Chapter 944: Road Ends See Shakyamuni

Ancient and rugged mountains loomed, an air of desolation sweeping over Ye Fan and his companions. They felt as if they had traveled back to primeval times, to an untamed wilderness.

In the distance, colossal mountains, tens of thousands of feet high, rose majestically. Ancient trees obscured the sun, and strange creatures dwelled within. As they drew closer, eagles shrieked across the sky and beasts roared through the land, their thunderous sounds deafening and terrifying.

They had no idea where they were. Looking around, they found themselves in an entirely new environment, as if they had left Earth and entered a primal world.

"Where exactly have we come to?" the expert in ancient Sanskrit asked, a little breathless. He wasn't a true cultivator yet; his Sea of Suffering hadn't truly awakened, making him only slightly stronger than an ordinary person. He felt uneasy.

"We are likely nearing Spirit Mountain," a Venerable Master said. "Perhaps we can encounter ancient Bodhisattvas and all the Victorious Buddhas."

An ancient path lay beneath their feet, the only thing that brought them a sense of peace. Following it, they encountered Buddhist traces along the way at regular intervals. Some of these ancient Sanskrit characters were even carved by beings of immense power, radiating light and imbued with the essence of the Dao. Meditating upon them could reveal the principles of the Dao within.

Ye Fan remained calm, showing no particular reaction. The other venerable ones, however, were extremely excited, observing intently, hoping to comprehend Buddhist teachings. To quicken their journey, they attempted to use spells to accelerate their progress, but realized this was wrong. The ancient path began to blur, on the verge of disappearing.

"To find Spirit Mountain, one must approach with a devout heart," Ximoti said, reciting Buddhist prayers and seeking the Buddha's forgiveness. "Otherwise, we can never reach it. We must proceed step by step."

Ye Fan frowned. Could there truly be ancient Buddhas and Bodhisattvas ahead? The fact that the path only appeared when they walked it was very strange. "This is the work of immense Dharma, vast and unfathomable. Spirit Mountain is truly an extraordinary place!" After walking for a long time, he finally discerned a clue: inexplicable Dao patterns and principles were in operation.

After advancing over a hundred miles, they came upon a desolate area. Beside the ancient path lay ruins, and chilling wails emanated from them, sending shivers down their spines. It was truly eerie. A temple complex had turned into a wasteland, with crumbling walls and overgrown weeds. All Buddha-nature had vanished from this place, replaced by waves of oppressive Yin energy.

The wailing intensified, drawing closer with lightning speed. In the blink of an eye, it lunged at them, like a malevolent ghost seeking a life. However, the small stone Buddha in Ye Fan's hand radiated Buddhist light. The sinister shadow dared not come too close, darting left and right, appearing and disappearing incredibly quickly across the landscape. Ximoti, the two elderly monks, and the four Venerable Masters all blanched. This speed was far beyond their own, something they couldn't possibly contend with. Seeing Ye Fan's unchanging, calm expression, they finally felt reassured.

"Waa!"

A shriek, like a baby's cry, exploded in their ears. A grey figure finally materialized: an elderly monk in grey robes, robust in build, shrouded in black mist. His face was ferocious, and his eyes glowed crimson. Furthermore, fine, blood-red scales had sprouted on his face, extending to his neck and arms, making him appear fierce and no longer human.

"Reverend, why do you appear in such a horrifying state?" the ancient Sanskrit expert asked. He hadn't truly entered the cultivation world and couldn't discern the extent of the monk's power.

"This person's Buddha-nature has been extinguished; he lost his true self long ago," an old monk said. "Now, only an evil thought sustains his physical body, or rather, he is already dead."

"What a pity," a Venerable Master murmured, filled with doubt. "This person's cultivation realm is far superior to ours. Why did he become lost here?"

