Chapter 1490: Eight Divisions

Blood splattered on Mount Sumeru. For countless years, this sacred and undefiled place had never been stained with blood, yet such an event occurred today. For Buddhism, this was inconceivable.

No one expected Ye Fan to be so decisive, directly drawing his sword and cleaving the young monk, turning him into a bloody pulp to die violently on Mount Sumeru.

This was absolutely a monumental disaster. Since ancient times, who would dare to do such a thing? Even if conflicts arose, no one would dare to brazenly slaughter a Buddhist disciple on Mount Sumeru like this!

"Amitabha..." The middle-aged monk halfway up the mountain chanted, his face filled with sorrow. He was reciting sutras for the deceased. A moment later, he suddenly looked up, two piercing beams of light shooting from his eyes as he shouted, "How dare you great demons disturb the pure land of Buddhism?"

A tremendous rumble shook heaven and earth, as if countless lightning bolts resonated. Mount Sumeru emitted immeasurable light, and the power of faith swept forth like a vast ocean, with tens of thousands of silver waterfalls cascading down. This was an ocean of spiritual power.

The power of faith, like an ocean and a blade, surged forth, its brilliance stretching tens of thousands of feet. Sacred and majestic, it cascaded down, striking forward.

"Do you think we are afraid of you?!" Dongfang Ye let out a long howl, his thick, disheveled hair flying wildly. He raised the wolf-tooth club in his hand and smashed it forward.

This weapon, previously damaged, was now repaired. It was a Great Saint artifact, immensely powerful, fierce, and domineering. It descended like a pillar supporting the heavens, rumbling loudly and causing chaos to surge.

With a violent shock, the ocean of faith ahead was obstructed, its path blocked. However, the supreme power of the wolf-tooth club, after advancing for dozens of miles, was also dissolved.

Finally, with a loud bang, ten thousand feet of lightning exploded, and heaven and earth shattered. The savage retreated several large steps, and the surging, endless power of faith also vanished.

Everyone gasped. This was Mount Sumeru, almost impregnable.

One must know that the savage was a Saint King, wielding a Great Saint artifact, yet he was completely blocked and unable to penetrate the power of faith invoked by a middle-aged monk.

One could imagine the immense power of this place.

If the leader of Mount Sumeru, or a peerless old monk from the Great Thunder Sound Temple at the summit, were to activate it, what a terrifying situation that would be?!

Buddhism was unfathomably profound; all its strength lay within Mount Sumeru.

"Who dares to trespass on my Buddhist pure land? Though my temple is compassionate, it cannot tolerate the disturbance of great demons of this world." A shout came from high above the gigantic, awe-inspiring mountain, which was tens of thousands of feet tall.

Buddhist powerhouses appeared. This time, dozens of Arhats emerged in succession, each having achieved a golden body with a halo of Buddhist light behind their heads, and each possessing a solemn and dignified appearance.

In the center stood an old monk, draped in a kasaya on which the sun, moon, and stars seemed to shimmer. His eyebrows were snow-white, and his face was covered in wrinkles. He looked down indifferently, emanating an aura of majesty.

"Monk, stop feigning ignorance. Release Huahua, or I will flatten Mount Sumeru with my horse!" Li Tian shouted.

As soon as these words were uttered, the dozens of Arhats behind the old monk could no longer remain calm. For countless years, who had dared to speak like this? What did they take Mount Sumeru for?!

"That child is destined to be with our Buddhist sect," the old monk said indifferently. "Guiding him to join and withdraw from the mortal world is a great blessing."

"You are rebelling, speaking nonsense with open eyes! Converting disciples, plotting for divine abilities—despicable and shameless! Yet you can say it so grandiosely? Are you Buddhas or demons?!" Li Tian rebuked loudly. He opened his mouth and spat out a crystal-clear furnace, which instantly enlarged.

Instantly, the Southern Ming Lihuo surged, the Vermillion Bird Divine Fire boiled, the Samadhi True Fire rolled, and the Five Elements Essence Fire swept forth. This was a cloud of fire, a blazing ocean, covering the sky and earth as it descended.

