Chapter 927: The Hell Beneath the Buddhist Temple
Ye Fan broke out in a cold sweat. Amid the collapsed ruins, another figure had appeared. In the darkness, only a silhouette could be seen—imposing and towering—with a pair of eyes that blazed like two green lanterns!
In the silent standoff, Ye Fan's heart trembled. This person was undoubtedly powerful; how else could he have crept so close without detection?
It was utterly bizarre. This place was the Ancient Yinghuo Star, long since a dead zone. Why would such a mysterious being exist here?
"Are you the Crocodile Ancestor?"
Ye Fan's voice carried neither joy nor sorrow. Having experienced so much, even if a Quasi-Emperor appeared before him, he wouldn't panic.
The eyes like green lanterns dimmed, and the figure vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed. That spot was now empty.
A chill ran down Ye Fan's spine. This person was too fast—so fast that he hadn't even noticed how he disappeared, as if he had evaporated from the mortal world.
He whirled around to look behind him and immediately felt a cold draft on his back. In the gloom, a blurry, imposing silhouette stood fixedly staring at him—the same person as before.
Likewise, before a moment had passed, the mysterious demonic shadow vanished again, devoid of any life fluctuation, reappearing in another direction.
How could he be this fast? Ye Fan was truly shocked. If this person struck, how could he possibly defend himself? It was terrifying!
Was it the Crocodile Ancestor or not? He couldn't tell. He couldn't see his true form, couldn't make out his features, and couldn't even sense his aura.
What kind of thing was this? If it were the Crocodile Ancestor, he would have crushed Ye Fan with a single finger long ago. Why hadn't he attacked?
Ye Fan activated the Stride Art, turning into a beam of light that shot out, leaving the Great Thunderclap Monastery ruins. He stopped several li away, listening to the sounds of heaven and earth.
Everything was deathly still. There was no storm now. The entire Ancient Yinghuo Star was silent, save for the sound of his own heartbeat.
The stars above swayed, casting faint, dim light. In the gloom, the distant ruins of the Great Thunderclap Monastery lay motionless like a lurking ferocious beast.
"What's going on? Why didn't that demonic shadow follow?"
Ye Fan was astonished. At that spot, the imposing humanoid figure had darted left and right, making his hair stand on end. Why hadn't it pursued him?
"Something's off!" Ye Fan circled outside the Great Thunderclap Monastery ruins, observing them. Nothing unusual happened, leaving him puzzled.
"Could that thing have been born from the ancient monastery ruins?"
Thinking of this possibility, he calmed down considerably. He stepped forward, slowly approaching the long-decayed ruins.
Sure enough, as soon as he neared, at that same spot, a towering figure appeared silently again, constantly shifting positions like a ghost king.
Moreover, when Ye Fan tried moving to the other end of the ruins, an even more terrifying scene unfolded. An ancient great demon swallowed heaven and earth, flickering in and out of visibility, exuding a shocking killing aura—completely different from the previous demonic shadow.
Seeing this, Ye Fan felt no fear but instead relaxed completely. Having spent so much time with people like Duan De and Black Emperor in the Big Dipper Star Domain, he couldn't help but learn about many bizarre phenomena. Through constant exposure, he had nearly become a half-authority on the subject.
This was a Temple-Suppressing Demon God!
All of this undoubtedly originated from the foundation. Over the years, the Crocodile Ancestor had broken free, collapsing the underground base and causing the countermeasures laid down by Shakyamuni to manifest in the world.
There existed a method of underground sealing, both mystical and cruel, using the blood of powerful demon saints to cast the foundation. The deceased could manifest various Dharma forms from their lifetimes.
Beneath the Great Thunderclap Monastery lay demonic soil, with eighteen layers of hell. Its construction must have involved immense effort and thorough preparation; otherwise, the entire ancient temple would likely have been overturned by the demons below.
Ye Fan carefully cleared away the rubble and broken walls of the Great Thunderclap Monastery, revealing a grim foundation.
