Monster Chronicles: My Daoist Skill Comes from Mythology Chapter 734 635: The Mythical Taiyi, the True Form of Luoshu

"I just don't like this guy using my name."

"And who are you?" the Duke of Thunder inquired with a grin.

"The Eastern King!"

"Such audacity! To dare defile a mythical Great Power!"

This time, the Duke of Thunder launched his assault without the slightest hesitation.

A torrent of lightning cascaded down, engulfing the pair as if they were being submerged in a tempest of electrical energy.

Pure Yang, sensing his impending demise, let out a carefree chuckle and remarked:

"Haha, you've apparently provoked this fellow's deepest ire. The Duke of Thunder is quite adept at ingratiating himself; he's likely eager to impress the Eastern King right now."

"Let's observe his performance," Song Lin responded nonchalantly, a smile playing on his lips.

"Do you truly believe you are the Eastern King?" Pure Yang's eyes widened in disbelief, questioning if the man before him had succumbed to madness or been ensnared by a curse.

Here was a plain mortal, yet he boasted with such shamelessness.

"You doubt me?"

As the lightning drew nearer, Song Lin's expression remained utterly serene.

"Of course, I doubt you; you possess no mana."

"Mana is merely an external implement. True power is attained through comprehending the principles of the Great Dao and possessing an indomitable spirit."

It was in this exact moment that Song Lin truly perceived something profound.

He understood why the ancient Saints never deemed mere cultivation as their ultimate pursuit.

Some chose to relinquish their physical forms, transmigrating into mortals with no path of return.

Others willingly embraced oblivion, becoming naught but insentient entities.

This was because they were venturing into an entirely novel form of cultivation.

Their aim was to fathom the Dao, to regress to the primordial essence of existence.

A portion did not even engage in cultivation, allowing nature to take its course until their natural end.

Consider Confucius, for example—the Sage genuinely passed away, leaving no tangible legacy, vanishing completely from the annals of history.

Yet, across All Heavens and Myriads of Worlds, his memory persists, indelibly imprinted upon the currents of time.

This signifies an exceptionally elevated state of being.

"Hmm…"

Only now did Pure Yang begin to comprehend the situation.

Despite their prolonged exchange, the lightning overhead had ceased its descent, refraining from striking him down.

He tilted his head upwards to witness that all surrounding him had become utterly still.

The light, the lightning, the people, the gentle breeze, the sounds…

Only the two of them remained untouched by this stasis.

"Senior, did you enact this?"

Pure Yang inquired with profound astonishment, instinctively employing respectful terms.

"Indeed."

Song Lin gestured with his hand.

Whoosh!

A radiant golden light pierced through the void.

The immense power emanating from Pure Yang instantly disintegrated the Duke of Thunder and his retinue into mere dust.

Pure Yang, as a inheritor of the Eastern King's Taoist lineage, immediately recognized the origin of this formidable power.

"But this should be impossible—only one individual should inherit the Taoist legacy. How can there be two? Senior, when did your bloodline awaken?"

Boom!

Before Song Lin could offer a response.

A colossal golden gateway rent through the fabric of space.

From this portal emerged two distinct figures.

The elder of the two, a middle-aged man, was clad in resplendent golden Taoist robes adorned with the motif of a golden solar disc, carrying a luminous lamp.

Following him was a younger man, whose features bore a subtle resemblance but exuded an air of overwhelming arrogance.

"The Eastern King!"

Upon witnessing the manifestation of this formidable Primordial Spirit entity, Pure Yang's pupils constricted in shock.

This individual was none other than the fabled Eastern King.

However, when Pure Yang's gaze fell upon the man accompanying the Eastern King, his eyes blazed crimson, consumed by an uncontainable fury.

That man was the Eastern King's descendant, the very scoundrel responsible for the indignity inflicted upon his sister.

Song Lin swiftly intervened, restraining Pure Yang's impulsive surge.

The two figures claiming the title of Eastern King regarded each other across the vast expanse.

"You proclaim yourself the Eastern King as well?" the genuine Eastern King inquired with a trace of amusement.

