Chapter 681: Today, Duke of Thunder Zhou Remains the God of the Common Folk

Amidst the storm-swept mountains and forests, a mountain demon lurked in secret.

Thunder rolled ceaselessly, lightning split the sky again and again. Though the demon trembled in fear, greed gnawed at its heart. Time and again it peered out from behind trees toward that dilapidated shrine, half-hidden in wind, rain, and storm.

Boom!

A sudden bolt of lightning lit half the heavens, making the entire range shine as bright as day. The mountain demon shuddered, instinctively lifting its head. But that single glance only terrified it further.

For the night sky above was crowded with divine figures. Mighty and towering, their bodies wreathed in holy radiance with thunder-weapons clutched in their hands. All of them had their gazes lowered toward the shrine below, as though facing a dire enemy.

Though the demon had never seen such beings before, it instantly knew what they were. These could only be the Dukes of Thunder of legend, the bane of every demon and specter beneath heaven, the kind of divine presence that inspired instinctive dread the moment they appeared. And now they had all gathered here, fixing their eyes upon that shabby little shrine.

The very same little shrine it had been spying on...

The demon’s fear grew sharper, nearly overwhelming. Fortunately, not a single one of those gods spared it a glance.

Boom!

Suddenly, another Duke of Thunder appeared among them.

This one was clad in dark robes, his form enveloped by dazzling divine radiance and surging lightning, and the light and thunder far surpassed those of his peers. His face shone with majesty and righteous might, and the primal fear he stirred in the demon’s heart was greater still than all the others combined.

Yet this Duke of Thunder, upon arriving, did not remain long. He paused but for an instant before vanishing into the thunderclouds once more.

Rumble, rumble...

The sky thundered, like a celestial war-chariot rolling overhead.

From within the tangled branches and leaves, the mountain demon risked another furtive glance. One by one, the other Dukes of Thunder also departed, though one of them briefly cast its gaze in the demon’s direction. Terrified, it pressed itself low against the roots of an ancient tree, shivering, feigning that it was merely sheltering from the rain.

A long moment passed. Nothing happened, and at last it dared to raise its head. The heavens above were already empty, and no divine radiance remained. No Dukes of Thunder could be seen, and even the flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder had vanished.

All at once, only the gentle autumn rain was left, falling softly through the forested mountains, its pattering sound quiet and reassuring.

The mountain demon straightened up again, craning its neck to peer toward that dilapidated shrine by the mountain path. Yet now it felt that the shrine no longer housed a passing mortal priest, but instead either a god of immense and terrible power, or else some dread demon that had taken on human form. Even the faint firelight seeping out of the shrine made its heart pound with dread.

When the Daoist awoke, the firelight within the shrine still flickered.

The flame was not large and mostly confined to the little stone hearth, casting the rocks in a bright glow. Beyond the hearth it spread thinly, painting the opposite wall with a dim, reddish hue.

The autumn rain had not ceased, still dripping into the shrine, where it had gathered into a small puddle on the floor. A few sticks of dry firewood nearby had already been dampened, though the fire’s warmth still filled the room.

A calico cat sat bolt upright before the Daoist, staring intently into the pitch-black forest beyond the temple gate, keeping solemn watch over him.

“Lady Calico, you haven’t slept yet?” The Daoist opened his eyes and asked softly.

“...!” The cat whipped her head around as though struck by lightning. With a grave expression, she fixed her gaze on him for a moment before asking, “Daoist priest, are you awake?”

“Awake for now.”

“Not asleep for now,” the calico replied. “Just now, while you were sleeping, a demon came and hid nearby, spying on us. I was about to go out and confront it when suddenly many Dukes of Thunder descended from the heavens. The swallow said every single one of them had come. He kept watch outside, while I guarded inside.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

“Just now, the Dukes of Thunder left again.”

“I know.”

“What did they come for?”

“To pay me a visit.”

“Then why didn’t they come inside?”

“The Dukes of Thunder are of exalted rank. This shabby mountain shrine is far too crude. They should be received in a worthier place.”

“Then why did they leave again?”

“Because their visit was complete.”

“Hm?” The cat tilted her head, staring at him, her face full of puzzlement.

“What time is it now?”

“It’s night now.”

“What watch of the night?”

“It’s night now.”

“Sir, it’s nearly the fifth watch,” came the swallow’s voice from above.

“It’s raining outside. You’d better come in. No need for you two to keep watch any longer. Take the chance before dawn to rest. We’ll need to set out early tomorrow morning for Mount Wubian.”

“I’m on the roof. There’s a cluster of branches here, and so long as the wind doesn’t stir, they’ll shield me from the rain,” came the swallow’s reply from above.

“You sleep. I will rest after daybreak.” At last, the calico cat stood, stretching lazily with relief. She looked around, then padded over to the woodpile. Tilting her head back, she searched for where the rain dripped in through the shrine roof, nudging at the pile with her paw to move the sticks away from the leaks. Only then did she return to the hearth and curl up beside it.

“I had a dream last night.”

“Did you dream of me,

meow

?” the calico cat asked almost without thinking.

“No.” The Daoist shook his head calmly. He found it amusing how unguarded the cat’s emotions were.

“Then what did you dream of?”

“I dreamed of my homeland,” the Daoist told her. “And of a strange, wondrous world. Lady Calico, you would surely like it.”

“Yin-Yang Mountain,

meow

?”

The calico yawned where she lay. Hearing that he had not dreamed of her, her interest waned. Still, she liked to echo the Daoist’s words, and her natural curiosity kept her listening. Since he was willing to share, she casually humored him.

