Chapter 642 A Dialogue Between Good and Evil

September 30.

Autumn's End, Southern Wilderness, Night's Cool.

On the wasteland thirty kilometers away from the Mausoleum of the Swords, the crowd that was like a tide stood there quietly. Their bodies were as motionless as sculptures, and their gazes were as cold as ice as ghosts and fierce wolves.

They had stood here for an unknown amount of time, as if they had only stood there for a moment, as if they had stood there for ten thousand years.

At the center of the group of black armored soldiers was a tent thirty feet away. Outside the tent stood two figures. One was nine feet tall, and his muscles were like bronze. The other was frail and withered like firewood, as if he could be blown down by a gust of wind.

In the white tent, there was a monk sitting cross-legged. His entire body was wrapped in a black robe, and there was a dense white rosary hanging around his neck. It was made from the third finger bone of the ring finger of a stranger's right hand. Counting the number of rosary beads carefully, it was exactly one hundred and eight.

His appearance was handsome, like a Buddha walking out of a painting, but his eyebrows were filled with a dense murderous aura. The combination of the two made his appearance somewhat bizarre and strange. At this moment, his forehead was covered in sweat, and his mouth was chanting words, making him feel like he was in the Demon Fallen Realm.

Suddenly, a dark wind blew by.

The two figures in the tent seemed to have sensed something, and their eyebrows turned cold. However, the dark wind suddenly stopped in front of them, and then they condensed into a petite figure. However, it seemed that the figure did not have any substance. It was merely a phantom formed by some secret technique. Although it could not see its appearance clearly, its purple eyes were dazzling in the dark night.

When they saw the purple-eyed girl's figure clearly, the coldness between her brows immediately dissipated, turning into fear and respect. They quickly knelt down towards the purple-eyed girl and said, "Greetings, Your Majesty."

"You two Yama have worked hard. Where is King Ksitigarbha?" The young girl asked, her tone cold and unhuman.

Hearing this, the two of them stood up and looked at each other, their expressions unwell.

The purple-eyed girl saw through their thoughts at a glance. She nodded slightly and said, "I know. I'll go in and take a look at him."

The two of them did not dare to stop her. They hurriedly pulled open the curtain of the tent for the young girl and allowed her to walk in.

The man in the tent was still trapped in a dream, his brows knitted tightly and his face pale. The purple-eyed girl slowly walked up to him. She looked at the man with a complicated light in her purple pupils.

After thinking for a while, she reached out her hand and gently placed it on the man's sleeve.

…

The world is grey.

Dark gray, deathly gray.

Perhaps it was precisely because of this grey that the roar that resounded in his ears became so ear-piercing at this moment.

"Die! Only if you die can we live!"

"Your life alone in exchange for the lives of 108 of us is worth it!"

On the desolate mountain top, a group of ragged armored warriors looked at the beautiful but miserable woman on the mountain top with mad expressions.

The woman had apparently never experienced such a thing before. She looked at them in disbelief, her eyebrows filled with fear.

"Princess, there's nothing we can do. We also have wives and children. We …" The leading soldier said with a mad expression, "We've already run away for too long. Da Chu is dead. We can't go anywhere."

As the warriors spoke, they slowly walked towards the mountain where the woman was. Perhaps they were really too tired. This did not seem like a rough mountain path, but they had to climb it with both hands and feet. They were like extremely hungry jackals with no way out.

The woman at the top of the mountain was deathly pale. Of course, she was afraid of the impending death, but she was even more puzzled by the ferocity of these soldiers.

It was clearly after the fall of the capital that she took in these defeated generals and led them to hide all the way. But why did they still want to kill her at this time?

It wasn't that she didn't have a cultivation base, but she was exhausted from fighting to protect these defeated generals.

She was somewhat unwilling, especially when the soldiers walked up to her and wanted to take off her head. This unwillingness became even more intense. She struggled to escape, but was pulled to the ground because she was too weak. Her clothes were torn, revealing her snow-white body.

The gazes of the soldiers changed at that moment, becoming somewhat crazy and greedy.

"The princess brought us a lot. Since the duke is going to die today, we should let the princess die happily. What do you think?" The leading soldier suddenly put down the saber in his hand and untied his shabby armor.

As a result, the crowd swarmed forward, drowning the women like wolves that ate fat sheep.

The man's ferocious roar and the woman's painful wailing echoed throughout the valley, endlessly for a long time…

…

The handsome monk and the purple-eyed girl woke up from their dreams at the same time.

The monk opened his eyes and looked at the young girl. His calm gaze seemed to contain stars that had been annihilated.

"He's about to wake up." After a few breaths of silence, the monk suddenly said.

"Then what will happen to you?" The purple-eyed girl asked.

