“All of you sitting here come from different corners of the Nine Provinces. Some among you are barely eight years old. Whether it was by coincidence or deliberate choice that you arrived here, it makes no difference. Since you have come to our Divine Repository Cult, there is only one path—join us.”
Master Feng didn’t say the other half of that sentence aloud, but the meaning was clear: those who did not join would die. In a chamber within the secret realm sat ten individuals, listening to Master Feng explain the origin of the Divine Repository Cult and the stories concerning the Divine Repository Venerable.
What he said was largely consistent with the information provided by the Heavenly Secrets Pavilion, except that he omitted the part about killing people.
“Perhaps some of you still do not believe in the matter of the Divine Repository and think it’s nothing more than an absurd legend. I will show you a demonstration.”
Master Feng slapped his own chest. The violent impact shattered his Nascent Soul right before their eyes. The eight people present trembled in shock.
The Nascent Soul was evolved from the Golden Core—once shattered, one would not simply fall back to the Golden Core Stage, but all the way down to the Foundation Establishment Stage! Just to preach, he’d go that far? None of these people knew much about the Divine Repository Cult.
They had been examined repeatedly by cult members, bombarded with hints, and drawn in one step at a time.
They had only been told that joining the Divine Repository Cult would grant them a wondrous power known as the Power of the Divine Repository, which could raise one’s cultivation stage, dispel inner demons, heal wounds—its uses were said to be endless. As for whether this was true or not, they had never seen it with their own eyes.
Jiang Li and Ji Kongkong sat expressionless. A shattered Nascent Soul? A minor spectacle.
Then Master Feng released the Power of the Divine Repository from his body. The golden radiance surged, repairing his shattered Nascent Soul. Within just a few breaths, the Nascent Soul was as good as new.
The eight onlookers had never witnessed anything like it. Everyone knew that once the Nascent Soul cracked, the only way to heal it was to spend a fortune and buy a Returning Wind and Flame Pill from the Dao Sect. They had never heard of restoring it with mere energy.
The Power of the Divine Repository truly existed! Most of them were convinced now, though a few still had doubts. Master Feng didn’t care either way.
He began to recite the Moksha Tribulation Sutra, said to have been received by the Cult Master in a dream. The scripture was long, convoluted, and obscure, recounting the life of the Divine Repository Venerable. For some inexplicable reason, Jiang Li thought of Zhang Konghu.
If that rough man were to hear this scripture, he’d probably mutter, “What’s this nonsense supposed to mean?” Jiang Li, however, was far more learned. Translating it into his own words, it went something like this: The Divine Repository Venerable was born in the Immortal Realm, innately sacred, omniscient and omnipotent—the one and only existence in all worlds.
From birth, the Venerable knew of the boundless potential hidden within the human body—a divine repository concealed within each person. If one could unlock it, anyone could become divine. In the Venerable’s eyes, both immortals and mortals were ignorant beings—mortals a little more so.
Thus, the Venerable chose countless envoys among the countless worlds of men, called “divine envoys,” to reveal the secret of the divine repository to the foolish masses, hoping one day another being of equal divinity might appear—to relieve the Venerable’s eternal boredom and discuss the Dao together. Jiang Li’s comment was, “Still too conservative.”
In his opinion, as a religion, if your deity didn’t claim to have been born before the Heavenly Dao itself, to have witnessed the world’s creation, split into thousands of incarnations roaming the cosmos, with each thought birthing an epoch, standing steadfast at the upper reaches of the River of Time, untouchable by all karma, capable of reversing heaven with a single flick—then how could that be worthy of worship?
The Moksha Tribulation Sutra was much like the scriptures of the Buddhist and Confucian Sects—reciting it repeatedly could deepen one’s religious conviction; of course, if misused, it could also serve to brainwash. Master Feng did not try to brainwash them, instead using the scripture properly—to strengthen faith.
Those who believed in the Divine Repository Venerable became more devout; those with doubts remained uncertain. As for those like Jiang Li, who didn’t believe a single word, not a single syllable could sway him. Using Divine Sense, Jiang Li observed Ji Kongkong.