The Goddess Furnace ripped through heaven and earth, enlarging to the size of a giant mountain. Its entire body was crystal-clear and radiated auspicious light. It pressed down, carrying an endless fiery impact, attempting to break through Mount Sumeru.

"Buddhism possesses the virtue of cherishing life," the old monk said, "but you are demons, disrupting the world. Thus, we must resort to weapons to suppress you." With a soft shout, the dozens of Arhats behind him all moved, each emitting immeasurable Buddhist light and drawing upon endless power of faith to resist the Goddess Furnace.

This was a mighty collision. The Goddess Furnace was very powerful, but it was ultimately sent flying back, unable to penetrate.

Mount Sumeru was too sacred, like a vast Imperial artifact. With so much power of faith augmenting it, it was impervious to all spells and exerted endless oppressive force on the outside world.

"Monk, are you really not going to release my disciple?" Ye Fan sneered, revealing a mouthful of pearly white teeth, his killing intent fully exposed.

"In this life, he is destined to be a disciple of our Buddhist sect; his master-disciple bond with you has already been severed," the old monk said, staring at the dark red killing sword behind Ye Fan with extreme wariness.

"Then don't blame me for unleashing a massacre!" Ye Fan coldly shouted. If reason failed, then only a bloody battle, a charge up Mount Sumeru, remained.

"Amitabha, alas, alas. Benefactor, your malevolence is too strong; you need to cultivate your mind and learn to let go," the old monk advised earnestly, his face filled with compassion. "You must know that the sea of suffering has no bounds, but turning back leads to the shore."

"Let go? What a load of nonsense!" the Dragon Horse roared, like a clap of thunder, numbing everyone's ears. It added, "Utter hypocrisy."

The old monk on Mount Sumeru's expression froze, and the dozens of Arhats were even more stunned. Who was this? So vulgar, roaring at Mount Sumeru and uttering such foul language.

"If killing can stop war and bring peace to the world," the old monk continued to chant Buddhist names, "this old monk is willing to become a sinner; even if my hands are stained with blood, I will not shrink back. Amitabha, I hereby confess my sin to the Buddha."

Then he raised his head and chanted a mantra. The entire Mount Sumeru transformed; the silvery white holy light began to turn golden, and spiritual power surged, vast and unfathomable.

An immense pressure emanated, like a Great Emperor awakening. It vaguely targeted Ye Fan, resisting the dark red killing sword in his hand.

Mount Sumeru was incomparably powerful; this fluctuation of spiritual power actually intertwined with wisps of Emperor Qi, terrifyingly immense, attempting to immobilize the Killing Sword of Lingbao Heavenly Venerate.

Moreover, a spectral gate appeared on the mountain, as if connecting to another world, from which roars emanated. It seemed a group of primeval fierce beasts were about to emerge, unleashing a world-shaking aura.

"The Eight Legions emerge to protect Buddhism and suppress demons!" the old monk shouted.

A large black hole appeared on Mount Sumeru, from which wave after wave of powerful beings rushed out. All possessed strange forms, definitely not human: there were giant pythons, Yakshas, Asuras, Golden-winged Bird Gods... Each exuded a terrifying and mysterious aura!

"The Eight Legions!" Qi Luo's expression changed. They had encountered them before and suffered no small loss.

These were the Yakshas, Gandharvas, Asuras, Garudas, and other members of the Eight Legions. All were mysterious and powerful races who became protectors after submitting to Buddhism.

"Buddhism is indeed not to be trifled with," someone remarked. "These must all be rare powerhouses of ancient races, yet they were converted into followers and became enforcers."

Who says Buddhism is aloof from worldly affairs? These are all powerhouses, gathered together, forming a subversive force capable of sweeping across a region when they strike at a critical moment.

Ye Fan already had his sword in hand, pointing it at Mount Sumeru, but it seemed as if an ancient Emperor was truly awakening there, releasing an unparalleled and majestic force that resisted him.

On Mount Sumeru, the Eight Legions were very active. Each exuded monstrous murderous aura, rushing down the mountain like a rolling flood, and each was astonishingly powerful.

