The Buddha is actually me

Chapter 437: Tianzun Breaks Through
"The Five Hundred Arhats Demon-Suppressing Diagram?"

Upon hearing this name, not only Zhang Jiuyang, but even Yue Ling showed a look of unfamiliarity. They had never heard that there was such a painting in Baiyun Temple.

Tongji explained, "The Painting Saint and the founder of our Baiyun Temple are good friends. Before he disappeared, he specially left this painting to the founder. Of course, this is a secret of our temple, so please don't spread it to others."

If it weren't for the fact that Zhang Jiuyang might be the descendant of the Saint of Painting and that he helped Qiangwei overcome her fear, Tongji would not have revealed this secret.

After all, the "Diagram of Five Hundred Arhats to Subdue Demons" is used to guard the forbidden area, and the forbidden area is the most sacred place in Baiyun Temple and has extraordinary significance. Except for the abbot, even he, the head of the Demon Subduing Institute, can only guard it from outside and is not allowed to enter.

This is also the reason why he was so shocked and angry when he learned that Venerable Gesang had entered the holy land.

"Okay, as long as it's the painting saint's posthumous work, thank you Master Tongji."

Zhang Jiuyang saluted with a smile, but he was thinking silently in his heart. Looking at Tongji's hesitant attitude when he spoke, the "Diagram of Five Hundred Arhats to Suppress Demons" might have some unusual meaning.

The key to Krishna's plan is to find the Huashou Gate. According to the Two-Faced Buddha, the Huashou Gate is in the Baiyun Temple, which is why the Baiyun Temple has been prosperous for thousands of years.

Could it be that the holy land mentioned by Venerable Gesang is related to Huashoumen?

"It's just that the five hundred arhats have been guarding the painting for thousands of years, and their tempers are a bit bad. If they have offended Mr. Zhang, please forgive me."

Thinking of the power of the painting, Tongji reminded worriedly.

Even he, the abbot of Baiyun Temple, was looked down upon by the five hundred arhats at first, but they gradually became friends.

Zhang Jiuyang is an unpredictable person, and his wife Yue Ling is so tough. If a conflict occurs, he will be in a difficult position being caught in the middle.

"Don't worry, we are young people and we won't argue with old men."

Zhang Jiuyang smiled faintly, but there was a hint of anticipation in his heart.

I wonder what surprises the five hundred Arhats can bring him?
……

A sneeze!

On some unnamed ancient peak inside Baiyun Temple, surrounded by a vast sea of ​​clouds and rosy clouds, it looked like a fairyland. Suddenly, on the silent and deserted peak, a sneezing sound was heard.

In the mural, the sleeping arhat opened his hazy eyes, and there was a hint of drunkenness in his voice.

"Strange, I seemed to dream that the master came back."

The god of wine, Arhat, seemed to be drunk. When he heard the word "master", he suddenly burst into tears. Then a strong wind whistled around him, blowing away the clouds.

The White-browed Arhat sighed and said, "Don't talk nonsense, God of Wine, drink less. It's not right for a monk to smell of alcohol."

Although he refuted, there was a hint of sigh in his voice.

"If the master is still here, why doesn't he come back to find us? Doesn't he want us anymore?"

"Alright, alright, stop crying! If you keep crying I will let the ghosts bite you!"

The ghost-catching arhat scolded.

clang!
In the mural, the Arhat who was lifting the tripod suddenly put down the heavy tripod in his hand, causing the entire stone wall to sway slightly, and there was some indignation in his voice.

"What do you have to complain about? When the master drew me, I was holding a tripod. I have held this tripod for thousands of years, and you are just drinking and sleeping!"

The bell-holding arhat snorted, "You are just holding a tripod, but I have to ring the bell every day. How about we switch?"

The originally quiet mountain suddenly became very noisy, the Arhats started quarreling and became more and more angry.

Even if it is just a painting, if it stays in one place for thousands of years, the boredom will be very torturous.

At this moment, a powerful and majestic voice sounded.

"Be quiet, someone is coming."

In an instant, all sounds disappeared, the Three-Eyed Arhat opened his heavenly eyes, and the Long-Eared Arhat's earlobes kept trembling, and all the sounds within hundreds of miles entered his ears.

But even with their magical powers, they couldn't find anything.

But no one would question Tianlong Luohan's words. As the leader of the Five Hundred Luohan, Tianlong Luohan's magical powers were far superior to those of the other Luohans. Even the Saint of Painting once said that this painting took ten percent of the effort, and Tianlong accounted for nine out of ten.

In Buddhist legend, Tianlong Arhat is one of the Buddha's direct disciples, an existence that has stepped half a foot into the realm of Bodhisattva. He once subdued the Dragon King and his magical powers are unfathomable. If it weren't for his strong murderous nature, he might have been able to become a Buddha.

"You are also an expert. Now that you are here, why do you have to hide your head and show your tail?"

Tianlong Arhat asked again, and the loud Buddhist sound echoed in the mountains and valleys. It was both a warning and a secret message.

Obviously, the person in the dark was so powerful that even he, who had the strength of the sixth realm, felt a great sense of crisis.

However, Tianlong Luohan soon discovered that the surroundings seemed to be shrouded by an invisible formation that blocked out all sound and prevented it from being heard far away.

A figure slowly appeared in the void, changing from transparent to solid, as if it was reflected from another world, and there seemed to be a hint of Zen in the air.

It is neither here, nor on the other side, nor in the middle of the stream.

