Chapter 116: Forced Execution

At these words, the statue suddenly struck out with its palm, and the blinding light forced Zhou Bai to squint. His body reacted instinctively; he pushed off the ground with his legs, leaping up just in time to narrowly dodge the attack. Even so, the gale force generated by the strike left bloody lacerations across his body.

But while an open spear is easy to dodge, a hidden arrow is hard to guard against. The ball of light hovering overhead released a beam of Buddhist radiance that pinned Zhou Bai to the spot. Zhou Bai cursed internally, thinking this bald donkey was truly a cunning old fox. Despite having strength far superior to his own, the monk still resorted to such underhanded tactics.

He crashed onto the ground, half of his body sinking into the soil. The Buddhist light pressed down on him like a massive boulder, stifling the yin and demonic energy within him and rendering him immobile. Zhou Bai felt like Sun Wukong sealed beneath the Five Elements Mountain. The tangible weight of the Buddhist light pressing down on him was like a river compared to the mere cup of water that had been cast upon Priest Hou.

Yet, he was not entirely without hope. The Buddhist divine ability, the Great Treasure Glazed Medicine, pulsed faintly within him, yearning to devour this Buddhist light, though Zhou Bai held it back. Once he regained his freedom, he could attempt to use the Yin Jade to escape into the Ghost Realm. He waited for an opportunity, daring not to act rashly, for a single misstep would cost him his life.

The statue spoke: "Worthy of being born with Buddha bones. My Buddhist radiance is enough to suppress even a true soul, yet it struggles somewhat against you. Do you know what the most interesting part is?" It continued, speaking to itself: "My Buddhist light is subtly resisting the process of refining you. How truly fascinating. Can the legendary 'born with Buddha bones' truly possess such power? Incredible..."

Hearing that the Buddhist light was resisting him, Zhou Bai seized the chance. He focused his mind on a single point, and sure enough, the light enveloping him loosened slightly. The statue, oblivious to Zhou Bai’s change, continued reciting what sounded to him like twisted Buddhist scriptures. Through subtle, calm probing, Zhou Bai found a tiny, almost imperceptible flaw in the radiance—a fleeting moment that he seized firmly.

He summoned the Ghost Tree, which transformed into a streak of spiritual light, slipped through the gap, and burrowed deep into the ground. The statue seemed to sense something. Staring at Zhou Bai, it said coldly, "It seems even an ant seeks to live. I know not what method you used, but something has vanished." Seeing Zhou Bai remained silent, the statue was not annoyed and merely intensified the light: "No matter. You cannot escape my palm. Within an hour, you shall be refined into a Buddhist treasure."

Under Zhou Bai’s control, the Ghost Tree tunneled until it reached the towering tree that Bai Wanming had become, using its roots to transmit Zhou Bai’s consciousness inside.

After waiting for a moment, fragmented consciousness finally drifted back. Zhou Bai let out a sigh of relief. When the ball of light had first unleashed its power, he had noticed that besides himself and Priest Hou, Bai Wanming had not been fully controlled either. Desperate, he had let the Ghost Tree investigate, and to his surprise, he had made a discovery.

Because Bai Wanming’s true form had lost control, his consciousness had collapsed, but after a long period of dormancy, it showed signs of coalescing. The Ghost Tree used its yin energy to help him sort through the chaotic demonic energy in his body. Simultaneously, Zhou Bai used his "Gourd Belly" ability to relay information to Priest Hou. Together, they meticulously planned their final window of opportunity.

Time ticked by. Zhou Bai gritted his teeth as the Buddhist light’s erosion reached its limit; what began as a slow boil had now become an invasive force drilling into his very bone marrow. The Great Treasure Glazed Medicine issued constant warnings, itching to consume the foreign Buddhist light; if Zhou Bai stopped suppressing it, it would likely swallow the entire force in one gulp.

Just as he was about to lose his grip, Bai Wanming suddenly moved, and a human face formed upon the tree trunk. The towering tree’s thick roots tore themselves from the earth, churning the soil as it transformed into a ten-meter-tall treant, striding toward the statue.

"Mere demons dare to provoke my Buddha..."

The statue’s words were cut short. Its expression shifted violently, and it turned to roar at Zhou Bai: "How dare you!"

"Damn you, I’ve put up with you long enough!" Zhou Bai spat. The stamen of the Great Treasure Glazed Medicine stirred, and like a whale swallowing the sea, it inhaled all the Buddhist light surrounding him. Regaining his mobility, he rolled ungainly across the ground, dodging a sword-like strike of Buddhist light from above.

It was clear the statue was truly enraged; the light was no longer fluid, but gathered into a dense, solid form. The Great Treasure Glazed Medicine had devoured at least twenty years of the statue’s cultivation, meaning its fourth incarnation was destined to be incomplete—its Great Dao was ruined.

Zhou Bai did not rush to counterattack. He returned the Butcher’s Blade to his back and stowed his tailbone back into his storage pouch. He crouched low, his left hand resting on the scabbard of his Tang sword, his right hand gripping the hilt. The entire blade began to ossify, its patterns resembling tortoise shells, distinct and segmented, with lightning flickering through the cracks.

Bai Wanming’s massive wooden fist slammed into the statue. Though it only caused the statue to stagger, a flaw had appeared.

The Ghost Tree beneath the ground seized the moment; countless roots erupted, binding the statue’s body. At that instant, the circulation of the Buddhist light stalled. Priest Hou, enduring agonizing pain, also reacted according to their plan.

In the nearby magistrate’s courtyard, a hand thrust up from a mound of dirt; then, a coffin lid flew off, and a zombie crawled out. Because it was slow, Bai Wanming’s palm extended vines to snare the zombie, then swung it with great force toward the statue. Under Priest Hou’s control, the zombie latched onto the statue, its body beginning to swell uncontrollably—a sign of excessive yin energy.

A thunderous boom shook the air. The zombie exploded, turning into a bloody pulp that coated the statue. The blood of a ghost is inherently filthy; the statue, caught off guard, was struck, and its connection to the Buddhist light was severed.

A sharp, cracking sound rang out.

Zhou Bai moved. He drew his Tang sword in one swift motion, let it go, and it transformed into a bolt of lightning, streaking toward the statue.

*A light thunder passes as the silk-like rain falls; the clear light floats over the tiles, green and uneven.*

The lightning pierced through the statue’s body and continued its flight without pause. Zhou Bai’s figure vanished from where he stood, reappearing a hundred meters away, where he caught the Tang sword once more. As he slid the blade back into its scabbard, the statue’s head fell to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, the strike was finished.

Yet, Zhou Bai and the others could not relax. The ball of light overhead continued to radiate its power, and the refining of Hangdu City persisted. High above the town, a golden phantom hundreds of meters tall appeared, glaring down with the fury of a true Buddha.