The Snare of the Old Forces
From the remote antiquity of unnumbered kalpas, across layer upon layer of the Fa-realms, the divine beings of the Old Forces had secretly established intricate arrangements, interwoven like a colossal snare. The space there was vast as an ocean of skies, where tiers of white clouds drifted amidst the hazy aura of the heavens. Yet, hidden deep beneath that protective divine light lay a dense darkness—resembling irreparable fractures within the structure of the obsolete cosmos.
They knew it with absolute clarity: the final era of the Fa was close at hand. Once the light of the Fa-Rectification swept through, it would purify the entirety of the universe, cleansing to the very root all degenerate, selfish, and impure elements. If they refused to change and assimilate into the grand process of the Fa-Rectification, they would be utterly annihilated within the great forge of the Creator.
Out of a dread of elimination, their selfish nature arose. Instead of genuinely searching within and assimilating to the Fa as the Holy King executed the Fa-Rectification, these ancient deities plotted to exploit the Fa-Rectification and the descended disciples. They sought to force the ancient heavenly destiny to operate according to their own selfish will, transforming the magnificent salvation into a mere tool to sustain the existence of the old world.
The Decayed Divine Structure
To execute this conspiracy, the divine beings of the Old Forces sowed corrupt entities deep into the fabric of the Three Realms. These beings descended to the mortal world, cloaking themselves in the dignified countenances of Buddhas, Taos, and Gods, yet their Dao-hearts were completely decayed from within. Magnificent, towering temples, golden statues glittering beneath the sun, and splendid Taoist robes billowing in the mountain wind were all but a glamorous veneer concealing the dark aura gnawing away at human conscience.
Within the consciousness of these mortal religious representatives, not a shred of genuine compassion remained, replaced only by insatiable greed and the corrupt pursuit of fame and profit. The false teachings they established hung like dense curtains of smoke over the human realm, suffocating Righteous Thoughts and driving sentient beings into delusion. Mortals looked up at these false divine images, believing they were illuminated by sacred light, while in truth, they were being led into the deep darkness of ignorance.
The Instrument of Sovereignty
Not stopping there, the malevolent forces beyond the Three Realms secretly selected and groomed an individual of ignoble character, whose nature was steeped in sycophantry, systematically manipulating his ascent to the pinnacle of power as the ruler of the Divine Land. This tyrant possessed no Dao-heart and was bereft of a single righteous thought; his entire life was madly devoted to absolute control and personal gain.
Under the cold, manipulating hands of the ancient evil deities, this earthly ruler naturally became the most brutal instrument of persecution in the mortal world. A mundane puppet clad in the garments of supreme sovereignty, he carried the demonic attributes of the evil gods to forge bloody barriers and violent crackdowns, attempting to halt the widespread diffusion of the True Sutra of the Great Fa. They plotted to use secular violence and worldly authority to force the Fa-Rectification onto the wicked path they had arranged since time immemorial.
The Darkness Envelops the Mortal Realm
Within the mundane realm of delusion, though Giang Long could not yet fully pierce through the conspiracies unfolding across higher dimensions, he clearly perceived an abnormal shroud of evil thoughts gradually permeating the space. Above the Van Lac peaks, dark clouds gathered from all four directions, dense and ominous as poured ink. Cold, malevolent winds swept across the green rice fields, causing the village bamboo groves to rustle continuously like the threatening whispers of ancient ghosts.
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Within the hearts of ordinary people, selfish desire and the competitive pursuit of fame began to rise more fiercely than ever before. Falsehoods that inverted reality and malicious, manufactured rumors spread like a pestilence, creeping into every alleyway and penetrating every thatched roof. Eyes filled with suspicion, coldness, and jealousy gradually appeared even in places that had once been simple and peaceful.
Giang Long sat silently in the full-lotus position beneath the shade of the old bamboo, beside the quiet lotus pond. The rippling surface of the water reflected the iron-gray sky, resembling a grim omen of a storm about to strike the earth. The Jade of Celestial Whispers hidden against his chest vibrated rhythmically, radiating a warm heat. It was not a warning of a specific peril, but a sacred reminder from the primordial covenant of unremembered aeons: darkness was drawing near, and the undercurrents of the old world had officially transformed into a raging tempest.
The Undying Faith
Though faced with invisible pressure from the high heavens and the encircling threats of the Dharma-Ending darkness, Giang Long’s Dao-heart remained as steadfast as bedrock, without a single ripple of wavering. He kept forever engraved in his chest the golden guidance of the Great Fa: “As long as one maintains Righteous Thoughts, all barriers, no matter how immense, shall dissolve like dispersing smoke and fading clouds.”
Within the youth’s breast, the flame of an undying faith burned more fiercely than ever before. It was by no means a vague belief, but a truth validated and forged through relentless cultivation, through life-and-death trials, and through the light currently purifying his homeland.
The sparrows still chirped upon the branches of the old bamboo, and the shallow stream gurgled from distant mountain crevices, weaving a peaceful melody to preserve a balance against the chaos lurking outside. Giang Long comprehended an eternal truth: the supreme process of the Fa-Rectification could not be obstructed or forced by any mundane power, and the light of ultimate Truth could never be covered by the shadows of falsehood. The Holy King’s path of salvation would always operate according to the magnificent heavenly decree of the Creator, never yielding to the wicked, selfish plots of the ancient deities.
Upon the high heavens, the evil deities were still madly scheming. Within the Three Realms, darkness was still frantically expanding. Yet, right amidst this dust-laden mortal world, the light of the Fa-Rectification remained immutable, resilient, and majestic. A gaunt youth bearing the ancient covenant, a gentle grandmother with a pure heart aligned with the Dao, and the tiny village of Van Lac had together become the cradle where the light of salvation originated.
The oil lamps within the dilapidated thatched huts still burned persistently through the night, a grand testament that the light of faith would never be extinguished by the storm of the wilderness. Heaven and earth were witnessing; the Three Realms were listening. The magnificent confrontation between the Fa-Rectification and the malevolent forces had officially begun, and its outcome would redefine the new order for the entire, everlasting cosmos.
CANTO XXXIII: THE ARRANGEMENTS WITHIN THE THREE REALMS
The old world weaves its grim and dark design,
False gods in robes their hollow hearts conceal.
An earthly ruler acts as puppet king,
To strike the world and block the turning wheel.
The mortal realm awakes with scripture tight,
Pure righteous thoughts shall break the dark decree.
The Van Lac lamps defy the stormy night,
An undying faith restores the cosmic sea.