Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

Lin Daochen felt a chill run down his spine, as if his skin had been peeled away, and he had been seen through inside and out. But the phrase "observe the workings of fate" was like a loosened gate, allowing his tense nerves to relax slightly—at least, the murderous intent temporarily subsided.

Suddenly, the Heavenly Stele roared and burst forth from his dantian, hovering three feet above his head! Its surface blazed with azure light, forcefully resisting the tearing force of the Blood Gate, and pinning the vengeful ghost to the spot, rendering it immobile. Lin Daochen felt a surge of heat in his chest, as if a drowning man had grasped at a piece of driftwood.

The oppressive aura emanating from the white jade skull remained, but the sudden appearance of the Heavenly Stele seemed to cleave open a sliver of hope.

His long-dormant spiritual power suddenly exploded, like a spring tide bursting its banks, surging and pouring into his limbs and bones—his withered arms instantly swelled up, a lustrous blue glow emanated from under his skin, and a vibrant life force rose up, as if plants were sprouting branches and leaves in his flesh and blood.

"The divine map is the guide, the heavenly stele is the shield!" Lin Daochen clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking. He dared not slacken, nor dared to fail this heavenly power, and focused all his attention on the desperate situation before him.

The azure light of the Heavenly Stele acted as a lock, not only sealing off the Blood Gate's suction force but also trapping the vengeful ghost like a prisoner. Taking advantage of this, Lin Daochen absorbed the surging spiritual energy, his withered muscles bulging inch by inch, his aura rising steadily until he instantly reached his peak.

A blue light flowed around him, faintly revealing the refined and ethereal aura of an immortal. His gaze was like a blade, sharp and intimidating; even the fierce ghost shrank back, its fangs trembling, as if its soul had been intimidated by the invisible might of heaven.

With a light tap of his toes, Lin Daochen transformed into a streak of azure light and shot out! His fist was wrapped in emerald flames, and the divine power of the Heavenly Stele resonated and trembled between his finger bones as he struck the vengeful ghost's brow: "You wicked creature, be punished!" His voice was like the clash of metal, awe-inspiring and unshakeable.

Before he could catch his breath, the spiritual energy within his body surged like a raging river. His eyes gleamed red as he forcefully channeled his true essence to surge against his vital points—the fifth level of the Transformation Realm, broken! A burst of blood-red light erupted from the top of his head, piercing the heavens, as if a blood-soaked war god had shattered the void as he descended.

The Ancestor Guang'an chuckled, flicking his sleeves as he slowly approached. In his eyes, Lin Daochen was still a lowly insect crawling in the mud. The Blood Palace's mysteries were far too profound for such a junior to meddle with.

Just as he raised his palm to strike, a ten-zhang-tall white jade skull silently appeared behind him—its entire body was translucent like solidified fat, exuding a chilling aura, as if it had emerged from an ancient tomb under the moon. It stood silently, yet it seemed to have already seen through the intricate connection between Lin Daochen and the Heavenly Stele, and was unwilling to sever it easily.

"Ancestor, this person has been recognized as a master by the Heavenly Stele, and the karma between them is already deep." The voice of the white jade skull was like a cold spring gurgling over stones, deep but leaving no room for doubt.

Guang An Ancestor's cold laugh abruptly stopped, and his hand slowly closed from his sleeve. He narrowed his eyes, his sinister gaze sweeping over Lin Daochen, no longer daring to speak lightly or jokingly, his vigilance etched into every inch of his muscles.

Lin Daochen's spine straightened, sweat rolling down his face, yet he felt the surrounding air solidify like molten iron—his life or death hung in the balance. He suddenly spread his arms wide, golden light bursting from beneath his skin, his veins bulging like coiled dragons, and his physical strength surged once more!

A crimson light blazed above his head, reflecting off his golden pupils. Without further hesitation, he took a deep breath, his dantian burning as if on fire, his blood and qi surging and boiling throughout his body. In an instant, his body was tempered to its limit—his golden skin was like cast iron, overflowing with blazing light, as if molten lava was surging and burning in his veins.

The white jade skull watched silently, its eyes empty and unmoved. In its eyes, this was not enough to disturb its will, which had been dormant for millennia.

But Lin Daochen did not stop. The all-consuming gravity of the Blood Palace Gate tore at his robes, hair, and soul, as if the gaping maw of an abyss was slowly closing. Yet he held his head high and stepped, one step at a time, toward that surging crimson darkness.

