Chapter 1491: Sumeru's New Lord

With a thunderous roar, the power of faith surged on Mount Sumeru, and a miniature Mount Sumeru, entirely formed from spiritual power, appeared behind the monk.

Though described as miniature, it was still immensely vast compared to an ordinary mountain, towering into the clouds. It descended with crushing force, faster than any speed, majestic and terrifying.

Everyone's expression changed. This clearly demonstrated a supreme might, with wisps of imperial aura flowing down, profoundly shocking.

Furthermore, the mountain descended with such speed and immense size that its direct pressure caused the heavens and earth to crack, making it almost impossible to evade.

The Dragon Horse cursed vehemently, "That bald scoundrel is utterly hypocritical, spouting compassion just to buy time to forge this mountain! Damn him!"

Ye Fan moved, his entire being instantly erupting with brilliant light. He strode forward, standing on a golden formation—the Origin Heaven Divine Array, patterns he used to empower himself with magic power and vital energy.

A crimson glow flew up as the longsword in his hand shot out a dazzling immortal light, cleaving directly at the descending "miniature Mount Sumeru." Meanwhile, he continued to advance.

This was a genuine head-on confrontation, a battle of spirit, energy, and will; retreat was not an option.

The old monk was certainly not the leader of Mount Sumeru; if he caused such apprehension, then there would be no need for the subsequent battles.

Ye Fan's long preparations had elevated his magic power to its absolute zenith. Both sides launched their most powerful attacks, and when they collided, the cosmos itself seemed to crumble!

The mountain shattered, the sword light fractured. Between them, it was like tumultuous seas, as a terrifying and boundless collision unfolded.

Everyone paled. How truly terrifying Mount Sumeru was, to have blocked an Imperial Armament's strike. The immense and formidable power of faith was simply astonishing.

"Imperial aura permeates this place," the Divine Silkworm Taoist suddenly stated. "This spiritual power is a seed planted by Amitabha, and having been blessed by countless beings, it has become something defying the heavens!"

Everyone was startled by this revelation.

The Divine Silkworm Taoist, tipsy and disheveled with a wine gourd in hand, had spoken for the first time in front of others.

"The Western Desert truly runs deep," Qi Luo murmured to himself, "I wonder what terrifying arrangements Amitabha left on this mountain." Everyone's hearts sank.

"The sea of suffering is boundless; turn back, and the shore is at hand," the old monk stated serenely, standing halfway up the mountain. The monastery behind him radiated brilliantly, making him appear sacred and peaceful.

Ye Fan snorted coldly. This time, he charged directly forward, his killing sword vibrating violently. He unleashed four consecutive sword strikes, surging with divine power, all landing on Mount Sumeru.

"Benefactor, you are truly deluded," the old monk recited. "As it is said, who in life can always sing praises? There must be give and take. Amitabha." As he spoke, another Mount Sumeru, forged from spiritual power, rose behind him and pressed forward.

From behind, everyone gritted their teeth. This hypocrisy was even more detestable than outright villainy. The Dragon Horse seethed with hatred, wishing to crush him into sixteen pieces with a single hoof, leaving his face utterly obliterated.

Ye Fan sneered continuously. This time, his sword energy was exceptionally potent, four streams merging into one, carving a path open. He was actually going to charge up Mount Sumeru.

"No!" cried the people behind him.

The old monk smiled. Around him, an ocean of spiritual power surged, dazzling and brilliant. The spiritual power revived, and he nearly merged with the entire Mount Sumeru, controlling boundless, ultimate power.

Ten thousand sword beams clashed with the power of faith, churning like overturned rivers and seas. The entire cosmos was devastated, an utterly terrifying sight. Sword energy and the power of faith surged into the highest heavens, causing even the stars beyond their domain to tremble.

At this very moment, Ye Fan moved silently and swiftly. Above his head floated the Cauldron of Myriad Things Mother Qi, its mouth facing downwards, pouring out cascades of light like the Milky Way.

Boom!

A third power emerged here, incomparably strong and terrifying. It was also the power of faith, but it was incompatible with that of Mount Sumeru. When the two met, they burned fiercely, devouring each other.

In just an instant, a vacuum appeared before them, carving out a path.

The monk's expression changed, as Ye Fan rushed towards him like lightning, his immortal sword vibrating, cleaving through the sea of spiritual power and directly closing in.

