Mythology

Chapter 555 Next is the merger

Upon hearing this, Amitabha Buddha nodded slightly with his enormous body.

Although he was somewhat puzzled, while there were many immortals and Buddhas in the mortal realm, their strength was at most that of a Primordial Golden Immortal, while among the descending ghosts and gods there were many beings comparable to Quasi-Saints.

Why should he take action himself?

Amitabha Buddha dared not have the slightest objection. After the second reincarnation, his body and soul were no longer under his control. If Shakyamuni had a single thought, he would die and his soul would dissipate.

boom! !

He transformed into a Buddha statue a thousand feet tall, radiating brilliant Buddhist light.

He then took a step forward.

The barrier between Yin and Yang was already riddled with cracks, making it impossible to block the sage. Immediately, half of Amitabha Buddha's body descended to the mortal realm.

The myriad-colored tree trembled continuously, and countless roots snapped in response.

The immortals and Buddhas looked on in despair. Not only did the magic array collapse one after another under the impact of the ghosts and gods, but the Eight Tribes were also mostly killed or injured in a short time.

They see no possibility of turning the tables.

Some immortals and Buddhas even harbored impure thoughts, wondering if Yang He's disappearance was a ploy to attract Shakyamuni's attention while he himself had already escaped from this world.

boom! !

Without a word, Sun Wukong rushed into the breach in the magic array, facing the three demons, comparable to quasi-saints, alone with his indestructible body.

Even if the ghosts and gods are merely physical beings who have reached the level of quasi-saints, they are still incomparable to true quasi-saints. However, Sun Wukong had two heads torn off as soon as he revealed the form of the Four Monkeys of Chaos.

Yunxiao was exhausted and had no way to help Amitabha Buddha.

Her face was deathly pale, and she couldn't help but mutter, "I shouldn't have set up the Celestial Star Array or the Ten Thousand Immortals Demon Slaying Array. If it had been the Blood Corrosion Ten Thousand Demons Array, it might have lasted longer."

Boom! ! !
Amitabha Buddha extended half an arm and pointed with his index finger.

All the magic arrays surrounding the Myriad Transformations Heavenly Realm vanished into thin air, and all the immortals and Buddhas were completely exposed to the hordes of ghosts and gods, and the balance of power tipped completely to one side.

Then, just as Shakyamuni was attempting to completely descend to the mortal realm...

A sudden change occurred!

hum! ! !
Strange phenomena arose throughout the entire mortal realm—no, throughout the first twelve levels of the endless hell.

The roots of the Myriad Transformations Tree, which were withered and dry just moments before, suddenly burst forth from all directions like a dragon awakening!
Within the first twelve levels of hell, a profound and mysterious Daoist aura was observed to be generated.

The roots intertwined into a net, twisting and tightening instantly, causing Amitabha Buddha to be stuck at the edge of the Yin and Yang realms, his thousand-foot-tall form writhing in agony.

"Ah ah ah ah ah!!!!"

Amitabha Buddha felt as if his body and soul were being torn in two, and could no longer maintain his playful manipulation of the immortals and Buddhas, so he struggled desperately.

puff.

Blood splattered everywhere.

Amitabha Buddha's left arm crashed heavily onto the mortal realm, followed by his shoulder and left leg, which were forcibly split in two by the two forces of heaven.

The Medicine Buddha looked incredulous. "My Buddha, it's impossible. The first twelve levels of hell could never be the realm of extraterrestrial demons."

No matter how many times he looked at it, the first twelve levels of hell all exuded the aura of the Myriad Transformations Heavenly Dao Realm. It was hard to imagine when Yang He had made his arrangements, within a hundred years.

No, there haven't been any similar traces for thousands, even two thousand years.

Medicine Buddha felt immense fear. The situation had once again deviated from expectations. They, too, could not grasp Yang He's footing. It seemed as if a giant hand was manipulating the destiny of the Three Realms.

