The sacred beast of the ancient monk lineage—this creature had an immense origin, a master among masters. Otherwise, how could it have been revered as the Guardian Saint Beast of the sect?
And yet, it had been hanged here, just like that!
Shi Hao’s expression shifted as he stared at the withered tree. The Golden Lion, even more alert, sensed an extraordinary danger and watched warily.
The number of corpses hanging from this tree was far too many—all suspended there, dried out over the endless passage of time. Countless branches of the colossal tree bore the same sight, a truly terrifying spectacle.
Next, the Golden Lion’s scalp prickled with dread, its fur standing on end. It felt both fury and fear as it laid eyes on another massive creature.
This being also belonged to the Guardian Saint Beasts of the ancient monk lineage, renowned throughout the world for its ferocious combat prowess!
It was a lion—one of its own kind, a Fearless Lion!
The ancient lion’s body was as large as a small mountain, its skeleton thick and imposing. Yet compared to the withered tree, it no longer seemed so grand. Its form had long shriveled, its golden fur dulled, skin clinging to bones as it hung from the tree, strangled by a branch around its neck. Its death was more tragic than any other creature’s.
“My ancestor?!” The Golden Lion roared in fury, wanting to charge forward and retrieve the ancient lion’s remains.
“Don’t act recklessly. If you want to die, I’ll kill you myself—don’t drag me into it,” Shi Hao stopped it coldly.
“In the past, one of my ancestors vanished. He was once peerlessly powerful… yet he died here!” The lion was agitated, seething with indignation and rage.
“Good riddance. Traitors who betrayed the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths deserve execution,” Shi Hao said bluntly.
The Golden Lion nearly lost control, but unfortunately, it had encountered the unyielding Shi Hao—inviting suffering upon itself. In the end, battered and bruised, it lowered its proud head in resignation.
After careful observation, Shi Hao concluded that this towering ancient tree resembled a massive graveyard, adorned with countless corpses.
Among them, some had died in agony, strangled alive, their souls lost.
He strongly suspected that the blood-soaked swamp beneath was formed from the remains of these creatures.
“Could this tree be… the legendary Bodhi Ancient Tree?” The Golden Lion, upon closer inspection, arrived at a shocking conclusion.
The ancient monk lineage once possessed a sacred tree named Bodhi, endowed with miraculous power. Meditating beneath it made enlightenment far easier.
But in the past, that tree had been lush and vibrant, radiating sacred light that pierced the heavens—utterly different from this withered husk.
The Bodhi Tree of the ancient monk lineage? Shi Hao stroked his chin, deep in thought. Why was this tree pitch-black? What calamity had befallen it? It couldn’t have been mere lightning.
“Was it corrupted, undergoing a drastic transformation, losing its divinity and gaining dark attributes?” the Golden Lion muttered to itself.
It wasn’t explaining to Shi Hao—it was voicing its own doubts, trying to make sense of the mystery.
In the past, when their lineage betrayed the Nine Heavens, their ancient ancestor fled to the foreign realm, never forgetting one obsession—obtaining the Bodhi Ancient Tree.
Because this tree was too extraordinary, offering immense benefits to cultivation. It was said that the Immortal Monk King might have achieved enlightenment through it!
Yet when chaos engulfed the world, that ancestor sent a descendant to seek the tree—only for that lion to vanish without a trace.
Now, it was clear—it had been hanged here.
“The tree is entirely black. Could it have been nourished by the blood below, eroding its divinity?” the Golden Lion mused.
Shi Hao also believed that some catastrophe must have occurred in the past, reducing the once-sacred monk’s treasure to this state.
“They say meditating beneath this ancient tree yields unexpected results. Don’t you want to try?” the Golden Lion goaded Shi Hao.
“Fair point,” Shi Hao nodded, showing no fear.
Uncertain if he was serious, the Golden Lion added fuel: “Rumor has it this tree was the ultimate treasure of the ancient monk lineage. Its body may contain imprints of the sect’s legacy teachings!”
“Then I’ll give you a chance—meditate here and comprehend the Eighteen Buddha Palms for me,” Shi Hao declared.