“My master took me in as a child, but I wasn’t born on Yin-Yang Mountain.”

“Then where were you from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was it another little shrine,

meow

?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re not going to sleep,

meow

?”

“I’ll sleep now.”

“Go on then. The swallow and I will keep watch for you.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

The Daoist remained seated cross-legged, his back against the wall, firelight flickering over him, and once again closed his eyes.

And curiously, though the storm raged outside, and wind and rain wailed over the mountain, within the shrine the fire burned on through the night. A little furred creature kept watch at his side, and a swallow stood guard upon the roof. Even when the full host of Heaven’s Thunder Gods had descended, he had not stirred to leave. Somehow, this gave him a sense of peace.

Even though he knew it was no real protection.

He did not know how long had passed, when suddenly a bubbling sound rose nearby, mingled with the faint aroma of rice wine and rich sweetness. Lady Calico was cooking breakfast.

When he opened his eyes again, it was already dawn. The wind stilled, the rain ceased. Autumn mists shrouded the mountains. A great red-crowned white crane spread its wings, pierced through the clouds of fog, and flew off into the distance.

“Lady Calico.”

“

Meow

?”

“If you see a temple or shrine down below, let’s stop for a while.”

“What for? To sneak a meal,

meow

?”

“We still owe an old friend three sticks of incense,” the Daoist’s voice came from above, carried on the wind stirred by the crane’s wings. “It has been a debt long left unpaid. It’s time to return it.”

“Got it.”

The celestial crane flew farther and farther away.

***

In the Great Luo Heaven, within the Rising Clouds Palace... Duke of Thunder Zhou stood before the Celestial Emperor, facing his questioning.

“How did the battle go?”

“Your Majesty,” Duke of Thunder Zhou replied, “I could not defeat the current heir of Hidden Dragon Temple.”

“Why?” The Celestial Emperor’s voice was heavy. “You bore my divine mandate and the incense of my authority, you had the Dream God’s aid, and even two Buddhas from the Western Paradise assisting you. How could you fail? I have heard you and this heir of Hidden Dragon Temple were acquainted many years ago. Do not tell me you held back out of personal sentiment?”

“Your Majesty...” Duke of Thunder Zhou’s tone toward the Emperor was more deferential than when he addressed the other ancient deities of Heaven, yet his words remained steady, not the timid caution of a mortal subject before his lord.

“I entered the dreams of Hidden Dragon Temple’s successor and spoke with him at length. Though his aim is not merely to ‘restore the path to heavens and depose the unworthy gods,’ yet all that he seeks still lies in the path of serving the people ‘aligns with the Heavenly Dao above and the people's will below.’ As Chief of the Thunder Division, my duties are to reward good, punish evil, hunt down thieves, slay demons, and oversee the gods. But this heir is no villain, nor are his deeds wicked, nor is he without virtue. According to the heavenly laws I uphold, I cannot bring him to justice.”

“Insolence!” The Celestial Emperor’s fury shook the hall. “You were once a subject of Great Yan, now a divine being of the Heavenly Palace. It was the descendants of Great Yan who enshrined you as a god of Heaven. It was my recognition of your integrity that raised you to a legitimate god of the Thunder Division, even its Chief Officer. And now, when I command you to descend and slay evil, with the incense of authority flowing into your hand, you dare shrink back on the battlefield? Do you think yourself worthy of me?”

“Your Majesty...” Duke of Thunder Zhou bowed low, his voice solemn. “It was not Your Majesty who made me a god after death, but the common people of the world. I need only be worthy of the heavenly laws, and of the people.”

“...” The Celestial Emperor fell into silence.

Then he spoke again, “The heir of Hidden Dragon Temple now heads east, to Mount Wubian. This is the final chance. If he cannot be stopped, once all five paths to heavens fall under his control, the power to ascend and become divine will no longer rest in the hands of the people of the world. His next step may well be to reach into the Heavenly Palace itself, into Divine Dao itself, and the consequences are beyond measure.”

The Emperor’s gaze sharpened. “Now I grant you one last chance. Descend and block his path. Should you succeed, from henceforth you shall stand equal to the Fiery Sun Emperor Lord, free to claim the incense of ten prefectures, and enjoy it for eternity.”

“...”

To stand equal with the Fiery Sun Emperor Lord would mean no longer serving as the Celestial Emperor’s subject. To freely choose the incense offerings of ten unclaimed prefectures, if they were all great prefectures, that alone would equal nearly half the incense revenue of the entire Heavenly Palace. Even with his present fame in the mortal realm, with incense offerings flourishing in his name, it could never compare. If the Celestial Emperor truly granted such a promise, then combined with his current worship among mortals, the result would be unimaginable.

It was indeed a great temptation. The Duke of Thunder Zhou shook his head.

Had he still been alive in the mortal world, even if his heart remained upright, he doubted whether he could resist such allure. But now he had already become a god.

Having died once, having cast off the turbid mortal body to become divine, how could he still harbor so many human desires and pursuits?

But alas, he had seen that other world.

Any deity whose divinity was forged by the people, who stood here only through their faith and devotion, who sat upon this seat only because of their vision of a better world, none who had glimpsed that world could ever deny its coming.

And even less could he raise his own hand to prevent it. That would be the greatest betrayal of all.

“If I have disappointed Your Majesty’s trust, then whatever punishment or censure Your Majesty decrees, I will accept.” Duke of Thunder Zhou spoke solemnly to the Celestial Emperor. “But I shall not remain here any longer. I take my leave.”

Having spoken, he bowed, turned, and departed.

Three months later, the path to heaven of Mount Wubian too was restored.