"Are you also seeking Spirit Mountain? I..." The old monk with crimson eyes spoke grimly, shrouded in black mist like a vengeful spirit, his voice mournful: "I devoted my life to Buddha, yet I never saw Spirit Mountain. I pursued it through countless perils, only for it to be in vain. What is the point of worshipping Buddha anymore?"

Everyone instantly understood. It was his boundless resentment that had transformed him into this demonic being. Pitiable and lamentable, he had abandoned the Buddha.

"The Buddhas are all dead! What are you still searching for?" the grey-robed monk cried, tears of blood dripping from his eyes as he charged forward, shouting, "An illusory Spirit Mountain? What good is reaching it? I will liberate you!"

Everyone sighed inwardly. This person had revered the Buddha his entire life, only for it to end in nothingness. He died on the path of seeking Buddha, which was why boundless resentment had gathered and lingered, refusing to dissipate.

As he raised his hand, an alms bowl appeared, descending like a vast purple-gold sky, enveloping everyone beneath it. Overwhelming and radiating a fierce aura, it caused the surrounding land to rapidly crumble, except for the ancient path beneath their feet. A cold wind howled, uprooting large trees. The Venerable Masters' expressions changed. This immense power far surpassed their own; it was utterly unstoppable. Had Ye Fan not been there, they believed this single strike would have reduced everyone to ash.

"Clang!"

Ye Fan raised a hand and tapped. A golden fingertip pressed against the alms bowl, effortlessly piercing and shattering it. Fragments of light scattered across the sky. The demonized old monk cried out and flew backward, crashing through a section of the ancient temple.

"Ah..." With a piercing shriek, the old monk's face contorted grotesquely, fangs emerged from his mouth, and blood dripped from his eyes. He roared and charged once more. Ye Fan raised his hand and pressed forward, as if a great golden millstone was descending, pinning the monk to the ground, utterly immobile. This was a manifestation of great divine power.

Beside him, the Venerable Masters watched with expressions of shock. In their eyes, this was a demonic form that would be extremely difficult to subdue, yet it had been suppressed with such ease.

Ye Fan sighed softly. He didn't crush the monk to pieces. In a sense, this was a pitiable person—a lifetime of faith that ultimately amounted to nothing, his body dead and his path extinguished, with only a lingering breath of resentment.

"Please, allow us to see him off," Ximoti said, unable to bear it, stepping forward and bowing with clasped hands.

Ye Fan nodded without a word. The venerable ones stepped forward, all sitting cross-legged beside the demonic monk, reciting scriptures to dispel his malevolent energy and guide him to rebirth.

"Namo Amitābha-buddhāya, Tathāgatāya, Tadyathā, Amṛtod-bhave..."

Before long, the old monk, held under Ye Fan's golden hand, was completely rid of the black mist. All the blood-red scales on his body vanished, and the expression on his face gradually became serene. Finally, Ye Fan lifted his hand. The old monk transformed into a sacred light, sat up, uttered "Namo Amitābha Buddha," and then dissipated into a shower of light, his resentment completely dispersed.

"We cultivators, by excessively revering Buddha, develop deep attachments, yet are unable to perceive the true Buddha, thus leading to such regret," a Venerable Master murmured, his hands clasped, reciting a Dharma sutra. "It was not his fault."

They continued their journey. The ancient path leading to Spirit Mountain was strewn with bones. Along the way, they discovered no less than several hundred sets of remains, all belonging to enlightened monks. This was cause for lament. Only those who revered Buddha could find this place, yet they could only die halfway, unable to approach Spirit Mountain. It was truly tragic.

Suddenly, the ancient path ended. A pitch-black abyss stretched before them, blocking their way. The path to Spirit Mountain was still faintly visible on the other side.

"Is this a test?" Ye Fan asked.

"No, it's because the secret words we received from our ancestors are incomplete," an old monk explained. "That's why the path is broken here. It seems we must cross it ourselves to reconnect with the other side."

Throughout this journey, Ye Fan had been silently reciting incantations, empowering the small stone Buddha with his own magical energy. This was how the ancient path had remained extended before them, but now it was finally blocked.

