“Om” — “Ma” — “Ni” — “Pad” — “Me” — “Hum”!

The sudden Buddhist chant shook every person’s flesh and blood into rhythm, their bones ringing and trembling, both ears buzzing loudly, their primordial spirits nearly bursting from their skulls, the Immortal Platform ringing with a grand sound of the Dao.

Four ancient characters — “Great Thunderclap Monastery” — were engraved upon a bronze plaque, radiating a supreme, sacred, and divine solemnity that brooked no defilement. The bronze was mottled with rust, yet it could not conceal its air of grandeur despite the ravages of time.

There was a sense of an ancient scroll yellowed with age, carrying within it the sorrow and solitude of countless eons.

This was actually the Great Thunderclap Monastery! Manifested because of the seed in Ye Fan’s hand — though it was but a wisp of a phantom image, it could rival the very heavens themselves, inspiring both reverence and awe.

The magnificent ancient structure stood beneath the setting sun, bathed in a layer of golden light, its weathered, time-worn grandeur radiant with sacred solemnity.

One truly felt as though transported there in person — it did not feel like an illusion at all, as if one had genuinely arrived at Mount Sumeru, standing before the ancient monastery, gazing upon the endless cycle of rebirth among all living beings, watching the Buddha enter nirvana.

The Buddhist chant sounded for only six syllables before falling silent again, returning to tranquility, leaving behind only a grand and expansive aura, making people unable to resist bowing in worship to the golden radiance of the setting sun upon that ancient temple.

“How strange — where did you get this seed from? Does it have something to do with the methods of that group of monks?” The Golden Lion, the Scorpion, and the others were all uneasy.

Along this ancient road, the methods of Amitabha Buddha still circulated to this day; all the various heroes revered and kept their distance, unwilling to entangle themselves in karma with the Buddhist path, lest the consequences prove unbearable.

“It’s the seed of another Buddha.” Ye Fan said.

This was the Bodhi Seed he had obtained before the Great Thunderclap Monastery on the ancient star of Yinghuo — it had accompanied him for many years now, having been of tremendous benefit to his comprehension of the Dao in his earlier days, and even now, strange phenomena had appeared once again here.

“Sakyamuni… Jin Chan Zi’s master?!”

Everyone gasped, for in recent years they had heard the name of that young sacred monk — his mystic power reaching to the heavens, traveling across the ancient roads of every clan, suppressing all heroes, undefeated to this day, unmatched under heaven.

When the Black Bear Saint and the others heard how Ye Fan had obtained the Bodhi Seed, they were all stunned — an ancient tree had turned entirely to ash, leaving behind only this single fruit. This was clearly — nirvana.

“This is the Buddhist path’s undying immortal medicine, once held by Amitabha Buddha, once planted upon Mount Sumeru, later drifted to a foreign ancient star.”

One of the Twelve Saints spoke up — well versed in this rare undying divine medicine of heaven and earth. A single glance at this seed told him it was without doubt formed from that ancient tree.

There might be countless Bodhi trees, but the true ancestral tree — the undying immortal medicine — existed as only a single specimen within the Buddhist path.

Ye Fan pondered. “There’s far too much that’s strange about this!”

This was Amitabha Buddha’s undying immortal medicine, appearing on the ancient star of Yinghuo, once held by Sakyamuni, and in the end the entire ancient tree had entered nirvana, with Ye Fan taking the seed that remained.

“This is an undying immortal medicine — Sakyamuni had no reason to abandon it!” Ye Fan was puzzled, his mind filled with questions.

Could it be that Sakyamuni was truly Amitabha Buddha’s demonic husk, standing in opposition to him — and thus abandoned the ancient Bodhi tree, taking a different path from orthodox Buddhism?

Or was it that the ancient Bodhi tree entered nirvana and, for the time being, could not be taken away, needing instead to reach great perfection upon the ancient star of Yinghuo?

Or perhaps, Sakyamuni stood opposed to the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha, and let the entire ancient Bodhi tree enter nirvana, dissolving everything of the past, to be reborn as a new immortal medicine?

Ye Fan’s head spun with many thoughts.

“The Buddhist path values karma above all else — never provoke it. One of my clan’s ancestors was converted by that faith.” The Golden Lion said.

There had once been an old lion who achieved great mastery of creation, of supreme divine skill, ranking among the Quasi-Emperors, who, simply from cultivating a certain Buddhist mystic power, inexplicably converted to that faith.