He was covered in a black robe and there was a layer of smoke surrounding his body, blocking all prying eyes. Only a vague figure could be seen.

The wine god arhat woke up, the sleeping arhat stood up, the white-browed arhat frowned, and the two arhats holding the tripod and the bell held the magic tools in their hands tightly, waiting with full concentration.

The five hundred arhats all had solemn and dignified appearances, and they were acting as if they were subduing demons. A vast sense of Zen spread out, and the entire mountain seemed to be shrouded in Buddha's light.

"My name is... Tianzun."

The voice of the man in black was deep and magnetic, echoing in the ears of every Arhat. It seemed to have some strange magic that made the Arhats hold their breath.

It was an indescribable feeling of oppression, which even made them unable to speak, for fear of leaking their energy and revealing their flaws. "Amitabha."

It was Tianlong Luohan who stood up and took the initiative to say, "I never thought that in today's world, there would be someone like you."

The mysterious man who called himself Tianzun put him under such great pressure that he actually reminded him of his former master.

This person is probably at the eighth level of cultivation!
The Yang God emerges in the Eight Realms. Even in the ancient times when the spiritual energy was ten times more than it is today and many outstanding people emerged, he would definitely be the most powerful person standing at the pinnacle of the human world!
In this era when the sixth realm is already rare, the emergence of the eighth realm is truly incredible.

Tianzun did not answer Tianlong Luohan's question, but just quietly looked at the painting "Five Hundred Arhats Conquering Demons", as if he was appreciating the brushwork and techniques therein, strolling leisurely in the garden.

After a long while, he uttered eight words indifferently.

"This is the last work of the painting saint."

This sentence instantly angered the five hundred Arhats, and the Tianlong Arhat was even more murderous, his eyes were bloodshot, as if there was a red lotus fire rising.

The Saint of Painting is the person they respect the most and the master who gave them life. The master’s name must not be blasphemed by anyone!
Roar!
A golden arhat flies out of the painting riding a lion. The lion under his crotch seems to be made of gold, with fluttering mane, and looks very domineering.

The arhat made the fearless lion seal with his hands, and opened his eyes at the same time as the golden lion. The Vajra glared and let out a roar.

"Om!"

The six-character mantra of Buddhism, plus the fearless lion seal and the lion's roar of Buddhism, this is the unique magical power of the lion-riding arhat. Under the Sanskrit sound, it can shatter thousands of demons and intimidate the world in all directions!
The surrounding sea of ​​clouds was shattered by the sound waves in an instant, and the trees on the mountaintops were blown away like weeds, uprooted, and turned into powder and scattered into the sky.

However, the figure of Tianzun remained motionless, like the towering Kunlun Mountain that stretches between heaven and earth. No matter which direction the wind blows, I remain unmoved.

Only the black robe fluttered in the wind.

"The voice of an ordinary man is so boring."

Tianzun shook his head, and when the Lion-Riding Arhat was about to shout out the next six-word mantra, a strand of hair fell from his head and then pierced through the void like a sharp arrow. As if there was some kind of law, and even time seemed to slow down.

"Be careful--"

Tianlong Luohan's pupils condensed, and he warned and prepared to take action at the same time, but he was still a step too late.

No more, no less, just one step.

puff!
Blood splattered and turned into ink when it fell to the ground.

The lion's roar came to an abrupt stop. The Arhat riding the lion tightly covered his throat which was pierced by the hair. His vocal cords had been completely destroyed and he could no longer utter a word.

He, who was known as the best in sound skills among the Five Hundred Arhats, suddenly became mute.

What's even more terrifying is that the wound on his throat has some terrifying and mysterious power that is constantly tearing and spreading.

There was a click.

The head of the Lion-Riding Arhat rolled to the ground, and he died with his eyes open.

His body gradually turned into ink and disappeared, and although the lion-riding arhat on the original mural was still there, the head was missing.

"Ride a lion!"

"Old Nineteen!"

The Arhats cried out one after another, their voices filled with grief.

Although they often quarreled, that was just a way to spice up the long life. In fact, they had long been as close as a family.

But now the lion rider is dead, truly dead, and even the charm of the painting has been wiped out.

You know, with the blessing of the power of the Painting Saint, they are almost immortal. Even if they die in battle, they can be resurrected in the painting. But now their immortality has been broken.

This means that the other party is a great master at the same level as the Saint of Painting!
"Give me back my brother's life!"

The Arhat holding the bell flew out of the painting, furious. The magic bell in his hand kept growing bigger in the air, then fell upside down towards the Heavenly Venerable, making a loud bang.

Then he slapped the bell again and again, hoping to use the force of the shock to kill the enemy.

This precious bell can absorb external attacks and convert them into internal shock force. Even the finest steel that has been forged a hundred times can be shaken into a pool of molten iron. It is very powerful.

The stronger the external attack, the greater the internal shock.

The other Arhats also attacked the precious bell, cooperating with each other very well.

But at this moment, the Arhat holding the bell suddenly felt dizzy, the world around him spun, and he found himself swapping places with the Heavenly Venerable, appearing inside the bell like a shadow.

"Do not--"

Before he could finish his words, the big bell rang mournfully, then broke into pieces and shattered into dust.

The Arhat holding the bell has turned into a pool of ink.

"It's fake, after all, it's fake, and a bit boring."

Tianzun stood with his hands behind his back, like a god overlooking all living beings, his eyes were indifferent without a trace of emotion.

"I want to see the holy land. You painting slaves, either make way or get on the road."

"Choose one."

……

(End of this chapter)