Mount Sumeru, magnificent beyond compare, its peaks piercing into the vast, boundless universe, hazy mist flowing about it like an eternal immortal platform.
At its summit, temples stood, grand and majestic, their tiles gleaming with a purple-gold sheen as if cast from metal, an aura of sacred harmony permeating the air.
Before the Great Thunder Sound Temple, an ancient Buddha rose into the high heavens, its colossal form suffocating to behold, the power of a Great Emperor permeating the air, an oceanic wave of life-force surging forth.
All the sages knelt down, their very souls trembling. Facing this wave of power, they felt like ants gazing up at a giant dragon, deeply aware of their own insignificance and powerlessness.
“The Amitabha Great Emperor!”
Everyone was stunned, frozen like clay statues, their hearts surging with overwhelming shock — this was simply too astonishing!
Boundless Buddha-light bloomed, illuminating all ten directions, every strand of qi shocking the mortal world. The great Buddha, magnificent, its height beyond measure, countless zhang tall.
Every pore of its golden body flowed with Buddha-power, cascading down like a waterfall, submerging Mount Sumeru, turning this place into a vast ocean.
Sumeru’s pure land became a sea of Buddhist dharma, boundless compassion, boundless virtue and goodness, sweeping through the nine heavens in this moment, making everyone unable to resist the urge to kowtow in reverence — the sages felt this most deeply of all.
Across this vast land, this was a miracle!
Everyone gradually moved past their initial fear, settling into a state of peace, feeling a desire to convert to Buddhism, to never leave Mount Sumeru again, to escape the clamor of the mortal world, to spend their days beside an ancient Buddha and a solitary lamp forevermore.
A sense of compassion, a layer of dharma truth, spread outward in this way, guiding people toward goodness and the Buddhist path, as if enlightening them all at once, wishing to convert them to the Three Jewels.
This supreme, sacred aura shook the six directions and eight wildernesses. In that moment, all living beings across the entire Western Desert awoke with a start, gazing toward Mount Sumeru, kowtowing together.
The sages were shaken, the heroes knelt in reverence.
Those of profound cultivation felt fear; those slightly weaker could only admire and kowtow.
No one had imagined that the peaceful, tranquil Mount Sumeru would see so many great events unfold today — every single one worthy of being recorded in history.
“Is this real?” On Ye Fan’s side, the several imperial artifacts had already merged together earlier. Everyone stood in solemn vigilance — only under the protection of these imperial weapons could they avoid being overwhelmed by this atmosphere.
Even those as fierce as wild savages, as sinister as Li Tian, were left dumbfounded, cursing themselves repeatedly for jinxing it — whatever they said seemed to come true, and this was far too inauspicious.
The great Buddha’s face and head were blurred, shrouded in chaotic mist, not clearly visible, but it faintly resembled the statue of Amitabha Buddha enshrined in the temple.
Every other part of its golden body was equally dazzling, every inch of its skin equally terrifying, making people suspect that a single casual movement could tear apart the universe, collapsing an entire stellar region.
This was an incomparable display of might, pressing down so that the eternal heavens themselves rumbled and roared!
Time itself seemed to reverse. A great Dao scripture resounded, thundering and deafening, as if an ancient Buddha from time immemorial were preaching the dharma, spreading teachings across past and present, unceasing.
Was this the lingering will of a Great Emperor, or had he truly never died? At this moment, not to mention others, even Ye Fan and Princess Shencan had no certainty — this turn of events was utterly unpredictable.
They had accounted for imperial artifacts, formation patterns, power of faith — but who could have imagined there would also be a Great Emperor!
“Truly inauspicious. I heard a flock of crows cawing this morning, never imagining it would summon forth a dead monk,” Long Ma muttered to himself, still stubbornly refusing to admit defeat even now.
Ye Fan and the others fell silent, motionless. Whether to retreat or defend — there truly weren’t many options left. If this really was an Emperor, there would be no escape at all. The distant sages trembled with dread, their hearts filled with fear, uncertain what to do; many fell to their knees. The masses, utterly devout, pressed their foreheads to the ground, willing to kneel there for the rest of their lives.