“That was a proud prodigy of my clan — he resolutely stepped into the Amitabha ancient star region and bowed before the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha, though the two had never met before that.” The Golden Lion said.

Everyone gasped — the Buddhist path’s mystic arts truly were too eerie; even a Quasi-Emperor had been converted, becoming a renowned Grand Elder Protector of that faith.

Everyone knew this was most likely the doing of the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha himself; otherwise there was no way that golden old lion would have stepped into foreign territory and submitted in reverence without ever having met him before.

“The Buddhist path has Nine Great Dharma-Protecting Seals — could the Fearless Lion Seal among them have been created by your ancestor?” Pang Bo asked.

“Indeed.” The Golden Lion answered.

Everyone gasped once more upon hearing this — it truly was frightening; even a Quasi-Emperor had left behind a glorious page in cultivation history, only to be converted in the end.

“Ye Zi, there’s something strange about this thing, it seems best not to touch it!” Pang Bo’s expression turned grave.

The Golden Lion and the Black Bear Saint agreed as well — the waters of the Buddhist path ran too deep; they should not entangle themselves in karma with them, or they would surely find themselves mired deeply in it later.

Ye Fan murmured to himself, “So many years have passed — the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha must have long since passed away sitting in meditation; he shouldn’t still be alive in this world.”

“But don’t forget, there’s still Sakyamuni — equally unfathomable. Don’t let yourself be schemed against by him.” Pang Bo warned solemnly.

Ye Fan opened his palm, the Bodhi seed resting in it, densely covered with intricate patterns, as though naturally formed, forming a set of markings — which turned out to be an image of Ye Fan himself.

Years ago, this had been a divine statue of Sakyamuni, which Ye Fan had ultimately refined, nurturing it with his heart until it finally became himself.

Now he clearly sensed something wasn’t right — only the outer shell had changed. The Bodhi seed still contained a trace of Buddha-nature within it, otherwise the Great Thunderclap wouldn’t have manifested here today.

“BOOM!”

Suddenly, a world-shattering sound rang out. The Great Thunderclap Monastery gradually receded, replaced by a scene of divine dynasties in battle, as if ancient gods of primordial times were locked in a decisive clash.

“This is…” Ye Fan was greatly startled — this was the very phantom scene he had witnessed back when he first returned to the ancient star of Yinghuo.

Yinghuo possessed a Sea Eye that had claimed the lives of countless sages; the ancient crocodile suppressed by Sakyamuni had once tried to enter it to steal immortal treasures.

Ye Fan had not only encountered the ancient crocodile there but had also met the old man-demon, and had witnessed that Sea Eye himself — it had swallowed everything from that ancient star’s past, a relic of a divine war, suspected to have involved ancient sage-emperors in the fighting.

“Hmm, could it be I’m overthinking this — that the ancient Bodhi divine tree remained there only to suppress the burial ground of the ancient star of Yinghuo?” Ye Fan murmured to himself.

“What Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha, what Sakyamuni — can they bite me? Now that I’ve got this immortal medicine seed, how could I possibly hand it back? It’s mine now!” Long Ma acted like a shameless rogue — good things, once obtained, weren’t to be given up, a principle he’d learned from the Black Emperor.

“Crack!”

Just then the Bodhi seed split open, a tender sprout emerging, an intensely powerful essence of life seeping out, making everyone feel as though they might ascend, their entire bodies beginning to glow in response.

“The Bodhi shell has cracked — the seed is about to take root and sprout!”

Was this the undying divine medicine? It contained within it an aura of immortality — that life-essence was so overwhelmingly powerful, surely capable of recreating life itself. No wonder it could allow an ancient Great Emperor to live out a second lifetime.

“Only at this moment has it reached completion, achieved nirvana successfully — just like that Qilin divine medicine seed, able to grow anew.”

Everyone sighed — this was an undying divine medicine, and now it had obtained new life.

Both the Qilin divine medicine and the Bodhi seed had, in the past, suffered calamity upon their mother plants, undergoing nirvana, and now both had simultaneously obtained new life.

“These are two divine medicines… what does this mean?!” Long Ma’s mouth was watering so much it was practically forming a small river.

Within the formation array, the Qilin divine medicine had already sprouted roots and a pair of leaves, entirely purple in color, rosy light flickering, crystal clear and translucent, now standing as tall as a palm.