Shakyamuni saw everything clearly, but instead of being alarmed, he let out a cold laugh, "Yang He, is this the method you've been preparing all this time?"

"Can a mere twelve minor worlds possibly buy us time?"

"wishful thinking!"

Shakyamuni Buddha did not even glance at Amitabha Buddha, nor did he pay any attention to the Medicine Buddha whose mind was unbalanced.

To him, even the Three Saints were merely tools to test Yang He, utterly insignificant, even though Amitabha Buddha was on the verge of death.

Shakyamuni raised his arm, and instantly, a Buddha-light condensed at his fingertips. In half a breath, the Buddha-light had already reached the dazzling bottom.

Bang bang bang! !

A burst of Buddha's light pierced through each of the twelve levels of hell.

A deafening roar echoed for miles around the Myriad Transformation Tree. The Buddha's light swept indiscriminately, killing or injuring most of the immortals and Buddhas. Sun Wukong was also decapitated.

"Yang He, I know you are advancing to the Saint Realm."

Shakyamuni's majestic voice rang out, no longer spouting any grand principles, "There is no chance. No matter how outstanding your talent is, I can seize the moment of advancement, and all your plans will ultimately be nothing but a mirage."

As they spoke, strange phenomena indeed appeared frequently in the depths of the endless hell.

Various mixed energies boiled up, causing the endless hell to be riddled with holes. The current Heavenly Dao of this world could not withstand Yang Cheng's ascension to sainthood, and black water was already overflowing from the end of hell.

If Yang He insists on becoming a saint, the Blackwater will engulf this world ahead of schedule.

"Yang He".

Shakyamuni smiled and said, "As an extraterrestrial demon brought here by the aura of the Void, I am very curious as to why the Heavenly Dao of this world would place its hopes on you."

As soon as he finished speaking, not only were the three saints astonished, but the remaining immortals and gods were also at a loss.

Extraterrestrial demon?

Could the great calamity of this world be related to Yang He?

In disbelief, they heard extremely heavy footsteps approaching from afar, and soon they were nearing the first level of hell.

The branches and leaves of the Myriad Transformation Tree move without wind.

It makes all the gods, immortals, and spirits involuntarily tense up.

Shakyamuni Buddha regained his compassionate demeanor, slowly clasped his hands together, and his eyes radiated unprecedented love.

He started to cryptically ask, "Yang He, don't be fooled by appearances. There is no difference between us in essence. Otherwise, why would you have immortals and Buddhas guard the Tree of Myriad Transformations and imprison billions of mortals within its trunk?"

“I was born from the Void, and you are also from the Void. We come from the same source, so why must we kill each other and add unnecessary sins?”

Shakyamuni nodded slightly and, with a few words, placed Yang He on the opposite side.

The colossal creature arrived at the first level of hell. Yang He's current state was hard to describe as human, even more indescribable than that of a ghost or god.

Because Yang He had not completely refined the permanent character, his body became a monster composed of countless twisted substances. Sometimes it appeared as a majestic Buddha of flesh and blood, sometimes it transformed into a strange gray mist inlaid with billions of eyes, and sometimes it swelled into a giant corpse that stretched across the sky and earth...

The four avatars possessed distinct auras, yet they maintained a balance within Yang He.

Yang He was still undergoing a transformation, seemingly on the verge of going mad at any moment, but his emotions did not fluctuate much.

"Am I really an extraterrestrial demon? Heh, that's an interesting statement."

He was not influenced by Shakyamuni, after all, he had personally witnessed himself traveling to this world, and according to Zhunti's fragmented memories, Guixu had to be traced back to the primordial era.

To be honest, if it weren't for Zhunti Jieyin's reckless actions, Guixu might not have gotten out of control.

Looking at the calm Yang He, Shakyamuni felt inexplicably irritated. He kept thinking about all the known details, trying to deduce what Yang He was planning.