"They are all Saints, and there are many in each legion. How powerful a fighting force must the Eight Legions be?!" Ye Tong's expression changed.

A long howl came as the ancient Golden Roc beside Ye Fan flapped its wings, its golden feathers dazzling. It spread its wings and soared into the sky, swooping down towards the Golden-winged Bird Gods among the legions, launching a fierce decisive attack.

Boom! Its wings struck horizontally like clenched fists, immediately killing several golden birds. Blood splattered, and feathers flew.

"This seems to be a fist technique, its power so immense!" Yan Yixi murmured, and the people behind him were moved by the sight.

This was the Great Roc King Fist! It was a divine ability the ancient Golden Roc had comprehended under the Bodhi tree, while observing Ye Fan create the Heavenly Emperor Fist from his shoulder. Now, it was displayed, invincible wherever it went.

Splatter, splatter... Blood splattered, and divine feathers lay scattered. The Golden-winged Great Roc wielded its King Fist, killing all the bird gods cleanly and decisively.

Everyone was astonished, and the old monk on Mount Sumeru and the other Arhats also changed their expressions. This ancient Golden Roc had reached the Heavenly King realm and was on the verge of becoming a Great Saint, and its divine ability was simply too powerful!

Roars came from Mount Sumeru as many more golden bird gods rushed out from the spectral gate, completing the Eight Legions. This astonished Ye Tong and the others.

"These are not true bodies, nor the original Eight Legions, but manifestations formed from Mount Sumeru's spiritual power," the Divine Silkworm Princess said.

"Brothers, what are you waiting for? Follow me, chop down the Eight Legions, and ensure they can never appear again!" the Dragon Horse shouted loudly.

It took out an ancient stele inscribed with the words "Heavenly Soldiers." Along with the Nine-tailed Crocodile Dragon, Golden Lion, Black Bear Saint, and ten other Saint Kings, they activated it. Instantly, strong winds raged, a malevolent aura covered the sky and earth, figures were everywhere, and shouts of battle shook the heavens.

One hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers appeared out of thin air, rushing forward like wave after wave of dark clouds. After so many years of training and coordination, the Dragon Horse and its companions could truly unleash part of the divine power of the Heavenly Soldiers' ancient stele.

These one hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers and the Eight Legions' army were remarkably similar in effect: inexhaustible, boundless, and shaking the mortal world.

Flashing blades and sword shadows, a rain of blood, war drums like thunder, and magical artifacts filling the sky: this place was in great chaos, with deafening shouts of battle almost overturning heaven and earth.

By the end of the battle, the Eight Legions grew faint, and the one hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers also slowly faded, returning to the stone stele. Peace and quiet returned to the area.

Clearly, blood had splattered and killing intent had been rampant, yet all of it vanished.

"Amitabha, Benefactor, your obsession is too strong," the old monk advised earnestly, his face filled with sorrow. "You must know that the sea of suffering has no bounds, but turning back leads to the shore."

"Release my disciple," Ye Fan said calmly.

"Your master-disciple bond is over," the old monk said, pressing his palms together. "Life requires knowing how to let go; just turn and leave." He stared at the dark red long sword in Ye Fan's hand with extreme wariness.

"Monk, shut your mouth!" the Dragon Horse rebuked. Listening to the other party's mouth full of compassion, yet so false, it couldn't help but curse out loud, feeling there was no reasoning to be had.

"Is this what you mean by 'only Buddha and reason remain here'?" Ye Fan sneered, remarking, "Utterly empty!"

At this moment, he began to step forward, staring at the immeasurable Buddhist light of Mount Sumeru, advancing against immense pressure. Holding the dark red immortal sword, he pointed it at the old monk from afar, preparing to act.

"To stop conflict with killing is not my wish; it is a sin, a sin, Amitabha," the old monk chanted a mantra. "However, with great demons forcing my hand, this old monk must begin a massacre. I ask the Buddha to forgive my sin."

With a loud bang, immeasurable Buddhist light appeared behind him. He let out a great roar, shaking the earth and mountains, as the entire Mount Sumeru seemed to awaken, intending to suppress Ye Fan with the power of the entire Buddhist sect.