Primordial Era: A Counterattack Against Hongjun Daozu at the Start

Even though they were used to the poverty and hardship of Xiniu Hezhou, such a scene of collective humiliation still made everyone feel a surge of bitterness in their hearts.

These years I have been cultivating in seclusion at the foot of Mount Ling. Although I am often mocked by Eastern cultivators for being poor, I have never even had my natal magic treasure taken away.

Some even recalled the embarrassing scene when the strong man from the Wu tribe didn't even spare their shoes during the previous robbery, and their ears burned with shame and indignation.

The shouts of the witch warriors came from the direction of the Reincarnation Platform, startling everyone into taking three steps back.

The humiliation of being searched with a black iron rod pressed against his throat was still vivid in his mind. Even though he was filled with hatred, his legs felt like they were made of lead and he could not move an inch.

It's unclear who turned their head first, but hundreds of gazes gradually converged on Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva on the blue lotus throne.

This Buddhist disciple, known for his wisdom and resourcefulness, was now digging his ten fingers deep into his palms.

As the person in charge of this sermon at the Reincarnation Platform, he knew better than anyone the consequences of returning empty-handed.

Let alone the thunderous wrath of the two saints, Jieyin and Zhunti, the mere presence of their fellow disciples on Mount Sumeru, waiting to see them make a fool of themselves, would be enough to nail them to the pillar of shame, never to rise again.

"Venerable One, are you truly going to give up now?" a disciple asked in a hoarse voice. Ksitigarbha looked up at the golden light of merit surging deep within the Samsara Platform, a bitter taste rising in his throat.

He knew all too well that retreating at this moment would mean the collapse of his Dao heart, but those judges of the witch clan who held the Book of Life and Death had clearly made the entire Samsara Palace as secure as an iron barrel.

Suddenly, a deafening war drum sounded from the direction of the Reincarnation Platform, startling everyone and causing ripples to appear on their illusory robes.

Ksitigarbha suddenly stood up, his kasaya fluttering without wind. He saw the twelve ancestral witches appearing in the clouds, and he also saw the golden Buddhist fire suddenly igniting in his eyes.

As Ksitigarbha gazed at the lingering image of the Six Paths of Reincarnation, he suddenly felt a chill run down his neck. Fragments of memory surged like the undercurrents of the River Styx, and the past events of Jin Chanzi being besieged by the Witch Clan suddenly became clear. It was clearly an elaborate trap, and the bait was the entire Western Religion.

"No wonder the altar of the Twelve Ancestral Witches collapsed unexpectedly..." He traced the cracks on the edge of the Wheel of Reincarnation with his fingertips, each line telling the story of a certain being's twisted sense of humor.

The various strange phenomena of the past converged like star trails, piecing together a chilling truth in their sea of ​​consciousness: the moment they stepped into the underworld, they became pawns on someone else's chessboard.

The moment his robe was soaked with cold sweat, Ksitigarbha suddenly heard his own rapid breathing.

He, who was known for his wisdom and cunning, was completely unaware of the millennia-long scheme he had been orchestrating. This suffocating feeling of being looked down upon from a higher dimension was even greater than when he faced the sea of ​​blood and demons head-on.

"Senior brother!" The young novice monk's voice pierced the silence. Ksitigarbha looked up and saw thirty-seven eager gazes burning into his robes. Even the usually arrogant Jin Chanzi was clutching his empty Qiankun bag tightly.

Ksitigarbha brushed away the pollen from his sleeve, his voice carrying the chilling quality unique to the underworld: "Have any of you ever seen a spider weave a web?"

He flicked his finger, and spiritual energy wove a flickering net of light in the air. "We've stumbled upon the causal spider's nest of a powerful being, but the spider silk is ultimately..."

Before he finished speaking, Jin Chanzi suddenly tore off the Bodhi beads from his wrist: "What do I care about the spider web? My Seven Treasures Kasaya is still in Hou Tu's hands." The scattered beads bounced on the ground, making everyone's eyes red. Weren't those stolen magical treasures also invisible threads that bound them?

"Then let the weaver see." Ksitigarbha suddenly ripped off the necklace from his chest and threw it to the ground. The sound of the jade shattering startled crows into flight. "The ability of an ant to devour silk."

He turned and walked towards the other side of the River of Oblivion, his robe billowing like dark clouds hanging from the sky, and the halo of the Six Paths of Reincarnation twisted into a mocking smile behind him.

The disciples looked at each other for a moment, then suddenly began to chant the Rebirth Mantra in unison.

