Nightfall

Chapter 952: Shoulder By Shoulder

Translator: Larbre Studio Editor: Larbre Studio

A spider web fell on the head of the old monk from the eaves of the White Tower. Although his head was almost covered, the old monk closed his eyes, and looked quite peaceful. His silver eyebrows were slightly floating in the wind, and touched the spider’s thread in front of him. It was hard to distinguish his eyebrows from the spider web without a good look.

The old monk closed his eyes. He made people believe that his eyesight was within this world and was looking at the seemingly ordinary chessboard right in front of him.

The old monk was the Chief Monk of Scripture of Xuankong Temple.

After Ning Que and Sangsang entered it, he had never left the chessboard. A lot of time passed. It went from spring leaves to summer flowers to autumn fruits and finally to winter snow. The bell rang in mornings and the drum sounded in evenings. Through numerous days and nights, he was still silent, even though winds blew and rain fell.

Jun Mo came to the cliff plateau, and exchanged looks with his First Brother. There was no time to chat. He didn’t talk to the old monk either. Instead, he walked directly to the old monk, lifted the iron sword and began to strike.

The wide and straight iron sword heavily hit the chessboard, with an ear-splitting bang. Smoke and dust were appeared on the cliff plateau. A while later after the smoke and dust went down, the chessboard still lied intact in front of the old monk’s knees.

There was not a single scratch.

With Jun Mo’s strength, such a cut would have cut through a stone mountain. However, he unexpectedly didn’t damage it at all.

Even though the chessboard could bear the power of the iron sword, the cliff plateau couldn’t. A few ruptures were found on the cliff plateau. It was too dark to detect the depth, which could be estimated to be thousands of meters into the mountain. These ruptures extended along the side of the cliff. The precipice below the pear tree finally cracked.

A year ago, water splashed the chessboard, and then became several giant waterfalls. Although it had neither root nor source, the water continued to flow all the way down the cliff. It wasn’t until now that they were cut off by Jun Mo’s sword.

One swing could cut off waterfalls, but couldn’t even shake the chessboard.

Jun Mo looked at the Chief Monk behind the chessboard, and then lifted the iron sword.

The Chief Monk eyes were still closed, as if he didn’t notice the very existence of the iron sword. However, his hands were falling on the chessboard. Or was it his trick to make the chessboard iron-like like before?

Jun Mo wasn’t sure, but he didn’t need to be. Then he lifted the iron sword and cut downward. Only this time, didn’t he cut the chessboard, but the Chief Monk.

Wind came ahead of the cutting sword. It easily tore the seemingly messy spider web, and fell on the Chief Monk’s skull amid the solemn ordained marks.

The iron sword was thick and heavy, while the head of the Chief Monk of Scripture was very round. Thus, it looked like Jun Mo was knocking the Chief Monk with a stick in an attempt to awake him.

Another extremely loud bang rang out. On the cliff plateau, cold wind blew aimlessly, the pear tree swaggered with rustles, and a lot of stones fell towards the ruptures, far away from filling them up.

The Chief Monk closed his eyes, and remained calm. Only his silver eyebrows looked a bit messy. It was as if the kasaya was hanging on a cloth drying line in the open air at the point where it was hard to guess which way the sleeves and lower hems would go.

The iron sword didn’t leave any traces on his head.

The Chief Monk reached Buddhahood by cultivating his body, so both his body and soul were as strong as iron. For him, Ning Que’s Thirteen Primordial Arrows back then were as soft as straws, and Jun Mo’s iron sword was more like a wooden stick.

The thing was that he suddenly shortened.

It was because his body was sinking into the ground of the cliff plateau. He still sat on his knees. Only a few inches of his body sunk due to the iron sword.

Jun Mo didn’t say a word, and only lifted the iron sword in an attempt to attack again.

At the same time, wind on the cliff became a little chaotic, as the First Brother came alongside him.

This was called shoulder-by-shoulder.

Jun Mo withdrew his iron sword because the First Brother had his wooden stick in his hands.

The First Brother held the wooden stick, walked towards the Chief Monk, and knocked down.

When the wooden stick hit the Chief Monk’s head, a more horrific sound blasted than Jun Mo’s previous slashes.

Boom! Countless ruptures cracked on the White Tower behind the Chief Monk, looking as if it was the spider web before. The copper bell, hanging on the eave building, rang disorderly, and then blasted into ashes.

The Chief Monk’s eyes remained closed, with his silver eyebrows becoming increasingly messy. He looked a little bit pale, while his body was stuck in for another a quarter of a meter.

Although sunken in, the Chief Monk was still not really harmed. The chessboard under his palm sunk deeper into the cliff plateau, and became even more firm.

The First Brother sighed. “It still cannot be crashed.”

Jun Mo lifted his iron sword and said, “We will keep on attacking.”

At that moment, another refreshing breeze blew up with a slight aroma of wine.

The Drunkard came to the field and looked at the First Brother silently.

Jun Mo looked back at him, and said, “Do you want to stand in our way?”

The Drunkard said, “Yes, but I wouldn’t risk my life.”

Mr. First and Mr. Second of the Academy were there at the same time. Even he needed to put his life on stake.

The First Brother felt a little puzzled, and asked, “Aren’t you worried we will snatch the chessboard?”

