Divine Gate stage.
In fact as I've continued the novel, I've found it becoming too messy. Too many ideas, as well as too great change. The main character in my opinion has no real reason any more, I will be refining his character later.
I originally wanted my character to be a horrible person, without any care. Later I felt he was a very vulnerable and innocent person. The image I originally had actually before deciding to write a villain, was a small villager climbing a mountain seeking Immortal destiny. No fortune, or good items attached. A lonesome figure drawn in the Immortal Dao. I want to re-establish that, hence I will be making abrupt changes to plot henceforth...
...
A wind flashed, and trembling specks of stars flashed.
An old man with wrinkled skin, suddenly began to shine. His dry, and pale skin, turned ruddy and full of life. His aged skin suddenly peeled back and became smooth, and his silver hair turned pitch black. He soon resembled a young man in the prime of his life.
Below him, was a multilayered pattern that twisted like a ninja star, the dark trembling red patterns began to suddenly Disappear.
The platform that he was on began to shake a bit, and a wave of red gas was pumped up.
Below the platform, a pool of dried corpses were slowly being burnt by a golden fire turning into the red gas.
The former old man nodded, as he punched out.
He then suddenly looked at the sky, seemingly beyond the layers of jade covering his head.
A strange and eerie smile hanging on his lips, "Eh? One of my descendants has somehow got some Immortal fortune. Haha, this is excellent! With this I'll be able to consolidate my gate, and finally become a God!"
A Taiji symbol rotated in his eyes.
His cultivation began to usher out surges of celestial energy that caused the hard ground and ceiling to crack. One could not imagine, a slight change in one's emotions and such a thing. A chill could be felt.
The old man was Huang Tenzi, the Grandmaster of the Huang Empire. He ruled countless millennials ago, he was an ancient god. Even to this day he had lived, perhaps it was close to ten thousand years.
He cultivated the script passed down from his ancestors, the Unholy scripture. It was a deviation of typical Daoist mastery over the Taiji.
His finger began to write in midair, and strokes of crimson remained in the air. It gradually formed the character for Thunder (雷), and sparks of electricity danced about roaring like a slumbering dragon. Then he wrote the characters for wood and mountain (木山). The symbols hurriedly changed, with the Thunder character turning black, and the wood and mountain character's turning red.
Green pastures set ablaze.
A giant black 火 character hung in the air with a crimson 血 Character. The 火 slowly invaded and burnt the crimson character.
A flaming crown soon grew on Huang Tenzi's head.
It surged into the sky, passing through the palace above his head. It rose above the clouds and grew into the shape of a small sun. It then sparkled brightly glimmering and it's glimmers stretched across the realms.
Faint red circles formed on the current Emperors head, and suddenly his blood turned cold and with a hideous face he cried.
Huang Tengfei frowned, and stared up.
Every member who carried the Huang Clans blood suddenly found themselves shaking, as beams of light touched their heads.
Wu Motian looked at the East and frowned.
He swept his hands forth, and tides of clouds surged. He formed countless handsign's and the various ambiant celestial powers suddenly surged.
A thunderstorm roared behind Wu Motian.
"A curse of this magnitude!? Damn that old ghoul!"
He spat out beams of life force, over a hundred year's disappeared from his body.
A sparkling starry formation formed above his head, it was as if ten Stars were superimposed. The atmosphere cleared up and the countless stars in the sky sparkled.
"Heavenly lake Bell!"
The stars fell slowly, like ten thousand heavenly orbs and surrounded Wu Motian as if an ocean of stars!
A silver shell erupted out from the sea, and covered Wu Motian.
Wu Motian called his Dharna Idol out, and it's closed eyes shot open. Veins popped across the Dharna idol, it's eyes turning red from the numerous blood vessels growing.
Wu Motian frowned.
He had to summon his natal treasure.
Any wrong move and he would be crippled.
The Dharma Idol had greatly changed not only with Wu Motian's changes in mentality and the power of the Supreme bloodline, but also with the eleventh leaf opening.
Now it had 24 hands, it's body was as white as cream, and was chiseled as if it was marble. It's hair was half white, and half black. Meanwhile it's eyes were similar to a normal persons, except within the dark pupil a flash of gold sparkled. The Lightning crown had turned a deep Azure, and thin red tears fell from the Avatars eyes down.