"Alright, let's cross it," Ye Fan said. He wanted to enter the Spirit Mountain dojo and see for himself. Since its vibrations were no less than those of Mount Sumeru, it must hold an astonishing ancient dojo.

"Roar..."

Suddenly, piercing cries erupted. The abyss was engulfed in monstrous black mist, filled with wailing ghosts and a multitude of demons and monsters struggling within, trying to break free.

"This is the Abyss of Chaotic Demons," Ximoti exclaimed in surprise. "It's where Sakyamuni suppressed and eradicated various demons and monsters before his enlightenment. Many of them were cast into this very abyss."

This abyss could not be flown over. It concentrated the murderous aura of countless demons, transforming into a killing field. Only by crossing it step by step on one's own power was it possible.

"Is that so? I'd like to see what kind of demons Sakyamuni Buddha subdued," Ye Fan said. He radiated golden light, enveloping the others within it, and stepped across the abyss, walking atop the charging evil spirits.

A dance of demons! Countless great fiends and devils, born from resentment, surged upwards. Although they no longer possessed their former magical powers, they were still terrifyingly strong, charging forward with wails.

"Rumble..."

Thunder rumbled around Ye Fan's body as his Golden Sacred Domain expanded. He traversed this hellish landscape like a deity, walking above it. And in this process, he truly encountered some formidable beings.

"Bang!"

A sect-master level demon spirit was shattered into specks of light by a single finger from him, turning into nothingness and sending a wave of evil spirits retreating in fear. Then, when a gigantic white skeleton appeared, the entire Abyss of Chaotic Demons instantly erupted.

"A demon with a skeleton!"

Ye Fan's eyes gleamed. This was incredibly rare; its strength was immense. The skeleton withstood one of his strikes without breaking and began to fight him. He moved like lightning, with the agility of a dragon and tiger, the spring of an ape, and the strike of a snake, delivering continuous heavy blows. With a total of eighteen strikes, he shattered the snow-white skeleton with a thud.

Beside him, the Indian monks were all trembling with fright. After a long moment, one of them finally said, "If I'm not mistaken, this skeleton belonged to a Guardian Vajra of our Buddhist sect who fell into the demonic path. His form and bones were supposed to be indestructible. How... how could he have been shattered like that?" They couldn't comprehend it. A Buddhist Guardian Vajra possessed an indestructible body, difficult to harm even in death. Just how powerful was this young man before them? His physical body surpassed that of a Buddha!

The Abyss of Chaotic Demons was truly a perilous place. Demons and monsters frequently burst forth, bound within, wanting to drag the living to their graves. It was impossible for ordinary people to pass through. The Venerable Masters knew that in this era, anyone who came here would surely die; it was simply impossible to cross. The evil spirits within were all transformed from ancient beings of great divine power who had perished. Yet, Ye Fan's combat strength was astonishing. Although he encountered several fierce battles, he emerged victorious from all of them, fighting his way through. The strength he displayed seemed almost god-like to them. He continuously suppressed various demons and monsters, sweeping aside all opposition; no one could stop him.

Finally, Ye Fan fought his way across the Abyss of Chaotic Demons, successfully stepping onto the broken path and continuing forward.

"Boom!"

Waves surged skyward, reaching great heights, stretching into a vast expanse. A boundless ocean blocked their path. The deafening roar of the waves was so immense, it made them wonder if they were dreaming. After traveling an unknown number of miles, they had somehow arrived at such a place. The ancient path was obstructed, and before them lay an endless expanse of water.

"How is this possible? Have we left the Tibetan region?" the ancient Sanskrit expert stammered in disbelief.

"This is the Sea of Suffering," an old monk explained. "To approach Spirit Mountain, one must cross it. Perhaps this is the true Earth, and what we usually perceive is only a part of it."