The emergence of the third power instantly shattered the balance. Ye Fan closed in to a certain distance, his sword trembling as he prepared to strike the monk down.

In this process, his expenditure was immense; the cauldron's accumulated power of many years was almost depleted in an instant, utterly incomparable to Mount Sumeru's vast power of faith.

Ye Fan did not attempt to ascend Mount Sumeru, as it was a veritable dragon's pool and tiger's den, utterly impenetrable. Even if the spiritual power in his cauldron were a hundred or a thousand times greater, it would still be far from enough.

However, he closed in, right beside the colossal mountain. The power of faith had disrupted the previous balance, and though the opportunity was momentary, for Ye Fan, who excelled at seizing combat opportunities, it was more than enough.

Sword energy tore through the sky, erupting with dazzling light. Although most of it was negated, a single wisp still struck the monk's body. With a sickening *thump*, his head rolled off, and blood spurted like a torrent.

"No!" cried the old monk, unable to believe what had happened.

He was standing halfway up Mount Sumeru, yet he was cut down. This was truly terrifying; a momentary vulnerability had been seized, costing him his life.

"Ah..." He only managed one final scream before his body exploded into a mist of blood.

Ye Fan's body swayed as he employed the "Movement" secret art. As the overwhelming power of faith retaliated, he decisively retreated, simultaneously slashing with his killing sword to obstruct the spiritual power.

"Master!" "Ancient Buddha!"

On the mountainside, dozens of Arhats cried out, but it changed nothing. The old monk had been reduced to a pool of blood, his form and spirit utterly annihilated.

"Good riddance! That bald scoundrel, full of talk about benevolence and righteousness, was excessively hypocritical and deserved to be cut down with a single sword!" the Dragon Horse cheered heartily.

Ye Fan retreated and examined the Cauldron of Myriad Things Mother Qi. The spiritual power accumulated over many years was almost entirely depleted; against Mount Sumeru, it had simply melted into nothingness in mere seconds.

"This mountain holds great terror!" Ye Fan sighed softly. Fortunately, he had always disregarded the power of faith and never intended to refine it into his body, so using it as a test this time caused him no heartache.

"Dong..." A solemn bell toll echoed, and the light from the entire Mount Sumeru suddenly intensified many times over. It was like a mythical Pure Land, almost suffocating in its brilliance.

On the mountaintop, Buddhist light shone everywhere, illuminating all ten directions and lighting up the entire vast Western Desert.

Ye Fan and the others retreated, then ascended, flying steadily upwards until they were level with the mountaintop, from where they looked ahead.

On the mountaintop, an ancient temple stood, magnificent, archaic, and grand, truly spectacular. It resembled an immortal celestial palace, its tiles and roof ridges bathed in a sacred glow.

A rusted copper plaque hung on the central ancient temple. Several characters were carved upon it, strong and vigorous like iron strokes and silver hooks: "Great Thunderclap Temple."

Everyone frowned. Leaving aside all else, this copper plaque alone was extraordinary. It had been nourished by imperial aura, and even now, a terrifying fluctuation emanated from it!

A massive bell tolled, its deafening sound echoing slowly. Its enormous body hung behind the Great Thunderclap Temple, bathed in Buddhist light and enveloped by imperial aura.

"It's not an Imperial Armament," someone commented, "but many things here were used by Amitabha, or even personally refined by him. They are terrifying beyond imagination."

Everyone sighed softly, realizing that Mount Sumeru would be incredibly difficult to assault; even with Imperial Armaments, resistance might prove futile.

At this moment, the great bell ceased its trembling. The summit of Mount Sumeru became utterly peaceful, with waves of Buddhist chants sounding as if all the Bodhisattvas and Buddhas were singing in harmony.

In front of the Great Thunderclap Temple stood a withered tree, its branches extending like coiling dragons, shrouded in profound mystery.

"The Bodhi Immortal Tree!"

Ye Fan's heart stirred with recognition, then he understood. This was the previous incarnation of the Bodhi Tree; unlike other immortal medicines, each time it underwent nirvana and rebirth, leaving its old withered body behind to regenerate a new seed.

The continuous Buddhist chanting made the entire Mount Sumeru temple appear incredibly solemn, sacred, and pure. Spiritual power permeated the air, coexisting with all beings.

