Wuxiang was dead.
Venerable Buddha had already known.
And so, he had come for retribution.
As his disciple, Wuxiang's death was more than just a loss—
It was an insult to his name.
A disciple of Venerable Buddha, a monk of Buddhism, had been slain.
If he did nothing—
Would the world not think him weak?
Would they not believe that the Buddha could be humiliated without consequence?
Unforgivable.
Yao Ziyan's words left little room for doubt.
She had been involved.
That alone was reason enough.
Venerable Buddha's expression remained unreadable as he spoke, his voice reverberating through the valley:
"Today, the name of the Buddha returns to this world."
The moment those words fell, crimson flames erupted from his body.
The fire raged, exuding a heat so intense that space itself trembled, distorting under the sheer temperature.
A suffocating pressure filled the air, swallowing the sky in a sea of scarlet light.
This—
This was the power of a Eminence.
Under the weight of his presence, the beast monarchs felt their very souls crushed.
Their faces turned deathly pale.
Before such absolute strength—
All resistance was meaningless.
Even those who had stepped into the Pathseeker realm found themselves paralyzed, unable to summon the will to fight.
Yao Ziyan gritted her teeth.
Even with her own power at Eminence First Rank, she felt the creeping sensation of helplessness.
The High Priest stood solemnly, his third eye radiating an ethereal glow.
Behind him, the phantom of an ancient beast loomed, its colossal form blotting out the sky.
Though faint and illusory, its presence exuded an overwhelming sense of depth—
As if it stood between reality and an endless void.
Yet, even with such a force behind him, the High Priest dared not show the slightest carelessness.
Venerable Buddha regarded the apparition with a detached gaze.
"The Void Beast—one of the ten ancient sacred beasts."
His voice was calm, almost indifferent.
"To think that its bloodline still lingers within the Monster Royal Clan."
He paused.
"Eminence Fourth Rank… it seems your clan is not as pitiful as it appears."
A brief silence.
Then—
"However, in the end, that is all."
Venerable Buddha raised his right hand.
Behind him, the crimson flames surged once more, stretching across the heavens like an unending inferno.
The fire twisted and coiled, condensing into a singular, massive palm suspended in the sky.
It was vast—an all-consuming hand of divine judgment.
"Brahma Seal."
The whisper was almost imperceptible.
Then—
The palm descended.
Falling at terrifying speed, it shattered the sky itself, warping reality as it crashed downward.
The sheer force of its descent sent violent winds sweeping through the valley.
The ground trembled—
And then—
Sank.
The earth caved in by meters beneath its pressure, the surrounding terrain collapsing as if bowing in submission to its power.
Yet—
A sudden resonance echoed through the battlefield.
HUMMMM!
A dim, eerie brilliance spread across the valley.
The countless bones littering the land began to tremble—
Then rise.
A wave of unseen resentment surged forth, an ancient, formless rage pressing against the Buddha's might.
Even Venerable Buddha hesitated.
These were not ordinary corpses.
The remains of the Monster Royal Clan's fallen warriors, figures of immense power in ages past—
Even in death, they refused to submit.
The air grew heavy with the silent fury of the forgotten dead.
For the first time, Venerable Buddha's expression shifted.
He did not face this power head-on.
Instead—
His palm turned over, and with a flick of his wrist—
A golden relic materialized.
The moment it appeared, an immeasurable radiance bathed the valley in light.
Buddha's Light.
A force so pure, so absolute—
That even the wrath of the long-dead hesitated before it.
A delicate balance formed.
The golden light clashed against the lingering spirits of the fallen, neither side advancing, neither side retreating.
A moment of equilibrium—
Maintained by a single object.
The Saint's Relic.
The High Priest's pupils shrank.
"A Saint's relic…?"
His breath grew heavy.
Above Eminence, there was Celestial Ascendant.
And those who reached the realm of Celestial Ascension—
Were saints.
They stood at the pinnacle of cultivation, their numbers few, their presence near mythical.
It was said that saints no longer concerned themselves with the mortal world.
There was little that could tempt them from their seclusion.
And yet—
This relic—
A fragment left behind by such an existence—
Rested in the hands of Venerable Buddha.
A testament to the depth of Buddhism's heritage.
A sign—
Of its unshakable foundation.