Chapter 110: The Tsunami Approaches

Looking out at the hazy horizon, facing the silent, tranquil sea and the wordless wind, Daoist Mufan felt an indescribable sense of tension in his heart.

Practitioners from the world of cultivation had stepped forth once again, their sole purpose to repel the impending tsunami. Strangely, although it was already ten o'clock on the morning of August 8th—the time when the Central Meteorological Bureau had predicted the tsunami would strike the coastal regions—there was still no sign of it. The sky remained a clear, azure blue, devoid of the gloom that usually heralds a disaster.

"Stay sharp, everyone. The critical moment is upon us," Daoist Mufan announced in a ringing voice. He was the practitioner in charge of the Zhejiang coastline, accompanied by nearly a thousand others. The calm before the storm was so profound it was unsettling, and Mufan’s timely reminder was well-placed.

Suddenly, a gray gloom began to encroach from the distance. Floating in mid-air, Mufan peered into the horizon.

A moment later, he shouted, "It’s here! Prepare yourselves!" As his voice echoed, the practitioners noticed that the vast sea had turned increasingly murky, as if the dark clouds and the ocean had merged into a single, hazy line.

The sights preceding the storm confirmed that the tsunami had arrived with terrifying speed.

"One person every five hundred meters!" Mufan commanded. As a disciple of Qingxu, the head of the Yuxu Palace, he commanded great respect in the cultivation world, and the practitioners obeyed without hesitation. In moments, over a thousand cultivators stood in a line spaced five hundred meters apart, forming a human wall stretching nearly five hundred kilometers.

In a military base in Beijing, high-ranking officials watched the events unfold on a large screen divided into over a dozen segments. One window showed Daoist Mufan and his group along the Zhejiang coast, while others displayed similar scenes of various cultivation masters leading their followers to hold back the tide.

It was not just at the base; virtually everyone in China—whether at home or in temporary shelters—was glued to their television sets. In these extraordinary times, the importance of information was paramount.

Just as they were waiting anxiously for news, the screen suddenly flickered. The news feed from the state channel vanished, replaced by static. Some viewers, thinking their televisions had malfunctioned, were about to strike them when the image stabilized. It was no longer the news, but an unfamiliar interface.

A pale green background appeared, fading slightly as a loading bar materialized in the center. When the viewers read the tiny text on the right side of the bar, they were stunned: "Receiving signals from Beidou military satellites..."

What was this? Anyone with a basic knowledge of military affairs knew there were four major global navigation satellite systems: the American GPS, the European Galileo, the Russian GLONASS, and the Chinese Beidou system.

Experts had noted that while Galileo’s precision was ten times that of GPS, its development had been slowed by various factors. If GPS was known for its maturity and Galileo for its precision, GLONASS was valued for its anti-interference capabilities, while the strength of China's Beidou system lay in its interactivity and openness. These four systems had created a "four-way struggle" for dominance in satellite navigation, all deeply intertwined with military interests.

The appearance of the "Beidou military satellite" message led many to guess the truth. As they suspected, the military had overridden the local signals. It was a command from the central leadership; in the face of this catastrophe, national unity was essential. And what better opportunity to foster that unity than the emergence of the cultivation world?

Chinese Taoist myths were woven into the fabric of daily life. Even if one did not know many myths, the image of the lowest, most common immortal was deeply etched in the collective consciousness.

While practitioners were still a long way from reaching the level of true immortals, in the eyes of ordinary mortals, their supernatural abilities were already those of legends.

The progress bar reached 100%, and the screen shifted to show the gray, turbulent sea off the coast of Zhejiang. The tsunami had arrived, with massive waves dozens of meters high surging toward the coastline with unstoppable ferocity.

Suddenly, the viewers froze. They saw figures floating in mid-air! Because the practitioners were spaced five hundred meters apart, they would have been hard to spot without the close-up satellite footage, which highlighted the golden light of their magical artifacts and the glow of their formations.

