to make enemies. Let's discuss any issues we have first."
Zhang Haoyan's expression was cold, and he slowly drew his golden mace.
Seeing this, Number Eleven's face darkened.
"If your Excellency won't listen to reason, then don't blame me."
As he spoke, explosions sounded from outside, shaking the cave. Birds chirped loudly, and gasps of surprise echoed from the distance.
"The entire Qingyun Mountain is covered by my birds, thousands of them. Every single bird is a bomb. If you dare to attack, I will make the millennium-old White Cloud Temple disappear from this world. Your Excellency should consider how many of your younger disciples will survive."
The golden light suddenly intensified. Zhang Haoyan's eyes were wide with rage, his killing intent almost solidifying.
This young brat actually dared to use White Cloud Temple to threaten him.
Number Eleven's expression remained unchanged, and he continued:
"I said we didn't come here to make enemies. If your Excellency insists on using brute force to suppress us, then we will only end up destroying each other."
Zhang Haoyan stared deeply at him, retracted the golden light, and reverted to his original appearance.
Number Eleven let out a quiet breath and slowly said,
"May I ask for your venerable name?"
"Zhang Haoyan, Daoist True Master."
"Ah, True Master Zhang. A pleasure to meet you."
Number Eleven nodded slightly, his gaze turning to the stone monument. "May I ask you to release my friend?"
The old Daoist snorted. With a wave of his sleeve, the stone monument slowly rose. The five chains dragged Linda, who was confined in the cave, out. Number Eleven quickly checked her condition, and after confirming she was only unconscious and not in mortal danger, he smiled.
"Since the True Master is willing to release her, I must reciprocate."
"The flock of birds has ascended and will no longer disturb the temple's cultivation."
Zhang Haoyan said coldly, "Who are you?"
"Luke Shaw."
"I'm not asking for the name of this body; I'm asking for you. Who are you?"
Number Eleven waved his hand. "My name is irrelevant. The True Master only needs to know that I am Luke Shaw."
Zhang Haoyan laughed heartily, his gaze deep, seeming to penetrate the young man.
"You and the eleven souls within your body share a similar aura: a burning greenness that carries the chill of a soul-eater, exactly like the soul in the metal, but far less powerful than the latter."
He stroked his beard, a look of profound understanding on his face.
"If I'm not mistaken, the soul inside the metal is the true Luke Shaw. The rest of you are merely his split souls."
"One primary soul and twelve split souls. What a remarkable technique. Young man, your Original Body is truly extraordinary."
Number Eleven remained silent. The apostles inside him were frantically communicating:
"This old man is too amazing! He saw through our origin instantly."
"I have a very bad feeling about this."
"Me too."
"No wonder Six said it was difficult. The old man is completely fearless."
"Boss, when will the Original Body wake up?"
"Hard to say."
Number One said gravely, "The Original Body is undergoing some kind of transformation. It will be difficult for him to wake up in a short period of time."
"Let me take over."
Number Eight suddenly stepped forward, taking control of Luke's body.
"Since the True Master has figured it out, I don't need to hide it. Yes, we are all split souls, and our purpose here is to rescue the Original Body. This mission must be completed no matter what. If the True Master insists on stopping us, we can only become mortal enemies."
"I don't want to see this happen, and I believe the True Master doesn't wish to see a thousand years of heritage vanish either."
"You are threatening me."
"It's not a threat, merely the truth,"
Zhang Haoyan said frostily. "I have lived for over a hundred years, seen all kinds of people. It is too presumptuous of you to think you can threaten me with White Cloud Temple!"
Number Eight sighed slightly. "There's one thing I don't understand. Why is the True Master detaining the Original Body? We have no animosity, do we?"
Zhang Haoyan burst into laughter, his expression grim and filled with chilling anger.
"Your Original Body caused the souls of several hundred villagers across two villages to be destroyed, and he also killed my disciple—Zhang Ruosu, the Sect Leader of White Cloud Temple. You call this 'no animosity'?"
Number Eight's heart sank. He knew nothing about this matter.
The old Daoist didn't seem like the type to lie, which meant the incident was likely true.
This was a major problem.
A grudge for killing a disciple is not easily settled, let alone the hundreds of villagers who died...
After a brief silence, Number Eight slowly said,
"I will investigate the matter of the villagers thoroughly. If it is truly as you say, I will offer compensation."
Zhang Haoyan hissed, "How can hundreds of lives be measured in money?"
"True Master, please don't jump to conclusions before understanding the facts. The things we offer far exceed your imagination."
Number Eight spoke seriously, but Zhang Haoyan dismissively waved his sleeve.
"As for your disciple's matter, there may be a misunderstanding."
Without waiting for the old man to speak, Number Eight continued, "The Original Body has been in a state of deep sleep. True Master Zhang Ruosu, as the Sect Leader of White Cloud Temple, must have been highly cultivated. I am curious: how could the Original Body, while asleep, have killed Sect Leader Zhang? After careful thought, there is only one explanation: Sect Leader Zhang proactively initiated the attack, and the Original Body acted in self-defense, leading to the tragedy through a tragic error."
"Of course, this is all speculation. As the person involved, the True Master certainly knows better than I do. However, based on the information transmitted from the Original Body, he has encountered two attacks in the past few days."
At this point, Number Eight raised his head and stared straight at the old man.
"I wonder who attacked him? Perhaps the True Master can tell me, to prevent further misunderstandings."
Zhang Haoyan coldly snorted. "What a sharp-tongued brat."
Number Eight silently shook his head. "I am simply speaking the truth."
"Sect Leader Zhang's death is regrettable, but the Original Body had no intention of killing. If the True Master insists on blaming us for the murder of your disciple, we have nothing more to say."
"There is an old Chinese saying: 'More friends, more paths; more enemies, more walls.' We are willing to resolve this feud, and I urge the True Master to consider this carefully."
Number Eight's words were clear, targeted the core issue, provided a way out, and offered a path to peace. Zhang Haoyan felt secretly annoyed but could not refute him. Analyzing the origin of the conflict, it was indeed his foolish disciple who initiated the confrontation, leading to the ensuing tragedy. Furthermore, when Zhao Congxin attacked later, the soul in the metal did not strike a lethal blow.
Yet, the Sect Leader of White Cloud Temple had died. If he did not seek revenge, how could he account for it to the younger generation of disciples?
A trace of killing intent appeared in Zhang Haoyan's eyes. Just then, the chirping of the birds rang in his ears. His heart chilled, and he was forced to suppress the urge to attack.
The image of the exploding birds was vivid in his mind. If he pushed the opponent too far, the young man might truly cause mutual destruction.
The thousand-year foundation of White Cloud Temple could not be ruined by his hand.
The wretched brat is really tricky!
The old Daoist felt cornered, as if punching cotton—it was a severe headache.
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