The Qilin’s form was gradually taking shape as roots and stem; the fruit it would eventually bear would take on a Qilin’s shape, and even the brilliant purple leaves already bore Qilin patterns upon them, mysterious and unfathomable.

“There’s a will contained within it!” Pang Bo stared fixedly at the ancient Qilin medicine.

Speaking of great primordial divine medicines — strictly speaking, such immortal elixirs had existed since the age of myth. Everyone in this world would eventually die; only the undying divine medicines could endure forever.

In this span of time, only they could truly achieve eternal life.

“Every divine medicine possesses its own will — otherwise it couldn’t fly across heaven and earth, choosing its own soil to survive in, let alone undergo nirvana and be reborn.” Ye Fan said.

Truthfully speaking, the undying divine medicines were a living ancient history — who had lived longer than they had? Having once accompanied the ancient Great Emperors, they surely held knowledge of earth-shattering secrets.

Everyone present naturally felt their hearts stir — now that it had revived, no longer lifeless and still, it might be possible to probe into it.

However, when Ye Fan’s spiritual sense entered the Qilin divine medicine, it merely trembled timidly, a blank confusion — it held no memory whatsoever of the primordial age.

“I see — it has undergone nirvana, severing its ties to the past. This is its next life, and naturally it cannot remember what came before.” Ye Fan sighed softly, filled with regret.

Otherwise, perhaps he might have glimpsed secrets of the ancient Great Emperors, the primordial sovereigns, even the age of myth itself, from this undying medicine!

“This ancient medicine has lived from the age of myth to the present, truly achieving eternal life in this world. Every ancient Great Emperor has had one such immortal elixir accompanying him — does that mean it holds the greatest opportunity for attaining immortality?”

“There are rumors in this world that the undying medicines are connected to immortality itself — that by penetrating their secrets, one might be able to enter the Immortal Realm.” One of the Twelve Saints spoke — their backgrounds were no small matter; their ancestors were primordial exotic species, and they knew a great deal.

“Huh, wait — this Bodhi tree has gained another faint, indistinct will!” Ye Fan’s expression changed. Having finished probing the ancient Qilin medicine, he now went to probe the seed that had just taken root and sprouted.

It was merely a wisp, extremely faint, but stubbornly unremovable, nearly fused as one with this Bodhi seed. Ye Fan pondered — no wonder the Great Thunderclap Monastery and other visions had manifested; it must be this faint, weak will stirring things up.

Pang Bo, Long Ma, the Golden Lion, and the others also probed it one by one, and all their expressions changed. Was this truly Sakyamuni, or the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha? It left everyone chilled to the bone! This Bodhi seed was no simple thing — it still belonged to the Buddhist path, containing their will within it.

“Now we’re in real trouble — what do we do?” Even Long Ma, greedy as he was, found his head spinning.

“What can we do — since things have already come to this, we might as well take full possession of it and erase that will entirely!” Ye Fan said, sitting cross-legged there, exerting his full power. Yet no matter how many mystic arts he tried, no matter how hard he strove, he simply could not dissolve that seemingly faint, indistinct will.

“No good, it can’t be worn down, this will simply cannot be dissolved.” Pang Bo, sweat pouring from his brow, had unleashed even the Demon Emperor’s Nine Slashes to no avail.

“Just as I thought — things belonging to the Buddhist path really shouldn’t be touched. This could turn into a major problem, one that will bring great karmic trouble down the road!” The Golden Lion said, thinking of his own ancestor.

“Whether it’s Sakyamuni or the Great Emperor Amitabha Buddha, we can’t let it attach itself to this.” Ye Fan too was worried about future trouble. His eyes turned cold, gazing toward the depths of the Life Spring, toward the four dark-red slaying swords.

“You’re planning to…” The others were all startled.

“Use these four slaying swords to eliminate this will!” Ye Fan answered.

“Using the Four Immortal-Slaying Swords against a Buddhist Great Emperor — that’s actually a good idea, though let’s try not to get chopped up ourselves in the process.” Pang Bo grinned.

Ye Fan answered firmly, “I intend to comprehend the Dao beneath this Bodhi tree and create my own ancient scripture. I don’t want some unknown will attached to it, watching everything I do. It must be eliminated, or everything I’ve done before will be laid bare to it — sooner or later, it will become a great menace.”