White lotuses fluttered like raindrops filling the sky, dreamlike as if the day of salvation had arrived. The pale hand gripping the massive bronze axe withdrew.
For the Golden Emperor, this was neither a success nor a failure—only an outcome that deviated from the future She had claimed. She needed to re-examine the profound mysteries of the “Cause of All Effects” in its perfected state and understand the terror of its fusion with the Primordial Unity Seal.
As for emotions like anger or frustration, they had never existed and would never arise. The grand tide remained under Her control. The stronger Gu Xiaosang became, the closer She herself would be to the Dao Fruit—until success was achieved. The current scene was but a trivial detail, like watching a butterfly struggle violently in a spider’s web, only to be bound tighter.
At this moment, the ocean of Buddha’s radiance and the golden bridge to the Other Shore in the heavens and earth had yet to fade. Around the Jade Void Palace, shadows loomed like the end of days, as if an epoch were collapsing—only to be repeatedly split apart by a purple light reminiscent of the world’s creation, revealing chaotic crimson darkness and crystalline Buddha radiance within.
The Supreme True Buddha, who had revealed hidden strength capable of corrupting all self-nature Dharma bodies of Buddhism, was now enveloped in a light of utmost purity, shimmering like rippling water, mirroring the resentment in its heart: another wasted effort. Not only had Maitreya been “absorbed” by Gu Xiaosang from the past, but even the “Medicine King Buddha” had become the “True Determination Tathagata,” manifested by the Primordial Heavenly Venerate Su Meng. Not a single Buddha had been “reclaimed.” If not for the Golden Emperor’s generosity in gifting the golden relic of Tang Sanzang beforehand, allowing the Supreme True Buddha to perfect its Other Shore realm, it would have been toyed with like a monkey.
Outside the Earthly Buddha Kingdom, atop the Green Lotus Banner of Radiance, the subdued Emperor Fu—whose imprint of Amitabha had been shaken by the Supreme True Buddha—remained stiff, like a puppet briefly deprived of its strings, struggling to regain its original will.
Just then, a blade light flashed behind it—fluid as water, elusive as wind, like the quietly flowing river of time.
In an instant, before any Other Shore existence could react, the blade light pierced through countless barriers and plunged into Emperor Fu’s body!
With a thunderous roar, the sky filled with shimmering ripples, as if the river of time had surged into towering waves, endlessly pouring from Emperor Fu’s Dao body, mingled with shattered yet dreamlike golden swastikas, dimming crystalline radiance, vanishing into emptiness in the blink of an eye.
In the span of a single thought, the Amitabha imprint within Emperor Fu was forcibly annihilated. Such divine power could truly be called immeasurable—even if not on par with Amitabha or the Heavenly Venerate of Virtue, it was comparable to the present-day Ancient Buddha of Bodhi, who lacked his three corpses!
“Heavenly Emperor…” The flawless full moon cast its serene glow as the Heaven-Slaying Axe, just withdrawn, descended upon the world once more.
The one who had ambushed Emperor Fu was none other than the Heavenly Emperor, who had remained mysteriously hidden all this time!
The supreme ruler who once dominated the ancient era had returned to the “stage,” announcing his comeback in such a manner!
“Burn!” “Devour!” “Ruin!” “Punish!” “Slay!” “Silence!” “Vanish!” “Freeze!” “Annihilate!” Nine Dao runes danced as the Heaven-Slaying Axe struck Emperor Fu’s head the moment it was swung, ignoring the rippling waves entirely.
Time rewound, space replayed—yet no matter how Emperor Fu evaded, the Heaven-Slaying Axe remained locked onto it.
Suddenly, a glimmer of light flashed in Emperor Fu’s eyes, profound and minute, as if containing all illusory rivers of the myriad realms. A mighty, terrifying, supreme aura surged into the heavens, piercing through the cosmos, causing the Nine Heavens to manifest layer by layer, hanging eternally in an unfathomable place!
The Heaven-Slaying Axe fell, cleaving through its body—yet everything dissolved into motes of light, merging into a river that flowed into nothingness, vanishing without a trace.
Amidst these changes and the Supreme True Buddha’s full suppression of the True Determination Tathagata, the Devil Buddha seized the chance to withdraw, fleeing into chaos with the Heavenly Dao monster in tow.
Its final gaze fell upon where Emperor Fu’s body had been, eyes brimming with seething dark flames.
Originally, with Han Guang’s warning, it had expected the Heavenly Emperor to take the bait and emerge early, thwarting Su Meng’s plans and trapping him in a three-sided siege by Other Shore existences. Yet who could have guessed the Heavenly Emperor would bide its time until the very end, refusing to act without absolute certainty?
It appeared that the lessons from the ancient times—when its edge had been too keen—had transformed the Heavenly Emperor, rendering it even more formidable!
Deep within the Netherworld’s abyss, amidst the ruins of the Nether Sea, the Devil Lord sat cross-legged, eyes half-lidded. As the battle among the Other Shore reached its peak, his eyes suddenly snapped open, his will sinking into a certain object.