The Tree of Myriad Transformations is not the problem; it's simply trying to delay the collapse of the Heavenly Dao.

Those immortals and Buddhas are meaningless; they're probably just sacrificed pawns.

The twelve levels of hell were unexpected, but they posed no threat to him whatsoever.

Could Yang He's scheme be in Guixu?

"Ugh."

Shakyamuni slowly rose, his gaze returning to its serene state. "Yang He, only by becoming you can I achieve true perfection."

boom! ! !
Yang He transformed into a figure a thousand feet tall, with four heads and eight arms, and charged forward.

Shakyamuni let Yang He approach, and with a swift movement of his lips, he uttered, "Wind."

"What the hell?"

Yang He staggered to a stop, an invisible breeze sweeping over his entire body.

A gentle breeze swept through, already eroding part of his body and soul; two of the three Yang Fires were extinguished, and the damage continued to worsen like a persistent, insidious infection. Yang He grew visibly thinner.

Seeing this, he took the ghost as the leader.

Most of the permanent characters are integrated into the true form. The Immortal Transformation Technique may seem to have little change, but in reality, it can seamlessly utilize any power.

Yang He turned into gray mist, shifting between reality and illusion, his body and soul vanishing in an instant.

In the blink of an eye, his body and soul were reshaped once again, making full use of the immortality of the ghost form and avoiding certain death.

"water."

Shakyamuni spoke again, and a fine, continuous rain poured down.

Yang He transformed into a corpse, with endless corpse energy surging from his arms, but he could not get an inch closer to Shakyamuni. The drizzle washed away all the filth, rendering the corpse form useless.

He felt as if he were stuck in a muddy swamp, and his every move was very sluggish.

"fire."

With the third word, flames erupted from Yang He's mouth and nose. This was no ordinary karmic fire; anything it touched would turn into firewood.

Yang He transformed into the head of a Buddha, with thousands of tiny figures reciting scriptures throughout his body.

The Buddha's light forced out flames, but it also left the body and soul riddled with holes.

"land."

Shakyamuni did not give Yang He the opportunity to use his demonic powers. As if a tangible weight was pressing down on Yang He's mind, his thoughts almost froze, and the operation of any thought became extremely difficult.

Shakyamuni came before Yang He and looked at the five-colored divine light protecting the latter's body.

The five-colored divine light not only adapted to the heavy pressure, but also simulated the supernatural powers of feng shui and fire. Gradually, Yang He's body and soul began to show subtle differences.

"Interesting. The supernatural power that I created casually back then actually shines brightly in you, but in the end it all comes to nothing."

Shakyamuni Buddha's dot between his eyebrows radiates Buddhist light that permeates his body and soul.

"Foolish child, attachment is suffering."

Shakyamuni's compassionate expression resonated deeply within Yang He's heart: "Can you see the five desires in your heart? They are your true shackles."

Yang He's limbs swelled uncontrollably, frantically absorbing Yin energy. Furious Arhat heads sprouted from his back, and countless faces of Yang He appeared on his skin, constantly whispering and disturbing his mind.

The five-colored divine light struggled to maintain itself, adapting to both the four aggregates and the five desires.

"Uh."

Yang He was in unbearable pain and transformed into a demon to enhance his body and soul. Bone spurs protruded and his beast head roared, but he was still unable to harm Shakyamuni.

He curled up on the ground, and his thousand-foot-tall Dharma form returned to its normal size.

"Yang He, I will not give you another chance."

Shakyamuni walked past Yanghe, paying no heed even though the latter still had a chance to live, his mind filled with the thought that everything was under his control.

He quietly descended upon a ravaged mortal realm.

The Myriad Transformation Tree still stands, but only Yunxiao, Wenzhong, and Sha Wujing remain, all wounded and barely clinging to life.

The horde of ghosts and spirits retreated, wailing.