Suddenly, the white jade skull sank silently into the depths of the blood lake, leaving no ripples, only a pool of thick, dark red. Lin Daochen stood there stunned, a slight sense of bewilderment in his heart, but he saw the blood waves surging beneath his feet, as if whispers were swirling in his ears—he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his gaze was as firm as a rock, and he continued forward.

Just then, a clear, melodious cry of feathers suddenly rang out from behind. The Heavenly Water Immortal gritted her teeth and activated the Azure Phoenix Divine Feathers, causing thousands of feathers to explode and wrap her in a shimmering cocoon, her body radiating a dazzling holy light. She struggled to stand upright, but the color drained from her brows, her fingertips trembled slightly, and she finally collapsed into Lin Daochen's arms.

"Immortal Tianshui!" Lin Daochen caught her as she slid down, his throat tightening. He could see it clearly—she had withstood the triple blood demons to protect him, her spiritual veins were already overdrawn and broken, and at this moment even her breathing was as light as a kite with a broken string.

A cold flame flared in Lin Daochen's eyes, and the veins on the back of his clenched hands stood out. He absolutely could not allow the sacrifice borne by these thin shoulders to turn into a handful of cold ashes. He swept Tianshui Immortal into his arms, turned around and faced the enemy formation, his fists flying even more fiercely than before, and his footwork even more ruthless.

In the heart of the Blood Palace, the battle has turned into a carnage. Lin Daochen, the Heavenly Water Immortal, the Guang'an Ancestor, and the White Jade Skull, amidst the surging blood lake, piled-up bones, flickering divine diagrams, and the low murmur of the Heavenly Stele, each step into a perilous predicament where life hangs by a thread. The mysteries sealed for millennia are gradually peeling away their rust, revealing the chilling blades beneath.

Lin Daochen lowered his head and gently stroked the cold forehead of the Heavenly Water Immortal, his fingertips brushing against the undried beads of sweat on her eyelashes. He looked up at the Blood Gate, his gaze heavy as if pressing down on an entire mountain—there was no room for retreat in this situation, and this gate had to be broken.

"Blood Gate, open for me!" he spat out the words through gritted teeth, an inextinguishable fire burning in his chest. He no longer relied on external forces, but solely on his own blood energy, he forcefully confronted the crimson gate that had imprisoned him for millennia.

He activated the lingering resonance of the Heavenly Stele, his muscles and bones instantly tensing like a fully drawn bow. He rammed into it again, his shoulder blade striking the blood gate, the impact making his eardrums ring, but the gate remained unmoved, not even sparing a crack.

Lin Daochen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and chuckled. Before his second charge, he held his breath, gathering all his boiling blood energy into his dantian, then unleashing it with a sudden burst—this headbutt slammed into the center of the blood gate with a crisp crack, and spiderweb-like cracks finally exploded in the center of the blood gate!

"It's done!" His heart leaped with excitement. Though he hadn't broken down the door, he could already hear the soft rattling of the chains loosening inside. Hope was beating deep within the crack.

But the illusory image of the Heavenly Stele was rapidly dimming, its light flowing away like sand in an hourglass. Lin Daochen knew that the time had come; with it, he had only one last gamble left.

"Stop? I won't stop!" he roared, his eyes burning with crimson light. He abandoned all fancy moves, and with a flick of his wrists, he unleashed the "Overturning Clouds and Rain Palm" – black clouds swirled into a vortex, and blood mist was forcibly drawn from the ground, gathering into a gigantic, dark palm that blotted out the sky.

The giant hand absorbed all the malevolent energy from the surrounding area, and a ghostly light flickered at the center of the vortex, as if it could tear apart the void. Lin Daochen's spine was ramrod straight, and his pupils reflected only that blood-red door, nothing else.

The ink-black palm, carrying immense force, slammed down! The air was crushed into a vacuum, and the airflow around the blood gate shrieked like the wails of ghosts. His bones crackled and popped, golden light surged beneath his skin, and he resembled a war god reborn from the ashes.

The Blood Gate trembled violently, its surface rippling like waves of blood, and a deafening roar shook the entire Blood Palace, sending dust flying. Lin Daochen's temples bulged with veins, and beads of sweat instantly evaporated upon hitting the ground, but his gaze remained fixed on that door, unwavering.

Suddenly, a thought struck him; the residual power of the Heavenly Stele still coursed through his meridians. He abruptly made a hand seal, activating the first move of the Heavenly Stele Hand—not a direct smash, but a guiding motion!

The fine rain drifting from the distant Guanghan Palace actually penetrated the dome of the Blood Palace, flowing into his palm and condensing into a ball of clear, azure water. Wherever the halo reached, even the stench of blood quietly dissipated.

