Statues of golden-bodied Buddhas crumbled into oblivion, dreamlike and illusory, perfectly embodying the concept of “impermanence.” Nothing in this world can remain eternal and uncorrupted. Emotions are this way, humans are this way, immortals are this way, and even Buddhas are this way.
Without attaining the Dao, liberation remains impossible.
Multicolored glazed fragments scattered in all directions, while pale gold and dark golden light showered down like rain. Before Meng Qi’s eyes, the space turned hollow yet strikingly vivid—the sealed site resembled a colossal stone lotus, surrounded by the remnants of countless Buddhas encircling its core.
Meng Qi’s golden body radiated light, his right palm containing layers of pure land. Proceeding cautiously, he reached the heart of the seal.
“If I attain Bodhi…”
“Supreme True Buddha…”
A deep voice filled with strange allure echoed, like imprints left behind by centuries of repeated chanting.
Meng Qi halted, listened intently, and pieced the reverberating words into a complete message:
“If I attain Bodhi, then all Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Arhats, Vajras, and Wisdom Kings shall become my manifestations.”
“If I attain Bodhi, then across the three realms and ten directions, among myriad heavens and worlds, I alone shall be the Supreme True Buddha.”
Every word struck deep into Meng Qi’s heart, causing his mind to tremble. With the imminent climax of the Final Calamity and the ominous premonition of a tragic ending, anxiety and restlessness surged within him. A ruthless impulse arose—regardless of the consequences, he wanted to kill the self-aware projection of the Primordial Heavenly Lord, absorb its essence, and swiftly elevate his power.
Dong! Dong! Dong! He shook his head violently. His Buddha-nature pulsed, suppressing these dark thoughts. Though this place appeared pure, it oddly tempted one toward extremism and corruption!
Fixing his gaze, at the heart of the colossal stone lotus, he glimpsed flickers of the purest glazed Buddha-light—utterly exclusive, permitting no existence beyond itself.
“When something reaches its extreme, it nears demonic,” Meng Qi suddenly thought, unbidden.
To consider anything outside the “self” as heresy, demanding assimilation without reason—what else could this be, if not demonic?
Approaching nearer, Meng Qi’s heart trembled. Within the purest glazed Buddha light, he perceived a familiar karmic resonance.
Demon-Buddha A-nan!
Had he actually interacted with the monster sealed at the rear peak of Mount Ling?
Narrowing his eyes, Meng Qi—currently only the manifestation of “Zhen Ding Tathagata”—could not activate the myriad causal laws, yet through his subtle connection with the Demon-Buddha, he recognized the familiarity, identifying it as originating from A-nan.
“Ananda, the Buddha’s second disciple and future ruler of the Saha Pure Land, should have known about the sealing site at the rear peak of Mount Ling and what exactly was sealed inside…” Meng Qi pondered deeply.
What could have caused A-nan, a high monk who had severed many attachments and attained Arhatship, to retain one last clinging thought, ultimately descending into demonic?
Day after day, had he been influenced by the monster at the rear peak of Mount Ling, growing increasingly extreme, his lingering attachment intensifying?
Moreover, when A-nan reversed the practice of the Tathagata Palm to become a Demon-Buddha, he did not immediately cross to the other shore. Instead, he left his own Pure Land, vanishing without trace. When he reappeared, he had already attained the other shore. During that unaccounted time, had he come here and used the monster to break through?
More importantly, how had A-nan even conceived the idea of attempting to reverse the Tathagata Palm?
Meng Qi raised one hand to the sky and touched the ground with the other. His golden body radiated brilliance, crossing the pure glazed Buddha-light and stepping into the core of the seal.
…
The radiant light pulsed like breathing, expanding and contracting as it tightly encircled Qingqiu, Feixiang, and Luojia. With the combined power of three demon gods chanting incantations, even subduing the Golden-Banded Staff became an arduous task, revealing its immense strength.