The monk remained silent for a long time before saying, "Perhaps he will die, or perhaps he will not."

This answer did not seem to really answer the girl's question, but the purple-eyed girl seemed to understand the meaning behind this and frowned slightly.

"Is that dream why you did all this?" She asked.

The monk stood up and looked at the girl, but did not answer this question. He took a step and was about to walk out of the tent.

"There's not much time left. I have to finish this for you before then. You don't have to worry about this anymore. Do what you have to do."

The purple-eyed girl's eyebrows lit up when she heard this. She turned her head to look at the curtain that was lifted by the night breeze. Following the gap, she could vaguely see the distant Sword Mausoleum through the dense night sky. "I promised him that I wouldn't attack the Sword Mausoleum," she said sadly.

"People have to make choices." The monk said softly.

"But must this be the right choice?" The girl asked again.

"At least it won't be worse." The monk replied.

At that time, the purple-eyed girl seemed to have sensed the monk's determination. She knew that it was useless, so she could only nod her head again. Then, her body slowly dissipated and disappeared from her original spot.

Seeing this, the monk's expression slowed down slightly. He was about to take another step out of the tent.

But at this moment, a golden light flashed in front of him, and a monk dressed in a golden robe, who was exactly the same as him, suddenly appeared in front of him.

The monk gave him a Buddhist salute with a calm expression, and his tone was as clear as spring water in a mountain stream.

"Amitabha."

When the black-clothed monk saw the golden-clothed monk appear, he was slightly stunned. Then, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "It really is said that Cao Cao has arrived."

But in the blink of an eye, the black-clothed monk's tone changed, and a murderous aura surged between his eyebrows. "I thought you were already weak, how could you still have the strength to come out?" As he spoke, he looked up and down at the golden-robed monk's swaying body and said, "Do you still think you can stop me with your current strength?"

"You and I are one. How can I stop you?" Facing his provocation, the golden-robed monk replied calmly as if he didn't feel anything.

The black-clothed monk raised his eyebrows and asked, "Then what do you want to do?"

"Benefactor will not be able to turn back after taking this step. The heavens have a good life. I would like to ask Benefactor to think twice." The golden-robed monk said.

The black-clothed monk sneered, "Don't you find it ridiculous? It was you who gave birth to me, and your evil inspired my evil. You can't suppress this evil thought by yourself, yet you want to openly make me turn around?"

The golden-robed monk was still not annoyed. He said in a deep voice, "I am watching over you."

"Spare me?" The black-clothed monk seemed to have heard the funniest joke in the world. He raised his head and laughed several times. He reached out and picked up the Buddha bead made of the fingerbones of strangers at his neck. He smiled darkly and said, "Alright, then you come and kill me!"

At that moment, evil ghosts with ferocious expressions suddenly appeared behind the black-clothed monk. They bit each other, roared at each other, and clashed with each other. Mournful roars filled the entire tent!

"Come on, come and punish us!" Tens of thousands of ghosts roared at the monk. Their voices gathered together, neither male nor female, but extremely strange.

The Buddhist light around the golden-robed monk gradually dimmed under the ghostly aura that filled the entire tent. Even his body became bright and dark, as if it would dissipate in the next moment.

The black-clothed monk looked at his body and mocked, "Li Dongjun, how can you survive if you can't even cross your own?"

At that time, the golden-clothed monk seemed to be unable to refute the black-clothed monk's words, and he fell silent for a moment.

After a long time, he said, "This is not what she wants."

The black-clothed monk's eyes immediately surged with a dense murderous aura. The thousands of ghosts behind him also roared at this moment. They said together, "What is the result that she wants? She is already dead! She died because of you, you have no right to mention her!"

The golden-robed monk's expression remained the same under his fury. He only sighed and said, "You are the reason I planted you, and you are also the fruit of me."

"Your sins are also my sins. When the fruit of your karma arrives, I will carry it on my shoulders."

After the golden-clothed monk finished speaking, it seemed that he could no longer withstand the boundless ghost energy in the tent, and his body gradually dissipated into nothingness.

When the black-clothed monk saw this, he also restrained the ghost energy around him, but the nameless anger between his eyebrows grew more and more intense.

He walked out of the tent. Outside the tent, the two men, one strong and one thin, hurriedly knelt down. At that time, the tens of thousands of soldiers who had been standing like statues for a long time also knelt down. They shouted loudly, "Greetings to the Hall Master."

The black-clothed monk's gaze swept across the black tide one by one. Finally, he looked at the distant Sword Mausoleum. His brows sank as he spoke loudly.

"At the end of September, at the end of autumn."

"The Sword Mausoleum will be destroyed, the lotus flower will wither!"

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