He found that the Ruyi Gourd had quietly cast a Silent Tribulation around her. Within this domain, no sound could exist, meaning Ji Kongkong was unaffected by the Moksha Tribulation Sutra altogether. The Silent Tribulation was originally a type of heavenly tribulation used specifically against cultivators who practiced mighty divine arts such as “Word-Manifests-Law” and “Thought-Becomes-Reality.”
Within it, neither speech nor heart-voice worked, and when used alongside lightning tribulation, it forced such cultivators to stand there obediently and be struck by heaven’s thunder. Jiang Li hadn’t expected the Silent Tribulation could be used like this. It was an eye-opening discovery.
After the scripture recitation, Master Feng led everyone into a grand hall. The hall was entirely cast from bronze, its tone dark and heavy. Even with rows of red candles burning, the atmosphere remained dim.
The supporting bronze columns were carved with ferocious, strange creatures that Jiang Li had never seen before. Everything within the hall was massive—the doors, the furnishings—so large one could suspect they were made for beings larger than humans.
At the far end of the bronze hall stood an immortal statue made from human bones: towering skyward, its very presence declaring that the hall itself had been built for it. This human-bone Immortal Statue bore a neutral face, its eyes closed in serene compassion.
Its posture was peaceful, almost benevolent, yet when combined with the bones, it exuded an unsettling discord. This was the statue of the Divine Repository Venerable. Apart from Master Feng and the ten newcomers including Jiang Li, several other cult members were present—as well as ten people bound and struggling on the ground.
Jiang Li could tell that the cult members standing nearby were all Spirit Transformation Stage cultivators, their positions clearly not low. They must have come to oversee the initiation ceremony.
“The rite just now was the First Stage: Receiving the Doctrine. Now begins the Second Stage: Verification of Sincerity.”
Master Feng didn’t bother introducing the cult members. He simply gestured toward the bound prisoners on the ground.
“Each of you will kill one of them. Whether you pass the Second Stage will depend on the result.”
Cheng Ziqi, who had entered together with Jiang Li, hesitated and asked, “Must we really kill these innocent people? Isn’t this a bit too…” He didn’t finish the sentence—but everyone understood the implication.
Too much like the Demonic Path. Others nodded in agreement. None of them had heard anything about killing people during the so-called initiation.
Weren’t they supposed to be guided by the Divine Repository Venerable to unlock their hidden potential? Master Feng seemed to have expected this. He explained calmly, “These individuals were taken from the prisons of the Heavenly Origin Dynasty.
All of them are death-row inmates. They are destined to die today—it’s merely that we are granting their deaths greater meaning.” Since he’d said that, one man stepped forward, unsheathed his blade, and without hesitation stabbed one of the bound prisoners to death.
But nothing happened.
“Does that mean I’ve passed?” the man asked, his tone casual—clearly the sort who had taken lives before.
Master Feng looked at him and said, “You don’t believe in the might of the Divine Repository Venerable, do you?” The man forced out an insincere smile.
“Of course I believe.”
Master Feng sighed in disappointment. Without giving him a chance to react, he struck—killing him instantly.
“Those who do not truly believe in the Divine Repository Venerable, who harbor no faith in Him, shall never awaken the Power of the Divine Repository.”
After joining the cult, members would learn a certain incantation to conceal their Power of the Divine Repository. Now, Master Feng stopped hiding it and chose to display how that power was gained. When he killed someone, a golden radiance with no discernible origin appeared above him.
The light wrapped around Master Feng, making him look like an exalted benefactor of immeasurable virtue—someone who had done countless good deeds and deserved worship.
“This is the Power of the Divine Repository.”
The golden light came swiftly and vanished just as fast, flowing into Master Feng’s body and disappearing without a trace. Jiang Li’s expression tightened slightly. This was the first time he had witnessed the process of acquiring the Power of Virtue.
(End of Chapter)