"Are you the stain that tarnishes the Eastern King's esteemed name?" Song Lin countered sharply.

"Hmph, my descendant committed transgressions, and I shall administer his punishment. However, should you dare to interfere, do not hold me accountable for my ensuing actions."

Boom!

The Eastern King unleashed a devastating strike.

Billowing flames erupted, encircling them from every direction.

The fire traveled faster than light itself; there was practically no discernible interval between its launch and the onset of combustion.

Yet, in that critical moment, all the flames were utterly absorbed by Song Lin.

As he advanced deliberately toward the pair, Song Lin continued to draw in the fiery essence emanating from the Eastern King's lamp.

In the blink of an eye, he stood directly beside them.

At this juncture, even the Eastern King himself stood frozen in stunned disbelief, his feet rooted to the ground.

"Cease masquerading as the Eastern King if you lack the inherent dignity to truly embody the role. At your current standing, you would be indistinguishable from a mere attendant serving in the Palace of the Polestar, devoid of any notable distinction."

"Spare…"

The Eastern King's pupils contracted as the stark truth of Song Lin's words dawned upon him. Just as he was about to utter a plea, both he and his descendant were instantly reduced to nothingness, dissolving into ash in the following instant.

"Disciple pays respects to the Eastern King! Many thanks for avenging me, Eastern King!"

With a thud, Pure Yang dropped to his knees.

Gazing at this man of unfathomable depth, Pure Yang finally confirmed it.

This man truly was the divine being who emerged from legend.

He was the embodiment of myth, the true representation of the divine.

From then on, more and more individuals came to challenge Song Lin.

They were formidable in their own right; Song Lin's body, after all, had cultivated for less than ten years.

But Song Lin had already mastered the Spiritual Dao.

Even without practicing cultivation techniques, he could directly sense the Dao and command its power.

This power required no cultivation.

He was the Dao itself.

Song Lin fought his way into the depths of the Myth Organization.

Using Buddhist methods, he assessed the karma and causal ties of individuals. Those with heavy karmic debts were slain outright; those below a certain threshold were captured.

Soon, a group of people stood within the grand hall.

No matter how striking their features were, male or female, each bore bruised and battered faces.

Song Lin sat in the seat once occupied by Taiyi, while the others dared not utter a word of dissent. Some bore gazes of reverence, believing Song Lin to be the true Eastern King and embodiment of myth.

Others suspected Song Lin was merely a demon arising from some secret realm.

"The Taiyi God won't forgive you."

"Good, then summon him now!"

Whoosh!

As his words fell.

A golden gate suddenly opened.

A man wearing a faceless mask emerged.

Seeing Song Lin, Taiyi removed his mask.

Apart from two golden eyes, this figure had no other facial features, resembling a melting candle.

"So that's how it is!"

As the Taiyi God grasped the essence of the Time-Space Dao, he immediately understood what had occurred.

In a flicker of movement.

He used his unique abilities to travel twenty years into the past.

In front of the orphanage.

An infant cried loudly.

This was Song Lin of the past.

Step by step, Taiyi advanced, murderous intent flashing in his gaze.

His figure appeared ghostlike, as this past timeline was not his domain. Unable to fully manifest his form, he had no control over this world's substances.

So-called time travel was limited merely to observing the threads of time.

Taiyi activated his ability, his golden eyes gleaming.

On the balcony of the ninth floor, a woman hung out clothing to dry, her back almost hitting a flowerpot.

If the flowerpot fell, it would crush the infant beneath.

Just a little closer, a tiny bit more…

Suddenly, Taiyi sensed a powerful suction force.

His figure was pulled into a black hole.

In a flash, he found himself back in the grand hall.

Standing before him was Song Lin, holding something that made Taiyi's hair stand on end.

It was an ancient scroll.

When Song Lin gently unfurled it, it revealed a diagram depicting the cosmic network.

Mystical and intricate, profoundly enigmatic.

As Taiyi stood frozen, Song Lin smiled and said:

"So this is how someone could control time—your true form is the Luoshu scroll itself. How convenient for me."

…

(Recommending: My Pet is from History)