Chapter Two: A Strange Encounter Underground

Wujue had no understanding of what the apocalypse meant; he only remembered that he was a martial monk devoted to upholding justice and eliminating evil.

He recalled that before arriving in this world, he had faced the greatest crisis of his life. Yes, at that time, the Great Forest Temple where he had been raised since childhood was on the brink of destruction. The tyrannical imperial court, having placed its faith in a demonic cult, had issued an order to eradicate their temple. The elders and martial monks fought desperately, carving a path through blood and fire, yet they could not prevent the destruction of the Great Forest Temple.

Wujue swore an oath to make the demonic cult pay for their crimes, to restore peace to the world and sweep away all evil. From then on, he set foot on an irreversible path, battling the cult’s devils in countless deadly encounters, until the final, climactic battle.

His fellow disciples had nearly all perished or been gravely wounded, and at last he confronted the cult’s grand demon. The foe unleashed sinister sorcery the likes of which Wujue had never seen, and the two fought for three days and nights, eventually tumbling together into the abyss beneath the cult’s sacred ground during their struggle.

When he awoke, everything had changed.

Jolted awake from his memories, Wujue found himself alive in a darkness so deep that he could not see his own hand before his face. This, then, was the apocalypse—the feeling of the end. How was it different from the Buddhist hell, save for a deeper, eerie tranquility?

He felt his own breath; astonishingly, he was still alive. But now, how could he escape?

Wujue cautiously groped around. Thankfully, the space was not too cramped, and he was able to stand unhindered. He felt his body; he was not seriously injured. Instinctively, he walked forward, and the space grew narrower.

Years of ascetic training had sharpened his senses; even in darkness, his vision was keener than most. Gathering his focus, he observed his surroundings. Gradually, he made out the scene: he was deep underground, somehow carried here by the collapse above.

Wujue tentatively moved forward, slowly covering a dozen yards before the passage suddenly opened up. Faint, strange lights glimmered ahead.

How odd—was there something else here?

Before his eyes lay a crystal coffin, shimmering with light. Inside rested a bizarre being, refracting an eerie green glow.

He did not know what kind of monster it was. Summoning his courage, Wujue approached, only to see that the creature in the coffin was humanoid, clad in fearsome armor, with an ugly and ghastly face. At that moment, it seemed to be breathing, its eyes half-open, unresponsive.

Wujue watched it warily. Suddenly, the creature’s eyes snapped wide open, fixing him with an intense stare, as if trying to communicate something. A sharp pain shot through Wujue’s head.

“What have you done to me?” he cried, clutching his forehead, feeling a mysterious force invading his mind.

Instinctively, he gathered his will to resist, chanting Buddhist sutras to dispel distracting thoughts. Yet the interference only grew stronger, until it became a clear voice speaking to him: “Stranger, do not resist. I need your help, and in return, you will help me be reborn.”

“Monster! You will not control me!” Enraged, Wujue struck out with the Great Forest Temple’s most powerful Vajra Palm, shattering the crystal coffin with a single blow.

A violent energy erupted from nowhere, an even mightier force surging from within the coffin. In an instant, Wujue was engulfed in chaos, unable to see what was happening before him, as an endless torrent of visions flooded his mind.

In that moment, the creature’s consciousness and power poured into Wujue’s body, filling his limbs and bones, as if he had been reborn in a single instant.

Strange memories surfaced in his mind. It turned out that the being was Huron, a martial saint of the Divine Warrior Clan, who had fled from a distant star system after their race was destroyed by a terrifying enemy. Now, that enemy had pursued them all the way to Earth, which was destined to be the next to fall. The only one who could stop them was Huron.

Wujue was stunned to realize that he had traveled hundreds of years into the future, into a world where the apocalypse had already come. This was no longer his era; the once-familiar martial world had vanished, and the Great Forest Temple was no more.

His only chance now was to inherit Huron’s power, to become the new martial saint, and turn the tide.

At that moment, the immense energy emanating from the crystal coffin continued to surge into Wujue, filling him with boundless vitality. Not only that, but his mind was assaulted by an unprecedented flood of experiences.

This was the wisdom of the Divine Warrior Clan, accumulated over tens of thousands of years—enough to grant a mere monk insights beyond imagination.

Gradually, Wujue ceased to resist, even recalling all he had learned in his life. The Great Forest Temple's profound teachings and seventy-three supreme techniques, outstanding as they were, seemed but trifles in the eyes of the Divine Warrior Clan.

Suddenly enlightened, Wujue felt his burden grow heavier, but also sensed that his strength was now greater than ever before.

A powerful urge welled up in his chest, and he could not help but let out a thunderous cry that echoed to the heavens.

With a sudden leap, Wujue soared into the air like a bird, breaking through all obstacles and bursting out onto the surface.

Hovering briefly, he looked down to see a landscape of utter misery—cries of sorrow everywhere, the ground collapsing, humans and beasts fleeing in terror. The source of this calamity was the monsters falling from the sky—a colossal creature loomed overhead, blotting out the heavens.

Countless black shadows descended from it, wreaking havoc everywhere. These hideous beings, reminiscent of the demons described in the Buddhist scriptures, were sowing chaos and slaughtering mortals.

Wujue was shocked to see that the humans killed by these monsters began to mutate, transforming within moments into similar creatures and turning on their own kind.

At this moment, only Wujue could stop them.

Drawing on the powers Huron had bestowed upon him, Wujue discovered he could now perform lightness skill, allowing him to glide briefly through the air. Though the duration was short, it was enough to hasten his rescue efforts.

He landed silently, then with a powerful kick shot forward like a leopard, rushing to confront a monster baring its bloody maw at him.

Instantly, Huron’s memories told him: these were low-level bioweapon zombies of the Celestial Executioners, feeding on flesh and blood, with a weakness in the head.

Without hesitation, Wujue grabbed a tree branch from the ground, executed the Great Forest Temple’s Finger Zen Art, and flicked the branch with a snap. It pierced the monster’s skull, splattering its brains as it collapsed.

Wujue let out a furious roar, feeling that with Huron’s gift, his cultivation could rise to even greater heights. In time, he believed he could break through the limits of humanity and reach a realm far beyond the martial path.

Yet at this moment, he felt no joy.

Facing thousands of monsters and a world in ruins, what choice did he have?

This chapter of Apocalypse Martial Saint 2: An Underground Encounter has ended.