The scriptures for the salvation of the dead echo at the Bridge of Helplessness, but it seems more like they are trying to redeem the dignity that has been deceived.

Jin Chanzi crushed the last Bodhi bead with his foot, the sound of tearing silk mixed with a cold laugh: "It's time for some people to understand that even vultures can peck at eyes."

Deep within the Netherworld, several beams of Buddhist light quietly disappeared into the blood-red cave.

Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva sits cross-legged on a red lotus of karmic fire, the Vajra mudra between his brows flickering, and the phantom of the twelve-petaled golden lotus appears and disappears behind him.

The water mirrors of the Ten Kings of Hell clearly reflected that these visitors from Mount Ling were using formless Sanskrit chants to deduce the universe, attempting to re-establish the causal chain.

At this moment, on the dome of the Hall of Reincarnation, Zhou Yi stood on the Yin-Yang array pattern, gazing thoughtfully at the gradually dissipating Buddhist light on the road to the Yellow Springs.

He deliberately left the rift leading to the animal realm unsealed, allowing those few strands of Buddhist compassion to linger within it, just as a chess player intentionally leaves ko threats in the endgame, waiting for the opponent to respond and fall into the trap.

"Does the Venerable One truly intend to go to Avici Hell to demand an explanation?" The Ox-Headed Yin General's bronze halberd drew sparks across the ground.

Zhou Yi, however, hung the Book of Life and Death before the Wheel of Reincarnation. Amidst the flowing six-colored light, the illusory image of the karmic fire and red lotus cast a reflection in the animal realm.

He had long ago hidden the core of the Twelve Heavenly Gods and Demons Formation deep within the Asura Path, waiting only for the Buddhist golden body to re-enter the Netherworld.

The chaotic energy at the core of the Six Paths of Reincarnation suddenly surged, and Zhou Yi's yarrow stalk staff touched the void at the junction of the Hungry Ghost Path and the Human Path.

Each vortex of reincarnation here corresponds to the trajectory of the stars in the heavens. Fragments of the primordial spirit of the Ancestral Witch of the Thick Earth float in the Path of the Gods, while the Asura Path seals the boundless hatred of Gonggong when he angrily struck Buzhou Mountain.

He took the wine gourd from his waist and poured the fine wine from Fengdu onto the edge of the Reincarnation Well, which caused the six realms to resonate and tremble like a dragon's roar.

The chanting outside the Thirty-Three Heavens suddenly stopped, and three beads of the rosary in the hand of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva broke off.

He was shocked to discover that the karmic fire in the Asura Path resonated with the Merit Pool of Mount Ling, and the illusory image of the twelve-petaled golden lotus gradually showed cracks under the erosion of the power of reincarnation.

Zhou Yi has already stepped onto the human path amidst the waves of the Yellow Springs, where the tree of cause and effect he planted three hundred years ago is now bearing strange fruits that resemble the mantra "者".

As the Netherworld winds whipped up Zhou Yi's dark cloak, a sigh came from the depths of the Six Paths of Reincarnation from the ancestral sorcerer of the Thick Earth.

The array formed from the essence and blood of the twelve ancestral witches appeared in Zhou Yi's palm, echoing the Dutian Shensha Array in the Asura Path.

He chuckled as he gazed at the closing rift in the animal realm: "Let's see if the Buddhas of Mount Ling can save us from the three thousand karmic fires of this great calamity of the witches and demons."

Gazing at the ever-flowing vortex of reincarnation, Zhou Yi leaped without hesitation into the space between the six pillars of light that connected heaven and earth.

A vast pulling force suddenly surged from all directions, each beam of light transforming into a vortex that devoured everything, attempting to sweep him into different temporal and spatial torrents.

Facing the chaotic currents of laws powerful enough to tear apart Golden Immortals, Zhou Yi's robes fluttered as he walked with composure, surrounded by a faint aura of chaos, heading straight towards the core area of ​​Samsara.

Suddenly, the entire underworld resonated strangely, and billions of rays of light emerged from the void like colorful butterflies breaking free of their cocoons.

"Bang! Bang!"

A deep, powerful pulsating sound came from the end of reincarnation, and the sound waves transformed into tangible golden ripples that rippled through the void.

A warmth welled up in Zhou Yi's eyes as he lightly touched the vibrating spacetime with his fingertips: "It's been a long time."

As if summoned, the mysterious rhythm suddenly became rapid, like the sound of war drums, and the nine-colored clouds condensed into the shape of wings that covered the sky.