The Drunkard said, “As long as the iron body of the Chief Monk remains untouched, even I, together with the Butcher, wouldn’t be able to penetrate his iron body. Thus, neither would you two. In that case, what should I worry about?”

Jun Mo didn’t say another word. He turned back, lifted the iron sword, and smashed towards the Chief Monk’s head once again.

Boom! Another huge blare!

The ruptures in the White Tower were deeper, so were that in the cliff plateau. On the stone wall of the cliff cave, multiple ruptures cracked. The whole world was about to tumble.

But the Chief Monk remained the same.

“Brother, it’s your turn.” Jun Mo receded to give the position to the First Brother.

While looking at the chessboard that had already completely sunken into the cliff plateau, the First Brother thought it over and said, “No more attacking.”

The Drunkard slightly smiled.

Jun Mo frowned a little bit.

The First Brother looked at him and said with a smile, “You try to leverage.”

Jun Mo suddenly recalled the old days in the Back Hill of the Academy many years ago when he and his Brother were both recently accepted and very young. One day, they took an order from the Headmaster to mend the mountain pass in the Back Hill. A rock was taken down from the cliff and blocked the pass.

Jun Mo, in his childhood, was more proud, confident and stubborn than the present him. He carried a mountain-cutting hatchet, and struck the giant rock for three whole days and nights nonstop.

At last, his hands bled and his body was too exhausted to carry the hatchet. He only managed to damage a small part of the rock.

While he was striking, his Brother did nothing but watched. He knew his Brother was a little weak, but at least out of the helplessness, he had some anger.

Even if he was getting angrier, Jun Mo wouldn’t blame or hurl insults at his Brother. That was why he felt very wronged and bursted into tears without knowing why.

His Brother was looking at the giant rock for a long time. When he found little Jun Mo crying, he stared at him for a long time. Then, he left without saying anything.

Jun Mo stopped crying after his Brother left. Where was the audience? He cleaned his face with cool stream water. Once he was recovered, he took the hatchet once again, and was ready to keep hacking.

At this moment, his Brother walked back with dozens of tough moso bamboos in his arms. His forehead was covered with sweat, because it was quite hard for him to drag all these bamboos down.

The Brother stuck the moso bamboos into the gaps between the stone and the precipice. After careful calculations, he called Jun Mo over and said, “You try to leverage.”

Jun Mo had always been obedient. Although back then he didn’t know what his Brother was up to, or what the moso bamboos were for, he still followed his lead to leverage the moso bamboos.

The giant rock was hit by the mountain-cutting hatchet for three whole days and nights, with little signs of chipping down. Then when he leveraged it, Jun Mo found that the rock quickly loosened. Later, it rolled down the mountain pass and became part of scenery in the mountain by the stream.

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That event happened many years ago but Jun Mo was still as obedient to his Brother. His Brother let him leverage, and so he did. That was why he walked toward the Chief Monk with his sword.

The iron sword wasn’t between the Chief Monk’s body and the cliff plateau. It was planted into the brim of the chessboard.

The Drunkard looked surprised.

Jun Mo waved the iron sword and started to leverage.

The vitality of nature of the cliff plateau was deeply disturbed. Wind was roaring, so the stones on the surface of the White Tower were falling down with rustles, which continuously hit the head of the Chief Monk, with countless smoke and dusts stirring up.

The Chief Monk was still as firm as a rock, and the chessboard was still in the precipice.

The iron sword was withholding unimaginable weights that were as heavy as a real mountain.

Jun Mo wanted to pry up this mount. A clear howl bursted out of his tightened lips and it was as bright as a phoenix’s singing and as powerful as a landfall.

The Drunkard’s flagon that was by his waist slightly floated.

The First Brother stood before him with his back towards Jun Mo.

The iron sword in his hands bent a little and then straightened. His sword was always straight. Even a mountain can’t bend it.

Unimaginable power was about to be unleashed.

That chessboard was finally pried on, and ascended towards the ground.

The Chief Monk’s silver eyebrows were floating. His hands abruptly turned over and pressed on the chessboard.

A huge mountain was once again falling on the chessboard.

Jun Mo stopped the howling, and shouted like thunder, “Up!”

The precipice collapsed. The green tree was shaking, and the green leaves were falling like raindrops. The chessboard resurfaced!

The Chief Monk’s hands were on the chessboard. He remained at the position of sitting on his knees.

The iron sword was straight and strong. The chessboard and the Chief Monk together weighed as much as the huge mountain Prajna. Even though the chessboard resurfaced, Jun Mo only managed to pry open gap so small that even the smallest ants wouldn’t be able to climb in it.

But this was enough.

The gap meant that the chessboard was separated from the mountain. However, it was still not separated from the Chief Monk’s hand.

Moving forward, it was passed onto the First Brother. His hands, no one knew when, had fallen upon the shoulder of the Chief Monk.

In the precipice, the turbulence of Qi was dispersed. A buzz rang out, like an inverted bell.

In front of the White Tower, there was only Jun Mo standing and holding his sword. The First Brother, the Chief Monk, and the chessboard were all gone.

Where did they go?

They went to Heaven.

At the bottom deep in the earth, the peak was only a short section above the Wilderness.

The sky was much higher than the peak.

White clouds were floating and blocking the blue sky. Two figures came out of the clouds.

The First Brother loosened his hand.

The Chief Monk was falling through the clouds and towards the ground.

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