But when his gaze swept across the blood gate, his mind suddenly cleared: what needed to be split open now was not mystery, not ingenuity, but brute force that could crush everything!

He stopped the rain, surging his blood and energy throughout his body. Golden flames rose from the soles of his feet, sweeping across his entire body like wildfire. Wherever the golden light reached, even the cracks in the ground seemed to scorch.

As the Ancestor Guang'an tumbled about in the sea of ​​blood, he glanced up and saw the illusory image of the Heavenly Stele above Lin Daochen's head intertwined with the overwhelming power of the Cloud-Turning and Rain-Overturning Palm technique. His pupils constricted sharply. Just as he was about to prepare for defense, a violent wave of blood suddenly surged forth, slamming him violently against the stone wall.

Lin Daochen's Adam's apple bobbed, his killing intent like a drawn sword—now!

But when the Ancestor Guang An smashed through the rock wall and crawled out, his face showed no fear. Instead, he grinned with a maniacal smile, his fingernails growing three inches long as he lunged straight at Lin Daochen's face—he was determined to get the secret treasure behind that blood gate.

Lin Daochen showed no fear. He suddenly clapped his hands together, forming a giant, pitch-black claw that slashed straight at the Blood Gate with a shriek.

Ancient runes, like rusted bronze, protruded from the gate's surface. Corpses piled up like mountains all around, leaving only him and his mount standing alone, their killing intent soaring to the heavens. Black claws tore through the sky, the wind howling like knives, and crimson ripples spread across the surface of the blood gate.

The second blow struck with a thud, but the blood gate seemed to be tightly bound by invisible iron chains, remaining completely still, even the tremor was slightly sluggish. Lin Daochen's temples throbbed slightly, beads of sweat rolled down, and his fingertips went numb—this gate was harder, heavier, and more unyielding than he had imagined.

The Ancestor Guang An approached silently, his voice like sandpaper scraping against bones: "Lin Daochen, does a little bug like you dare to knock on the door? Even if you bang your head until it's bleeding, the door won't let you through a crack."

Lin Daochen ignored it, exerted force with his feet, and crashed into the blood gate like an arrow! A muffled thud exploded, and the runes on the gate suddenly flickered, as if emitting a mournful wail, as if a living thing was groaning in pain.

The Ancestor of Guang'an narrowed his eyes, his gaze like hooks, fixed intently on him. In his eyes, Lin Daochen was a broken-winged sparrow, a bleeding lamb, the last piece of fat on the chopping block. He licked his back teeth, waiting only to tear open this shell and seize the most precious treasure hidden behind the Blood Gate.

Lin Daochen felt a metallic taste in his throat, and the force of his ramming against the door rebounded back, his internal organs churning. Knowing that further attacks were futile, he simply withdrew his stance and turned to face the Guang'an Ancestor directly. The fierce aura between his brows vanished, replaced by a calm as an ancient well, while his aura grew increasingly heavy, like a taut bowstring, stretched but not yet released.

Although the Ancestor Guang An had the advantage of the Blood Sea, he dared not underestimate this person—this kid was too tough, his eyes were too cold, and he was not the kind of softie who would kneel down after taking a few hits.

Just then, two figures silently slipped into the shadows at the foot of the mountain: Ancestor Mei and Ancestor Fuyun had broken through the outer barrier of the Blood Sea and infiltrated its heart. They hid deep within the mist, their auras perfectly concealed, but their gazes were like needles, firmly locked onto the back of Ancestor Guang'an's neck.

Old Ancestor Mei slowly put away the small gold-edged flag, his face ashen and his voice like tearing silk: "Guang An, you, a dignified ancestor, actually dare to rob a junior of his treasure? Where is your shame?"

Ancestor Fuyun chuckled and slightly raised his sleeve: "Brother Mei, if you had revealed the forbidden banner earlier, we wouldn't have been left watching helplessly."

Old Master Mei snorted through his nose, without even lifting his eyelids, his fingers were already rapidly forming hand seals—time was running out, Lin Daochen wouldn't last much longer.

With nowhere to retreat, Lin Daochen simply stepped forward, his spine ramrod straight, a surge of primal power erupting from his body, condensing into a thin layer of cyan-gold light on his skin, like wearing armor.

Guang An Ancestor sneered, a sinister smile curving his lips, but his peripheral vision suddenly narrowed—two chilling sensations were creeping up the back of his neck.

Without further hesitation, he stomped his foot and transformed into a blood-red shadow, his robes fluttering like a summoning banner, instantly turning the surrounding air into a thick blood mist.