Purple-gold tiles adorned magnificent temples, shimmering with a metallic luster amidst faint purple hues, making the place appear even more mysterious and unfathomable. At a glance, its aura was grand and majestic.

"Amitabha, how truly good," an ancient Buddhist chant resonated from within the Great Thunderclap Temple.

Then, the great doors opened, revealing numerous golden-bodied Arhats, each with Buddhist light emanating from behind their heads, sacred and dignified. Following them were the Guardian Vajras, including the four most renowned positions, all of which had inexplicably been inherited in this generation.

The Vajra of Dispensing Dharma, the Vajra of Supreme Victory, the Vajra of Great Might, and the Vajra of Eternal Abode—each was more solemn than the last, permeated with Buddhist aura. All four were immensely tall and incredibly imposing.

Behind them were the Buddhist protector deities, most famously the Four Heavenly Kings: Dhritarashtra of the East, Virudhaka of the South, Virupaksha of the West, and Vaishravana of the North. Each glared fiercely, supremely divine and sacred.

The hearts of the people from Celestial Village sank. The Buddhist foundation was simply too profound; it was astonishing that individuals holding such significant positions had all appeared.

Following them were the Bodhisattvas and Ancient Buddhas. This was somewhat fortunate, as there were only a few in total, incomparable to the vast numbers present in ancient times.

Legend held that in the era when Amitabha the Great Emperor lived, Bodhisattvas and Ancient Buddhas were numerous. They sat cross-legged across the heavens, their Buddhist light illuminating hundreds of millions of miles, truly supreme throughout heaven and earth.

However, before everyone's hearts could fully settle, they sank once more. An old monk had emerged from the Great Thunderclap Temple, clearly a Great Saint!

This was an Ancient Buddha. Although his aura was restrained, he still exuded an imposing pressure. Unlike other monks with gleaming heads, he had sparse, yellow hair like wild grass. His face was deeply wrinkled, like a dried orange, and he appeared incredibly ancient, his body withered, yet the vital energy concealed within him was alarming.

"It's him, Mahakasyapa, the Great Ancient Buddha! You're still alive!" The Divine Silkworm Princess's eyes immediately flared open.

"Amitabha," the old monk with sparse yellow hair said, bringing his palms together with a sorrowful expression. "This old monk's cultivation is not yet complete, so I cannot enter nirvana. I can only cling to life, continuing to remain in this world."

In the past, the Victorious Fighting Buddha once had a fierce battle with him, ultimately suppressing him beneath Mount Sumeru. To think he was now free!

"As expected, you were behind all of this," the Divine Silkworm Princess said, her eyes turning icy.

"This poor monk is empty of the four great elements; I do not understand what Benefactor means," Mahakasyapa the Ancient Buddha replied with a benevolent expression, calm and composed.

Clang!

In that instant, the Divine Silkworm Princess's entire body radiated nine types of immortal light, accompanied by incessant clanging sounds. Piece after piece of armor covered her graceful form, unleashing the aura of an ancient Great Emperor. Many felt their legs give way, almost collapsing on the spot, and even Mount Sumeru itself trembled.

The Ancient Emperor Battle Armor!

This was the immortal garment of the Ancient Emperor from Divine Silkworm Ridge, who had undergone ten transformations and ultimately became invincible throughout heaven and earth.

At this moment, the Divine Silkworm Princess was dazzling, her entire body flowing with precious radiance. She appeared like a heroic female war god, permeated by the Great Emperor's aura, utterly terrifying and overwhelming.

Even Saints trembled before her; it was an irresistible aura.

On Mount Sumeru, many golden-bodied Arhats trembled, unable to bear the pressure. However, after Mahakasyapa the Ancient Buddha uttered a Buddhist chant, everything stabilized. In his right hand, a precious vajra appeared, flowing with purple-gold luster and revealing an aura capable of suppressing all ages.

This was a Demon-Subduing Vajra, a weapon personally refined by Amitabha the Great Emperor!

This Imperial Armament had now inexplicably fallen into Mahakasyapa's hands—there could be no worse news.

*Tap, creak...*

Powerful and rhythmic footsteps echoed as another person emerged from the Great Thunderclap Temple. Upon seeing this individual, all the Arhats, Vajras, Bodhisattvas, and Ancient Buddhas paid their respects.

Even Mahakasyapa the Great Saint, wielding the Imperial Armament, showed profound reverence to this individual, performing a half-master's salute.