"This is supposed to be a Buddhist paradise, yet underground it looks like this. To suppress demons, Shakyamuni also resorted to ruthless measures."
The foundation was clearly extraordinary. Every stone was inscribed with mysterious runes, blackish-red in color, soaked in demon blood, sending chills down one's spine.
At the center of the encircling foundation stones was a massive black hole. After clearing away the debris, wisps of demonic aura rose from below, incredibly terrifying.
"So this is the eighteen layers of hell. This is where the Crocodile Ancestor escaped from."
Beneath the Buddhist Great Thunderclap Monastery lay eighteen layers of hell. If this were to spread to the mortal world, even Buddhists would refuse to believe it.
Back then, the Crocodile Ancestor had broken free, and the Divine Thought had also rushed out. Ye Fan wondered if other, more powerful extraterrestrial deities had also escaped.
"This place isn't far from Earth. If these things break free..."
Ye Fan shuddered violently. In this current era of declining cultivation, what beings on Earth could oppose them? Thinking this, he grew uneasy and decided to go down and investigate.
Ye Fan entered the black hole alone. It resembled the gaping maw of a primordial ferocious beast, savage and terrifying.
An icy, bone-piercing killing intent surged toward him, like a dull blade slicing through flesh, causing sharp pain. The underground space was vast, hundreds of zhang deep, with similar length and width.
Though pitch black, under his Heavenly Eye, everything was laid bare. This was the first layer of hell!
The walls were carved with golden-bodied arhats, celestial bodhisattvas, and ancient Buddhas, all in demon-subduing poses, glaring with fury, radiating divine majesty. This was meant to refine demons!
Ye Fan marveled. The killing intent emitted by these carvings, accumulated over hundreds or thousands of years, could refine a great demon king. It possessed profound and mysterious divine powers.
This was where the Crocodile Ancestor had been suppressed. For him to survive two thousand years of imprisonment was no small miracle.
The vast, empty first layer of hell was entirely carved from rock, as if hollowed out from a massive demon stone.
In the four corners stood thick stone pillars, supporting the Great Thunderclap Monastery above and seemingly suppressing this place.
These four pillars were carved with various demon gods, along with blood grooves filled with dried black blood. These were demon-subduing stakes used to refine demon saints.
The ground exuded a murderous aura. Scattered about were enormous scales, each over a person's length, gleaming with chilling killing light. These undoubtedly belonged to the Crocodile Ancestor, shed as the first layer of hell refined him.
Ye Fan picked one up and found it extremely hard. Though its demonic aura and essence had long been refined away, it still retained a trace of indestructible properties.
"As expected of a demon saint. Even these completely discarded scales are this terrifying!" Ye Fan gritted his teeth, filled with hatred for the Crocodile Ancestor, wanting to rip out his sinews and pull his bones.
In one corner, a black hole led deeper underground. That was the entrance to the second layer of hell, where the vengeful spirit of the Great Accomplishment Saint Body had been suppressed.
Ye Fan leaped down. He wanted to see how many layers of hell had been breached. Underground was pitch black and even more oppressive, with yin energy assailing his body, making his skin feel like needles pricking it.
Suddenly, his expression froze, and his entire body stiffened. In this layer of hell, a ghost lamp burned with a greenish light, its cold aura rushing toward him.
Moreover, in front of that ghost lamp sat a stone coffin. A shriveled little old man crouched on top of it, grinning at him eerily.
Ye Fan's hair stood on end. He stumbled backward. The second layer of hell actually had a living being!
This place had long been unsealed. Why was there still such a ghost lamp and such a yin-energy-filled old ghost? His body ached even more, as if tens of thousands of yin needles were piercing him.
"Boom!"
Ye Fan immediately summoned his cauldron. Nine-colored flames poured down like a waterfall, enveloping his entire body. He held the Bodhi Seed in his palm.
This was supreme yang divine fire, capable of burning all filth and evil spirits. Ye Fan used it to protect himself but didn't act rashly, staring fixedly ahead.
"Chi!"