The Dharma idol still had the broken sword, the demon book, and the decapitated head. Not to mention the pot with the milk like liquid. Now it also had more items. Each hand carried something. With the original hands forming the same mudra, two more pairs accompanied the first pair in forming strange mudras. There were also Dan's that floated above it's hands, and also fire and water. Meanwhile at the heart of the Dharma idol, a black vaccum twisted into a white desolation.
The first two hands forming a mudra unraveled, and the right hand stretched out and flung back, penetrating the Dharma Idols stomach. Soon a small Veridian color bronze bell appeared from the retreating hand. It had carved on it in Sanskrit, Demon sealing, Ghost warding, and God slaying. The Dharma idol tossed the bell into the air, and it trembled and connected with the formation instantly causing it to shuffle in countless spiritual vibrations.
The Dharma idol then tossed the milk like liquid onto the bell, which caused it to loudly ring. Heavenly vibrations rang, and four spectral demons appeared at the four cardinal directions. They put their hands together, and sang the Dharma.
Yet even under this grand formation, violent red flames danced with small tongues of black following along. It devoured the stars, and the Buddhas were sent to Nirvana. The bell sung a harsh tune as it swept from left to right without a proper limit.
It was deafening.
Yet the barrier protecting Wu Motian was firm, the stars spun forming countless constellation's. The Azure Dragon, the white Tiger, The Black tortoise, the Vermilion bird, four celestial mansions rose, and from of the center of the universe a Qilin roared. Five elements freed from the endless domains, and merged into an immortal barrier.
Meanwhile, Huang Tenzi frowned, but then laughed!
"Haha, my descendant sure is incomparable! what kind of Immortal destiny must he stumbled upon! I must steal it!"
He wrote five character quickly, 佛, 征服, 石猴
A glistening golden handprint, dancing with mystical rainbow light, followed by stumbling clouds of immortal mist. It's weight as if a mountain, yet as light as a feather, an improbable duality. A kindness, a hatred, a virtue, a sin. Yet all pure, without imperfection, as if the distinct light that rejects all unholy and distinct character, yet unites all in it's greater infinity.
The hand travelled across the sky as if within a flash, yet also very slowly as if a snail moving. No more apt would be to say that the hand belongs here and there, overwhelming the sky and capturing the world. The realms are succumbed and all life must bow, as the Buddha's hand guides all to freedom. A great Prajñā to cultivate the self, and escape the karma set across that enslave all in a lifelong cycle.
Six cycles broken, and the ultimate truth is reached, and the self becomes all.
Wu Motian's face turned pale.
He swung his sleeves apart, heavy winds, chilly and haunting with the cries of children, as if drawn from the depths of Avīci. A large grey FeiLong roared and bursts of winds dragged forth spilling fallen leaves into the sky!
Ten Fei Lian's swept their winds and cawed as they acted as venerable servants of the guardian deity of the wind.
Feilong's four claws, and hidden claw dragged across the void, and turbulent forces came forth gushing towards the palm.
Impure black matter scattered like mist covering the bell, and shielding it from the great golden palm.
Wu Motian shook slightly.
In the end his formation abilities could only be counted as fair, with only the possession of some heaven defying formations obtained by fortune. For example this Nine Deity Squall.
Yet in front of a follower of Confucianism like Huang Tenzi he was bound to be defeated while not immediately, eventually.
Wu Motian waved his sleeves and waves of mysterious runes washed out from them.
Draconic roars hummed as the oval shield covering the bell began to boil as if a pool of lava.
It turned from milky pale white to red, and then to black.
He then sat down and began to mediate.
His mind began to switch between countless ideas.
His last ditch effort would not last longer than half a day.
A couple hours passed, and he was still without hope.
He ultimately realized the only hope in front of him was an advancement in cultivation.
That was to step into Divine Gate stage.
Yet he beliefs and thoughts weren't firm enough to step into that realm.
He had only recently found a new path, and begun to stumble down it's treacherous road.
He only had one option, to stuff down everything, and become a hapless, hopeless villain once more. A pure, overpowering extreme that could firmly build his path forward.
It was to walk his past way, and forgo everything he has encountered. A front of a demon, to hide his insecurity.
Regardless it was his only choice.