The Golden Lion opened its mouth to refuse, but Shi Hao shot it a cold glare. “If you don’t, I might just kill you. My mount must be strong.”
Faced with such a brute, the lion fumed but relented. It had never been threatened like this by a peer—humiliating.
Shi Hao made no secret of his intent to kill it.
With a grim expression, the Golden Lion calmed itself beneath the tree. Though it had schemed to lure Shi Hao, this was also something it had wanted yet feared to attempt.
Now forced, it steeled itself and began.
After all, this tree did possess inexplicable power—a treasure for enlightenment.
“Ah—!” But almost immediately, the lion screamed, clutching its head with its massive claws, rolling on the ground, blood staining its fur.
Shi Hao dismounted, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
The Golden Lion’s face was ashen, a crack splitting its brow. It took a long time to recover. “The tree is tainted.”
Shi Hao sealed the lion’s movements completely, rendering it immobile.
Then, he sat beneath the Bodhi Tree himself, cautiously seeking enlightenment.
**Boom!**
From the very start, Shi Hao faced a terrifying assault. Had he not been prepared, it would have been worse.
A wave of slaughterous energy, like tangible blades, surged into his mind with overwhelming force!
Blood trickled from Shi Hao’s brow, but he endured.
Faintly, he saw a vast battlefield—countless experts clashing, war cries shaking the heavens, blood raining down into this land.
The tree bathed in this blood, steeped in killing intent, until it turned crimson!
These images burned vividly in Shi Hao’s mind. Was this why the Bodhi Tree had withered?
But it wasn’t so simple. Soon, he saw beings watering the tree with a vessel full of radiant blood.
**Divine blood nourishing the tree!**
Who would do this?
This would eventually corrupt the sacred tree into a demonic entity. Someone had gone to great lengths to force its transformation.
**”Roar!”**
A deafening roar echoed in Shi Hao’s mind—a Golden Lion’s cry, nearly splitting his skull, causing more blood to seep from his brow.
**”Awoo—!”** Next, a colossal white elephant filled the sky, its trumpeting shaking his soul.
These killing intents emanated from the tree itself. No wonder the Golden Lion had collapsed. Even Shi Hao barely held on—the tree’s murderous aura was overwhelming.
Just a brief contact had summoned visions of two Guardian Saint Beasts from the ancient monk lineage. Terrifying.
Then, the tree’s demonic nature intensified. Faintly, Shi Hao heard the sound of a wooden fish being struck, threatening to shatter his soul.
He saw a bloodstained hand striking a dark-red, gore-smeared wooden fish.
“A sacred tree of enlightenment, yet manifesting such horrors—has it truly turned demonic?” Shi Hao muttered, fighting to stay lucid.
His body swayed, on the verge of collapsing into the bloody swamp.
Then, a vision arose in his mind—a massive, blood-drenched temple. Once holy, now every tile, brick, and pillar was stained crimson.
Yet within this gruesome temple, voices chanted scriptures, deafening and oppressive.
Listening closely, it was a demonic sutra—luring one toward corruption, urging a plunge into a black abyss.
“What madness is this?” Shi Hao spat blood. A once-sacred temple now preached demonic teachings—absurd and horrifying.
“Blood Bodhi… This sacred tree was indeed nourished by blood, turning into a demonic entity. If it ever regrows leaves, they’ll be utterly different,” the Golden Lion murmured, trembling with awe.
This matched ancient legends—if the Bodhi Tree was watered with the blood of supreme beings, it might reveal an unknown aspect.
And the Golden Lion was witnessing it firsthand. Someone had truly done this.
Without a doubt, this supreme treasure had become a Blood Bodhi!
“But its imprints should remain, preserving the ancient monk lineage’s legacy,” the Golden Lion mused, eyes gleaming.
Shi Hao persisted. Even if the tree had turned demonic, he feared nothing—treating it as a whetstone to temper himself.
Visions of the past surfaced. He seemed to traverse the grand hall of the ancient monk lineage’s highest temple, heading toward the scripture repository.
He sought to study the texts, to comprehend the great Dao here.
But this was perilous. One misstep, and he might be assimilated by the demonic tree, falling into darkness.
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