Buzzing! The Spirit Mountain trembled slightly as the Golden-Banded Staff vibrated with radiant light, gradually shrinking before their eyes.
“It’s done!” Qingqiu cried joyfully.
Feixiang and Luojia relaxed slightly, feeling both relieved and delighted. Having heard of the great demon saints since childhood, they had long yearned for this meeting.
Meng Qi, engrossed in the vision and experiences of his “Zhen Ding Tathagata” manifestation, did not command his reclaimed Yellow Springs bones to interfere.
He already sensed it—success would not come so easily; turmoil was inevitable!
At that moment, Huiguang gasped again: “That darkness has deepened further…”
Instinctively looking upward, her gaze froze. Above, where thunder and blue lotuses once filled the sky, a vast pale golden palm, nearly flesh-colored, now dominated the heavens!
Petals showered from the heavens, glazed lights swirled, and Buddhist sutras resounded like thunder.
“If I attain Bodhi, then all Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Arhats, Vajras, and Wisdom Kings shall become my manifestations.”
The colossal Buddha’s hand descended, appearing to envelop the very peak of Ling Mountain within its grasp. Without any flourish, it simply pressed downward.
Meanwhile, halfway down the mountain, another pale golden palm descended, striking the remains of Jiaye. Its palm opened, revealing a mouth lined with forty teeth, exuding an eerie and bone-chilling aura.
“If I attain Bodhi, across the three realms and ten directions, among all heavens and worlds, I alone shall be the Supreme True Buddha.”
The deafening Buddhist chants shook the soul, rendering resistance inconceivable. Fortunately, the phoenix demon Huiguang had the Heaven and Earth Mysterious Yellow Exquisite Pagoda hovering above her, radiating streams of virtuous light to shield her, preventing her from becoming a wooden or clay puppet like Taili.
Clenching her jaw, she unfurled her wings. The patterns of the Five Virtues flared brilliantly, coalescing into a swirling black-and-white Taiji symbol and a profound violet Ruyi brimming with auspicious blessings. Alongside the Xuanyellow Exquisite Pagoda, they surged upward to intercept the descending palm strike.
At the same time, she raised her head and let out a melodious cry—a sound that made all birds bow. It pierced through the surrounding void, awakening Taili, Feixiang, and other demons.
The Dao Scroll stabilized all things, preventing chaos. The Ruyi of Blessings warded off calamities, allowing her to walk through death as if treading on level ground. The Merit Golden Pagoda withstood all assaults. These were the supreme defensive techniques of the Three Realms, seemingly impenetrable. Yet, when touched by the pale golden palm, the Profound Yellow light was tainted with killing intent. The Dao Scroll crumbled, blessings faltered, and the pagoda shattered—unable to resist even for a fleeting moment.
Spitting! Amidst the shattered remnants of the pagoda, the Taiji diagram, and the Ruyi scepter, Huiguang coughed up true phoenix blood, collapsing to the ground and carving out a massive crater. The sheer backlash had already inflicted severe injuries upon her, rendering her powerless as the palm strike descended.
This was merely a side strike aimed at Jiaye’s remains, and the attacker had not even revealed their true form, only extending a single hand.
Suddenly, five brilliant lights—red, cyan, yellow, white, and black—illuminated the heavens, encompassing all matter, sweeping toward the giant palm.
The massive palm hesitated momentarily within the divine radiance, as if being gently pushed aside, yet soon pulled the five-colored brilliance downward, like draping itself in a luminous mantle.
Bang! Taili turned pale but remained proudly upright.
Luojia shot beams from her eyes, blessed by fate and destiny. Yet beneath the palm strike, not even a ripple formed. Merely grazed by the palm’s wind, she lost divine favor, crashing into the mountaintop, struggling to rise. Feixiang’s expression darkened, revealing the Peng’s true form, intending to flee ten thousand miles in an instant.
But the palm covered the sky, forming its own world. Ten thousand miles away, it remained the same colossal palm.
Boom! The colossal Peng crashed down violently, shaking the Sacred Mountain. It lay there like a heap of rotten mud, its aura drastically diminished.