The shriveled little old man turned into a streak of green light, vanishing into the human-faced ghost lamp. The lamp's flame immediately flared brighter.
"This is a Coffin-Suppressing Lamp!" Ye Fan gasped. He recalled Duan De's words and recognized what it was.
This human-faced ghost lamp would be a priceless treasure for Duan De, a divine object for suppressing tombs, used to weigh down coffins and suppress vengeful spirits!
In this place, there were no other vengeful spirits, but the Divine Thought of the Great Accomplishment Saint Body had once existed—a king among ghosts. Who could compare? And this ghost lamp was naturally the pinnacle of its kind!
How such a ghost lamp was forged was unknown. Not just the lamp body, but even the oil it burned was hard to find. It was said to be refined from the fat of saints' bodies, and the more saints, the better. The lamp's flame would burn eternally without extinguishing.
Looking at the ghost lamp and its eerie green flame, Ye Fan shuddered. That was the fat of saints burning! And since it was used to suppress the vengeful spirit of a Great Accomplishment Saint Body, the oil must have been even rarer and more terrifying.
This item wasn't a magical artifact. It couldn't be used offensively in battle. It was only for suppressing tombs, with immense use in yin burials.
Ye Fan stared at the human-faced ghost lamp. The wick was its protruding tongue, indescribably sinister and terrifying. This lamp was ancient, with the marks of time leaving indelible traces of age.
Just by feeling, he could tell this lamp had existed for at least tens of thousands of years. It certainly wasn't forged by Shakyamuni. He must have found it elsewhere and used it to suppress the vengeful spirit of the Great Accomplishment Saint Body.
This ghost lamp was likely a miraculous object. If Duan De were here, he'd be drooling and pouncing on it. But Ye Fan found it repulsive and didn't want to collect it.
Aside from dealing with yin burials and ancient tombs, this lamp had little other use.
Ye Fan felt disgusted looking at the human oil burning in the wick. Though ancient great saints were sacred, the things they left behind were truly unsettling.
"Though not very clean, it does have its value. Once inside an ancient tomb, this lamp becomes a divine treasure with bizarre and mysterious power."
He wanted to collect it but worried about the shriveled little old man causing trouble. Still, this indirectly proved the lamp's terror, having birthed a deity.
Pinching his nose, Ye Fan tossed the lamp into the nine-colored flames within his cauldron to suppress it, then stored it away.
The stone coffin was empty. Nothing was left inside, as expected, since the Divine Thought had already escaped. Only a chilling aura lingered.
The hell had reached its end. It wasn't eighteen layers, only two. This puzzled Ye Fan, completely different from what he had imagined.
He searched repeatedly, thoroughly scouring the area, but ultimately had to give up. Back at the Great Thunderclap Monastery ruins, he examined again and finally discovered the secret.
A stone tablet was buried beside the foundation stones. The inscriptions weren't in Sanskrit or bronze script but in the divine script common to the Ten Thousand Primeval Clans!
Though Ye Fan couldn't recognize all of it, he could understand most of the meaning.
The yin-yang hell had only two layers, mutually restraining each other, using yin-yang power to seal each other. This was the gist of the first line, with more below.
Ye Fan instantly understood. The eighteen layers of hell were separated, paired in twos, distributed across nine ancient stars, suppressing a total of eighteen terrifying ancient beings, each more powerful than the last!
"Good thing it's like this. If this place's seal broke and all eighteen ancient deities rushed out at once, even Shakyamuni's return might not be enough."
Suddenly, the sound of waves crashed, deafening. At first, Ye Fan thought it was an illusion. Listening more closely, he couldn't believe his ears. It was real!
And then, on the horizon, he saw a vast black ocean surging toward him!
He had read reports before. In the distant past, the Ancient Yinghuo Star might have had great rivers, even large lakes and oceans. But times had changed. How could it still exist?
"Boom!"
Terrifying waves crashed against the shore, sending rocks flying through the air.
In that black ocean, several ghost ships sailed, flickering with eerie green flames, indescribably strange.