Daoist Mufan took out his horsetail whisk; it hovered before him, glowing with a searing white light, its thousands of silver-like strands swirling.

"Immortals... there are truly immortals in this world..." the viewers whispered, their hearts shaken. The sight dealt a powerful blow to their deeply ingrained "atheist" worldview.

Mufan swiped his hand forward, chanting silently. A brilliant radiance erupted from before him and began to spread. As a disciple of Qingxu with cultivation at the mid-stage of the Integration Realm, his inner essence was stirred like boiling water, releasing streams of vapor. With a burst of energy, he unleashed thirty percent of his true essence. "Go!" he roared, and the radiance expanded, covering hundreds of meters in an instant.

The neighboring practitioners followed suit. Though their power was slightly less than Mufan’s, they were accomplished in their own right. As their light met Mufan’s, the two beams merged seamlessly, as if they were water blending with milk. Being composed of the same essence—the vital energy of heaven and earth—and channeled through the same techniques, they fused into a single, cohesive barrier.

The same process repeated along the entire five-hundred-kilometer human wall. Then, from the ends of the line, light arrived from other sectors, merging as well. This was happening all along the ten-thousand-kilometer coastline. Finally, a colossal barrier of light stood between the coastal cities and the monstrous waves.

As the last gaps closed, the practitioners sighed with relief. They were one step closer to success.

The television feed cut between different regions, from east to north to south. When the barrier stretched to include the island of Taiwan, the public erupted in excitement. A sense of trust blossomed in their hearts; they truly believed this barrier would hold back the surging tsunami.

The practitioners did not dare to relax. After forming the barrier, they tirelessly poured their inner essence into it, hoping to strengthen it against the onslaught.

Leng Bingyan was in the midst of refining her artifacts, unaware of the events outside. The practitioners did not want to worry her; only when she finished her work could the "Nine Provinces Barrier" be set, bringing true peace to the land of Huaxia.

*BOOM!*

The sky-covering wave slammed into the barrier, creating a deafening crash. The light flickered, causing the hearts of the viewers to tremble in fear that their hope might shatter.

But fortunately, after the massive wave passed, the barrier merely swayed and held firm.

However, Qingxu, who was positioned in the center, frowned. The power of the tsunami clearly exceeded their expectations. Despite all their calculations, they had underestimated it.

"Attention, fellow practitioners! Form the array immediately, or the barrier will surely break!" Qingxu’s voice, infused with true essence, traveled a thousand miles, reaching every cultivator.

"Senior, what formation shall we cast?" one asked.

After a moment of silence, Qingxu replied, "The Hun-Tian Soul-Locking National Array!"

The name echoed for miles, and the world went silent. A "National Array"—what a grand undertaking! Those who understood its nature were awestruck, while those who didn't were filled with a mix of curiosity and excitement, momentarily forgetting their fear.

Time seemed to freeze. A few moments later, twelve small red flags drifted into the air from various points along the thousands of kilometers of coast, released by the most powerful practitioners.

The Hun-Tian Soul-Locking National Array was a massive undertaking, capable of enveloping an entire nation. The twelve flags served as the twelve gates. It was originally a lethal formation—if one were trapped inside, finding the "Gate of Life" might allow an escape, while the "Gate of Death" meant certain doom. But here, the practitioners had adapted it into a protective, life-saving blessing.

Extremes meet; yin and yang coexist. Everything depends on the intention.

The twelve flags hovered in the sky, dividing into a thousand phantom banners. They multiplied again and again until countless tiny flags floated behind the barrier of light. The next moment, a unique, searing white radiance bloomed and began to merge with the existing barrier.

"Take your positions!" With that sharp command, the countless flags flared with brilliant light, then suddenly vanished, absorbing into the barrier of light.

"The Hun-Tian Soul-Locking National Array is complete!" As Qingxu’s voice rang out, the barrier thickened threefold. Wave after wave of the tsunami crashed against it, but it no longer budged. The feeling of being a fragile leaf in a storm vanished instantly.