The radiant light faded, and the shrinking of the Golden-Banded Staff halted abruptly.
Qingqiu watched as the four demon gods were instantly defeated and wounded, her face turning pale. Then, summoning the Five Virtues, she raised her sacred demon spear.
Suddenly, darkness enveloped her. Before her loomed a terrifying skeleton, rivaling the Peng’s true form. Blackness swirled with white, deathless and endless, wrapped in yellow blood.
On the skeleton’s shoulder sat Su Meng, the Patriarch of the Yuxu Sect, dressed in azure robes, his temples streaked with gray. His handsome and mature face was serene in deep meditation, while above him hovered a chaotic yet auspicious cloud.
The dark cloud surged forward, a river of yellow blood churning, creating an unforgettable sight for demonic deities like Qingqiu, Luojia, and Huiguang. It morphed into a colossal hand, rising to clash with the Buddha’s palm.
Boom!
The heavens and earth trembled, Mount Ling seemed on the verge of collapse, fierce winds howled, and the blood-yellow and dark hand clashed with the Buddha-hand, frozen midair, surrounded by creaking, cracking sounds.
It had been stopped!
Such a terrifying monster had been halted!
Huiguang, Feixiang, and the other demon gods witnessed the skeleton’s feet deeply embedded into the mountaintop, while Patriarch Su Meng, dressed in blue robes, stood motionless.
When had he subdued the skeleton wielding the Yellow Springs technique?
Meanwhile, the Buddha-hand descended, colliding with Jiaye’s remains. Amid thunderous sound, the mountainside collapsed, forming another cliff.
Jiaye’s remains tumbled into the ravine, radiating boundless light that illuminated the entirety of Spirit Mountain.
…
Meng Qi entered the area bathed in pure, unadulterated Buddha-light. He saw traces of someone having meditated there. In a corner on the other side lay a translucent, crystalline “gem,” glowing with Bodhi-green light.
The gem felt strangely familiar to Meng Qi. Cautiously grasping it, he touched its surface, sensing pain, struggle, and guilt.
His mind thundered—he already understood what it was.
After descending into demonic, before attaining the other shore, Demon-Buddha A-nan had indeed come here. For reasons unknown, he shed a single tear—a tear containing all his remorse and suffering from his former good nature.
From that moment on, goodness ceased to exist, and evil thoughts flourished.
Guilt toward the demon saint, toward the Saha Pure Land—wave upon wave surged through Meng Qi’s heart. Suddenly, a long saber wreathed in purple lightning appeared in his hand.
The Absolute Saber had traveled from his main body to this manifestation, suddenly erupting with electric energy, absorbing the tear.
Upon entering A-nan’s good-natured consciousness, the Absolute Saber violently clashed with the Demon-Buddha’s imprint. Seizing this opportunity, the saber’s power surged, electromagnetic forces erupting, breaking through a layer of suppression with overwhelming force!
…
Atop Mount Ling, seated on the shoulder of the Yellow Springs Skeleton, Meng Qi reached into his sleeve with his right hand and once again drew out the Absolute Saber. It shimmered with a profound purple radiance, markedly different from before.
He raised it upward, gazing at the sky with closed eyes.
At that moment, beyond the Thirty-Third Heaven, in the Grotto Heaven Palace, an old Dao-robed figure raised his right hand, opening the alchemical furnace. A brilliant golden light burst forth.
Boom!
Suddenly, the sky above Spirit Mountain turned crimson, resembling a sea of flames or a blazing cloak. The Golden-Banded Staff, embedded at the mountain’s peak, violently broke free and transformed into a dragon, soaring into the heavens.
At that instant, a furry golden hand stretched forth from the flames, grasping the dragon—the Golden-Hooped Rod—and radiating an overwhelming presence that could shake the very foundations of the Spirit Mountain. A thunderous roar resounded:
“Fiend! Taste my old Sun’s staff strike!”
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