Yet within his vision appeared another figure—wearing a cloud-patterned crown, clad in flowing robes, straw sandals on his feet, a silk sash at his waist, exuding an air of elegance and grace, bathed in a faint bloody glow. A dejected black hound trailed behind him, while in his hand, he held the Central Heaven and Earth Banner of Primordial Unity. A mocking smile played on his lips—this was none other than the True Lord of Purity and Source, Yang Jian.
Yang Jian grinned. “The Devil Lord has quite the refined taste.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” the Devil Lord replied, closing his eyes again as if his awakening had merely been startled by the Other Shore’s clash.
…
“Compassion, compassion. What is gained must be lost.”
Amitabha’s solemn voice echoed through heaven and earth. All anomalies, all fluctuations—vanished without a trace. Through the rewriting of history, not a single corner of the real world was destroyed, not a single life affected. Only white lotuses bloomed across the Earthly Buddha Kingdom, carrying a hint of the ultimate destination—the Vacuous Pure Land—leading former Luo Sect believers to accept that the two faiths were once one. In Changle City, the ever-smiling plump monk seated on a lotus throne had, two to three hundred years prior, transformed into the exquisite, ethereal, and solemn Gu Xiaosang, clad in a pristine white dress, wreathed in divine light.
In the Western Paradise, the Eight Treasures Merit Pool bubbled, coalescing into a golden-bodied Bodhisattva—round-faced, large-eared, with a cloth sack at his waist: Maitreya, reborn in Dharma form. Yet his past and present relics, his future vows, his perfected creation realm—all were lost.
Amitabha had attained the Dao early, yet his pursuit of emptiness through subtraction came late. Like the Primordial Heavenly Venerate and others, he had learned from the experiences of the Dao Ancestor and the Buddha, devising a method more suited to himself—one relatively more complete. Instead of directly manifesting Maitreya, he nurtured him, allowing him to inherit the past, future, and present relics, along with the vow to save all beings through the Earthly Buddha Kingdom. Only through certain secret methods did Maitreya become the product of his subtraction pursuit. Thus, even after Gu Xiaosang absorbed the descending Maitreya, his rebirth via the Eight Treasures Merit Pool did not affect the situation.
This was akin to Meng Qi—before he reached the Other Shore, had someone altered history to seize the Dao Unity Seal before him, he would no longer be the product of the Primordial Heavenly Venerate’s subtraction pursuit. Life, death, reincarnation—none would affect the Primordial Heavenly Venerate. But once he broke free from the sea of suffering, unifying past, present, and future, every moment of his existence would be himself—the product of the Primordial Heavenly Venerate’s subtraction pursuit, unalterable by devouring or seizing.
Maitreya stepped out of the Eight Treasures Merit Pool, sitting cross-legged, his expression a mix of relief and gloom. Amitabha had agreed to this exchange only because, at the final moment, he saw no hope of success. Yet to see centuries of effort reduced to nothing, with near-zero hope of reaching the Other Shore in this epoch—no mighty figure could remain calm in such a situation.
…
In the Kunlun Realm, within the Jade Void Palace.
Gu Xiaosang rested her chin on her hand, watching as the Three Treasures Ruyi returned to Meng Qi’s palm. She smiled. “What a pity. My husband almost gained another wife.”
The “White Lotus Holy Mother” she had manifested was a fusion of Buddhism and divinity—formed from the absorbed past and present relics of Maitreya, his future vows, and the aura of her own corpse, nurtured into a white lotus. It was neither a Buddhist nor a divine body, but a mindless avatar—hence her jest about Meng Qi nearly gaining another wife.
Meng Qi, unflappable and thick-skinned by now, replied, “Rest assured, your husband can manifest three pure forms.”
“But only for a brief time,” Gu Xiaosang murmured with a soft laugh, seemingly in good spirits after deviating from the Golden Emperor’s script.
After a while, she lazily asked, “Will my husband be visiting the Tushita Palace next?”
“Having kept this from Virtuous Uncle, I ought to pay him a visit now that matters are settled,” Meng Qi nodded lightly. “Moreover, as the epoch’s end draws nearer, though I’ve temporarily surpassed the Devil Buddha, he will grow stronger again as the apocalypse intensifies. Meanwhile, I’m further shackled by the Medicine King Buddha—my progress may not keep pace with his.”
“So Yang Jian remains in the Netherworld to prevent the Devil Buddha from secretly refining it and becoming the true Destroyer of Worlds, the symbol of the epoch’s end,” Gu Xiaosang remarked, not as a question but a statement.
Meng Qi gazed downward, toward the Netherworld. “If the Devil Buddha truly becomes the symbol of the epoch’s end—even if incomplete—he would reach Amitabha’s level of terror. We must be prepared.”
Yet such power would not belong to him inherently. Should another epoch follow, the Devil Buddha would inevitably fall from grace once more.
“Additionally, the Heavenly Emperor’s state is peculiar—choosing to occupy Emperor Fu’s body. I intend to return to the moment of the Heavenly Court’s fall and observe the scene of its transformation into the Blade of Time.” As he spoke, Meng Qi rose slowly, already arriving beyond the Thirty-Three Heavens.
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