Wu Motian made a few handsign's, and a complex diagram appeared underneath him. Runes flashed in a mysterious, language. Different from the runes of Heavens which cultivators use in formations, it was the Dao seeds.
These were what allowed one to build the foundation of a Divine Gate.
A divine Gate had no real form, it was something up to the mind of the user.
Typically others imagined gates, thus making the whole process easier. Some made valleys, Oceans, other natural discoveries made from their own enlightened states.
The Divine Gate simply had to collect the Dao laws for the cultivators inner realm.
Divine Gate stage was like the construction of a pure, lawful, and supreme energy, chaotic and unstable, yet set to build a universe, The Divine sea realm was the big bang, and further realms were the subsequent creations added to the Universe.
Dao Seeds were what brought celestial energy in place, forged the Dao laws, and meditates ones inner world and it's beings.
Wu Motian was forming a long bridge, cracked and full of ancient awe. With purple clouds from the first breath of Heaven, coiling. Waterfalls fell from the sky like pillars, and rainbows flickered across the radiant realm. The bridge led to a tall mountain, as if a single sword piercing the sky. At the top was a small broken well, and when one looked inside one could see countless sights. With a look a nine story pagoda bathe in a azure plume of fire. With a blink, a dragon with grey and white scales, and crimson furious eyes dancing devouring the sun and moon, drinking the Heavens, and Sleeping among the stars.
13 repetitions of various images.
The twelfth, was a black colored figure with no discernible features, bar it's long white hair, and crimson red robe. Below it's feet was blood, brain matter, floating bones and sinew. Beasts like Roc's, Phoenix's, Dragon's, Kunlun's, alongside countless men and women laid beneath his black sword, that sparkled in radiant moonlight.
The figure seemed to notice the gaze, and turned back, and it's crimson eyes stared coldly into the void. It dragged it's sword across the floor, revealing a deep cut barely held by a few bits of muscle across his right arm.
The figure moved forward, as if hoping to even kill you.
Finally the last scene appeared.
In it atop a small island, floating admit yellow clouds, and golden light. A Bodhi tree rose up, accompanying it were various mystical things. Ancient Qilins, as well as small pixies, pegasi roamed the lands, galloping winds. With a sudden breeze, Immortal cranes flew from a pond climbing to the nine Heavens. Atop the sky a black dog chased the moon, and below a long chariot reached, an a graceful fairy Immortal appeared, her red cloth floating against the clouds. With a loud cheer from her beautiful voice, Nine sun crows arrived and greeted the fairy, and their brother leading the chariot.
On the island countless miracles appeared, ten thousand kinds of flowers, fragrant herbs, and dashing lotuses flooded the realm.
Emerald green bamboo reached to the sky, and enormous pandas gently napped.
Surrounding the island were eight different creatures, four good, four evil, chasing one another, and tightly knotted with black chains.
The Azure dragon chased a Taotie, The White Tiger chased Qiongqi, The Black tortoise snapped at Taowu, and finally the Vermillion bird chased Hundun. They spun around rotating the island.
In the center of the island, within a sea of crimson spider lilies grew, and in the center smiling with a faint lost look was a scholar like youth. He wore a White Taoist robe, and Taoist crown.
His eyes were gold, like crystals shimmering silently as if in infinite thought, yet empty.
A sword, bearing a spider lily mark at the hilt was attached to his waist.
Above his head was a Spinning Taiji symbol, which overlapped with a Dharma wheel.
Which was surmounted by a black clock, that clicked away loudly.
The young man was handsome, very handsome, with sharp features that gave him a noble command. His eyebrows were sharp, and filled with righteousness, and his red lips curling into a devious grin.
The young man closed his eyes, and suddenly everything Disappeared, but the young man.
That breathtaking scene, those thousands of wonders, and mystical fantasies all fled.
The young man opened his eyes again, and now stopping valleys, coiling mountain chains, and Immortals danced across the realms. Clouds stormed like generals at war, across the azure plains.
Horses raced across the land, and all kinds of beings lived.
The beggar who silently slept along the garbage bin. The young student, the only son of a affluent family, silently writing a love letter. An Emperor frowning as he hears the motions of his crumbling Empire. A mother begging for food, a father fighting for money, a son struggling for a parent, a daughter suffering silently.
Ten thousand lives, ten thousand ways.
Each came, and then blinked away.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The young man silently then once again opened his eyes.