This scene was bizarre indeed — harmonious Buddha-power flowing, dazzling light blooming, Mount Sumeru seeming almost divine, as if about to ascend to the immortal realm all at once, streak after streak of auspicious mist shooting outward.
Yet, after waiting a long time, the great Buddha did not move at all, remaining towering there, still releasing its vast, oceanic life-force wave, delivering compassion to save the world.
“Huh, that’s not right!”
“It’s like a statue — there’s no response at all.”
Among the Thirteen Great Bandits, the Undying Elder, Princess Shencan, and the others all focused their minds, releasing their own primordial qi, as if sensing something.
Ye Fan opened his Source Heaven Eye, observing as well. The Shencan Daoist took another swig of wine, narrowing his eyes slightly, staring unblinkingly at the Buddha atop Mount Sumeru.
“A golden dharma-form, imprinted momentarily as an illusion upon Mount Sumeru — it’s not his true body!”
In the end, they arrived at this shared conclusion together — this was not the true Amitabha Great Emperor. He had passed away and entered cessation over three hundred thousand years ago; it was impossible for him to manifest in this era.
Once they understood all this, everyone let out a long breath — they had truly been dumbfounded moments ago, since it went against all common sense; no one could live for so unimaginably long.
Even if a Buddhist Great Emperor possessed all manner of longevity techniques, using unconventional means to defy the passage of time, such manifestation should still have been impossible.
The source of it all was, naturally, that relic bead — radiant and crystalline, a sacred object left behind after the Buddha’s passing into cessation, a supreme treasure of the Buddhist faith.
Finally, the great Buddha vanished, dissolving into rays of light scattering down from the sky, sinking back into Mount Sumeru, returning into that massive relic bead.
It shimmered with five colors, crystalline and translucent, like a heart carved from a immortal diamond, containing within it a blurred, mysterious Buddha figure.
Ye Fan and the others exchanged glances. Though they had confirmed it was merely an illusion, they all agreed unanimously — this relic bead was extraordinary indeed!
Before the Great Thunder Sound Temple, flowing light and mist swirled, an aura of life permeating the air. The Great Peacock King’s head glowed, waves of Dao-sound accompanying the growth of bone, flesh and blood pulsing with life as well — she was reforming her true body.
Were it anyone else — not to mention a Great Sage, even a Quasi-Emperor struck by an imperial artifact would surely die, unable to survive. Yet with the aid of the relic bead, she suffered no lasting harm at all.
At this moment, her vital essence remained undamaged, her foundation unreduced. She revived directly, her qi and blood abundant, her dharma body exceptionally powerful, carrying an invincible air of standing at the very summit.
Everyone snapped awake as if from a dream; those who had knelt earlier now stood back up.
A weak, trembling sound rang out — from within that relic bead, a primordial spirit flew out as well, its light dim and faded. It was the old monk Moke — even he had survived.
Everyone recalled that in his final moment, he had used the relic bead to shield the space between his brows, transferring his spirit and soul, escaping disaster through this means.
“The Buddha’s nirvana, the relic bead represents the hope of life, carrying the power of nirvana — that is how they escaped the imperial artifact’s killing blow,” the Blind Old Man of the Thirteen Great Bandits sighed.
“Do we still attack?” Long Ma asked. Though he’d stubbornly refused to admit fault earlier, that too had been forced by circumstance — regardless, things had turned out this way, there was no other choice, yet his heart still prickled with unease, even now recalling it with a lingering trace of fear.
“Surround them!” Ye Fan said. The important figures present split up, arranging themselves in formation, each wielding an imperial artifact aimed at Mount Sumeru.
Four or five weapons of the ancient Great Emperors appeared together, unleashing a world-shaking pressure here — yet Ye Fan did not order an attack, because both sides were now extremely wary of each other.
“I’ll ask once more — will you release my disciple to return?” His voice rumbled, resounding through the heavens, shaking many nearby sages, leaving them unable to help but tremble in fear.
His sacred body surged with golden blood and qi, his aura piercing the heavens, the light in his eyes cold as a blade’s edge, striking terror into all who beheld it.
“He is a fruit of our Buddhist realm — he cannot be allowed to wander outside!” the Great Peacock Enlightened King said, her will unwavering, not the slightest hint of hesitation.