"The Sea of Suffering is boundless; turning back leads to the shore," another old monk spoke. "Are we still going to cross?"

"Until I see Spirit Mountain, I will not turn back," Ye Fan murmured.

Having witnessed his great divine powers, they understood that his words represented their collective decision: they would certainly continue forward. Ye Fan extended his hand and pointed. A purple-bronze warship appeared in the void, and they all boarded it, slowly traversing the boundless Sea of Suffering, advancing towards the other shore.

"Boom!"

Terrifying waves crashed against the shore, and furious tides washed over the sky. The dark ocean instilled dread; each surge seemed capable of overturning heaven and earth. Astonishingly, living beings emerged from the sea, roaring as they approached. Faint, shadowy figures appeared, astonishing them. After advancing hundreds of miles, countless white skeletal claws stretched out from the seawater, and terrifying demons surged forth, attacking the warship in the sky. It was far more terrifying than the Abyss of Chaotic Demons, containing immeasurable evil spirits radiating monstrous auras!

Ye Fan took out a bronze lamp with a human body and a demonic face and hung it on the bow. Instantly, the wind calmed and the waves stilled. All the demons and monsters vanished, no longer stirring up trouble. This was the bronze lamp brought from the ancient planet Yinghuo, left behind by Sakyamuni to suppress the malevolent spirit of a Great Accomplished Saintly Body. It was a bizarre secret treasure, fueled by the oil of an ancient saint.

Everyone was astonished. This Sea of Suffering was undeniably terrifying; if they had proceeded normally, even golden Arhats might have perished. Yet, simply because of the bronze lamp, their journey became smooth sailing. The black Sea of Suffering churned, but no further danger appeared. However, they could still sense extremely terrifying demons swimming beneath the surface, occasionally peering upwards, yet none dared to approach.

The bronze lamp emitted a faint green glow. Its lifelike form, with a human body approaching the Dao and a ferocious demonic face, used its tongue as a wick. The flickering flame strangely burned ancient runes, enveloping the entire bronze ship. Furthermore, a withered old man appeared, squatting on the bow, smiling eerily at them. His indefinable malevolence sent shivers down the spines of the Indian Venerable Masters.

Ye Fan had seen him before, so his expression remained unchanged. It had to be said that this bronze lamp possessed divine power, capable of suppressing all evil spirits. Nine full days passed. Along the way, not a single demon or monster emerged, and even the entire Sea of Suffering quieted down, intimidated by the lamp.

After nine days, they reached the other shore. Looking ahead, a range of mountains, tens of thousands of feet high, soared into the clouds, an incredibly magnificent sight.

"Spirit Mountain! We're almost at the ancient Spirit Mountain dojo!" The old monks were all incredibly excited.

Ye Fan remained silent. He felt a vastness, the undulating waves of Buddha-nature, and knew they were truly nearing the legendary Spirit Mountain.

"Eh, what's that...?"

A day later, as they traversed through one mountain range after another, specks of light appeared ahead, and divine radiance permeated the air. Ye Fan was also surprised. Having cultivated the Heavenly Eye, he could naturally see much further and had already spotted the miraculous sight on the horizon. Divine flowers danced in the air, transforming into a shower of brilliant, sparkling light.

There, an ancient Bodhi tree stood, its branches twisting like coiling dragons, stretching in all directions. Its leaves were a vibrant, dripping green, imbued with the vibrations of the Great Dao. Beneath the ancient tree, a middle-aged man in his thirties sat cross-legged, free from even a speck of dust. His body was imprinted in the void, merging with the Great Dao, appearing to exist simultaneously in the past, present, and future.

"Sakyamuni Buddha!" Ximoti and the others exclaimed once they clearly saw him, their minds reeling as if they would explode. They all immediately fell to their knees in worship. Ye Fan was also startled. This person's appearance was truly extraordinary, identical to the Sakyamuni Buddha statues found in temples. At this moment, he was completely merged with the Great Dao.