Shakyamuni Buddha did not bow his head; he merely exerted a slight force when he placed his foot on the ground.

puff!
Sha Wujing didn't even have time to scream before his soul was annihilated.

"Evil!!"

Wen Zhong's eyes widened in anger as he tried to summon heavenly lightning by channeling the remaining Yin energy, but Shakyamuni grabbed him and his body suddenly collapsed.

Shakyamuni's gaze lingered on Yunxiao for a few moments.

Hoping to use the clouds to crush Yang He's Dao heart, he slowly walked towards the Myriad Transformations Tree.

At this moment, the Heavenly Dao, on the verge of collapse, finally let out its final lament.

The sky shattered, the earth collapsed, and black water gushed out from the cracks.

Shakyamuni's appearance underwent a dramatic change; his flesh and blood writhed, his bones were reshaped, and his Buddha-light subsided. In the blink of an eye, he became exactly like Yang He!
Even the unique Daoist charm imprinted inside and outside the body and soul, as well as the aura of the body and soul, are lifelike.

He reached out and gently stroked the rough tree trunk, revealing complex and inscrutable emotions.

“Yang He, I saw you from the very beginning of my spiritual awakening.”

"I am nothing more than a remnant soul and resentment that was accidentally gathered in the Ruins of Return, a dreg floating in the boundless black water, while the entire Ruins of Return nourishes your incomplete spiritual light."

An image flashed before his eyes: in the boundless, viscous black water, the indistinct outline of a baby floated silently.

The black water, like amniotic fluid, was carefully lifted up.

"Why?!"

Shakyamuni's jealousy was almost satisfied. "But it doesn't matter anymore. Now I have replaced you. I am the real Yang He!"

The Myriad Transformations Tree initially resisted, but soon succumbed to the refinement of Shakyamuni.

No! You are not him!!!

Just then, Yunxiao let out a heart-wrenching scream.

Supporting her swaying body, she fixed her gaze on Shakyamuni, "Yang He may have a mysterious origin, or his methods may be unpredictable, but he is definitely not the culprit who brought about this great calamity!"

"He would never treat all living beings like you, as worthless as weeds!!"

Snapped!
A soft sound.

Shakyamuni didn't even turn around; he simply waved his hand casually.

Yunxiao's words came to an abrupt end, and his figure vanished instantly, leaving no trace.

With no more distracting noises in his ears, Shakyamuni was able to focus more intently on refining nature.

However, he habitually glanced at the first level of hell out of the corner of his eye, wanting to see Yang He collapse in despair.

What Shakyamuni saw was not the anger and resentment he had expected.

On Yang He's distorted and blurred face, a smile was clearly outlined!
Seventy percent of the smile was mockery, and thirty percent was pity.

Shakyamuni's newly risen sense of pride was shattered, utterly worthless in the face of Yang He's smile. How could he not be unable to stop the refining by the Tree of Myriad Transformations, wishing he could return to the first level of hell?

Yang He was sealed by the Buddha's light of the Three Saints, so he simply closed his eyes and waited.

The last breaths of the permanent characters are about to be completely dissipated.

Click.

He pushed open the gate to the realm of sainthood, and the bottleneck shattered.

An extraordinary phenomenon has occurred!

Mountains of corpses and seas of blood, demons roaming freely, and ghostly figures twisting into bizarre shapes, accompanied by the sound of chanting that resounded through the sky.

Yang He showed no intention of consolidating his cultivation. He gave Shakyamuni the middle finger and then brought up the control panel.

[Would you like to spend 10 points to travel to the main world?]

"determine."

.........

When Yang He opened his eyes again, he was still immersed in the black water.

The Buddha's powerless rage echoed in the endless hell.

"who is it?!!"

Yang He stretched out his limbs and saw the Myriad Transformations Tree standing tall in the mortal realm, with all the immortals and Buddhas looking as if facing a formidable enemy. Time rewound to before entering the world of the legend.

"Buddha, sorry, this is round two."

(End of this chapter)