“Amitabha Buddha, virtuous, virtuous.” The old monk Moke’s primordial spirit had still suffered great harm — it would take decades, even a century, of recovery to return to its peak — yet he too made his position clear.
“That is not Amitabha’s true path. Didn’t you all drive that great demon down from the mountain back then — so why have you now abducted this kind of inheritor again?” Ji Ziyue spoke up.
“This flower bloomed in the past, blooms in the present, and shall bloom again in the future. This is a fruit of the Buddhist faith — it has nothing to do with you,” Moke said.
The Great Bandits were all men and women of strong temperament. Someone shouted, “I only know he is Ye Fan’s disciple, and yet he’s now being forcibly suppressed here on Mount Sumeru, made into a servile slave for conversion — what kind of reasoning is that? Taking ten thousand steps back, you’ve already obtained those inheritances — why won’t you release him down the mountain!”
“This dharma will not permit him to be taken down the mountain — he shall forever remain confined before this ancient monastery!” the old monk refused to yield.
“You truly won’t release him?!” Ye Fan’s voice turned icy cold, his expression turning harsh.
“Convert to our faith, dissolve his base nature, purge the worldly qi within him — from now on he shall transcend this world. This is a great merit. Benefactor, please turn back. Do not act against heaven’s will. Our Buddha is compassionate, saving only those with whom we share affinity.” Having just endured that disaster, Moke’s expression had instead grown calm, and these words truly enraged many present.
“Kill!” Ye Fan spoke only this single word. Buddhism preached compassion; he preached slaughter. Before Mount Sumeru, he made his decisive choice to strike.
Even knowing the depths of the Buddhist faith’s power, he felt no fear — without turning this place upside down, there would be no room to negotiate any terms at all.
Ye Fan swung his Slaughter Sword, slashing at Mount Sumeru, unleashing the power of the ultimate Dao to suppress it.
At the same time, the Void Imperial Mirror glowed, its crystalline surface casting forth a world-surpassing divine radiance, sweeping across Mount Sumeru, shattering the mist, causing the power of faith to boil.
On the other side, Princess Shencan, the Undying Elder, and others each summoned their nine-colored immortal robes and the Sky-Swallowing Demon Jar, launching a fierce assault, a large-scale offensive against Mount Sumeru.
Yet Mount Sumeru was no simple matter — the ancient Great Emperor’s formation array revived, shaking the eternal ages. The entire mountain body was densely covered in blazing, dazzling patterns, sealing the mountain completely.
Moreover, the power of faith was condensing into form, transforming into a colossal ancient Buddha, standing majestically there, immense beyond measure, looking down upon all living things.
The combination of these two defenses created an astonishing overall strength — as if an ancient Emperor had truly revived to guard this place!
“Is that Amitabha’s mental force seed?!” The Shencan Daoist opened his drunken eyes, shooting forth a sharp gleam, tossing aside his wine gourd, staring unblinkingly.
This great Buddha’s appearance was extremely bizarre, unimaginably powerful, as if an Emperor’s shadow had fused together with the formation array, terrifying beyond measure.
Ji Ziyue sighed softly — they had once witnessed the power of the Sage of Treasures’ formation diagram combined with his four Slaughter Swords, and now this place displayed a similarly wondrous effect. The Demon-Subduing Pestle rose and fell, joining into the fusion as well, terrifyingly powerful beyond compare.
At this moment, the entirety of the Great Thunder Sound Temple glowed, that relic bead scattering waves of light rain, showing signs of merging into the formation array as well.
It would be difficult to breach Mount Sumeru in a short time — this place was impregnable, with the Buddha’s imprint flowing through it!
Before long, everyone ceased their assault — mobilizing the imperial weapons consumed too much, and they could not continue indefinitely. They decided instead to besiege Mount Sumeru, sealing it off, cutting it off from the outside world.
The Great Peacock Enlightened King and Moke could not break out — they had more than enough strength to defend the mountain, but insufficient strength to attack outward; there had already been a bloody lesson learned earlier.
“I’ll go!” the Divine Knight stepped forward, walking directly up before Mount Sumeru. In an instant, his entire body blazed with dazzling light, erupting with a terrifying aura!