My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

Countless sword lights surged from his sword, like an inverted Milky Way, like a cascading waterfall, covering the sky and the earth, slashing towards that flesh-and-blood Buddha!

The sword lights varied in length and thickness, some were straight as lines, and some were curved as arcs.

But they have one thing in common—each sword light is accompanied by a transparent, almost invisible halo.

That was sword intent.

Pure Yang Sword Intent from Lu Zu, the Pure Yang Immortal!

The Buddha's smiling face changed for the first time.

The eyes in those palms widened simultaneously, and those arms rose at the same time, trying to block the sword light—

But it couldn't be stopped.

The first sword light struck an arm, severing it in the middle, from which dark red blood gushed.

The second, the third, the fourth—countless sword lights followed closely behind, slicing the severed arm into minced meat, into blood mist, and into nothingness.

Before the blood mist could dissipate, even more sword light surged in, completely shredding them.

Not even a trace remains; there's no flesh or blood left to restore it.

After the sword strike, only two-thirds of the Buddha's body remained.

But Ye Qingfeng did not stop.

He swung his sword again.

"After three thousand, it will transform back into three thousand—"

Countless sword lights surged forth once more!

This time, the sword lights slashed towards the other half of the Buddha's body.

Blood and flesh flew everywhere, and screams of agony shook the heavens.

The monster's body was riddled with holes, the eyes in its palms closed one by one, and the throbbing muscles disintegrated piece by piece.

The slime on its body was still there, still trying to extinguish the sword light.

But it can't be extinguished.

These sword lights represent ultimate sharpness; the slime can extinguish the Samadhi True Fire, but it cannot block the sword light.

After the second sword strike, most of the Buddha's body had disintegrated.

Ye Qingfeng unleashed his third sword strike.

"Three thousand, three thousand, and three thousand again—"

Countless sword lights appeared again!

This sword was aimed at that face.

That compassionate smiling face, that face stained with blood and tears, that face that terrified and disgusted countless people.

A flash of sword light streaked past.

The face split open from the middle.

The curve of his lips was still there, but his face was contorting.

From compassion to ferocity, from ferocity to pain, from pain to some indescribable, eerie expression.

From his two black hole-like eye sockets, a final stream of bloody tears welled up.

The blood and tears were no longer black, but bright red.

Bright red tears of blood streamed down the cracked face, dripping onto its disintegrating body.

Then, that face completely disintegrated.

It turned into a puddle of pus and fell to the ground.

Ye Qingfeng sheathed his sword.

There wasn't a single drop of blood on the Autumn Water Sword.

In the corridor, the sword light faded, and the bloody wind gradually dissipated.

He looked up and around. The two-zhang-tall flesh-and-blood Buddha had completely disappeared, leaving only dried bloodstains on the ground and a strong, nauseating stench.

"call--"

He let out a long breath.

This battle was really tough.

From transforming into Cui Gu and entering the village, to being harassed by those drunken monks, to Shen Zhaoyue suddenly appearing, and finally confronting this flesh-and-blood Buddha head-on.

Overnight, he revealed all the skills he had recently accumulated.

He used everything he could: shrinking the earth to an inch, Samadhi Fire, and transforming a single sword into countless forms.

Especially that final sword strike that multiplied into countless forms—if it weren't for Lü Yang's unwavering trust outside, he wouldn't have been able to unleash it at all.

He stood there for a moment, looking at the mess on the ground, and couldn't help but mutter to himself:

"What on earth is this thing? It's so weird..."

He really couldn't understand it.

Those monks were parasitized, and after their deaths, their flesh and blood coalesced into a giant Buddha.

The Buddha statue was cut down, leaving behind a ground covered in pus.

But what exactly is this strange, fleshy Buddha? Where did it come from?

He recalled the face with black blood and tears streaming down it, and a vague feeling of unease crept into his heart.

This thing is too evil.

It was far more sinister than the painted-skin ghosts and paper goddesses we had encountered before.

"Never mind," he shook his head, "It's already been killed, so what does it matter what it was—"

Before he could finish speaking...

The ground suddenly began to shake.

It wasn't an ordinary tremor, but a violent tremor that came from deep underground.

It looked like something was turning over underground, like something was surging upwards.

Ye Qingfeng's expression changed.

He looked down at the ground.

Those dried bloodstains are changing.

They began to wriggle.

It wasn't blown by the wind, nor scattered by the water, but rather it began to move on its own, like a living thing.

The bloodstains resembled countless tiny snakes, writhing and converging on the ground, flowing in the same direction.

That direction leads to the underground of the temple's main hall.

Ye Qingfeng rushed out of the corridor and arrived at the main hall.

The floor of the main hall has cracked.

Countless cracks spread outwards from the center, growing larger and wider.

A dark red light shone through the crack, its brightness flickering like a heartbeat.

"boom--!"

The ground collapsed.

A huge pit, three zhang in diameter, collapsed in the center of the main hall.

At the bottom of the pit, the altar still stood, but the things on it had changed.

The half-open, half-closed vertical pupil symbol is now glowing.

It wasn't just ordinary light; it was as if it had come to life, its vertical pupils slowly opening.

As it opened, a terrifying aura emanated from the symbol.

The aura was cold, viscous, and heavy, like countless invisible hands pressing down on Ye Qingfeng.

His breathing became labored, and even the flow of his vital energy became difficult.

Around the altar, countless pieces of flesh and blood surged from the ground.

The flesh and blood there were thicker and more bizarre than that of the previous Buddha statue.

They weren't in chunks, but rather like lava, gushing out from the ground and spreading along the surface, engulfing everything in their path.

Ye Qingfeng frowned, took a step back, and gripped the hilt of his sword.

After the flesh and blood surged out of the ground, they began to coalesce.

Instead of coalescing into the human form they had before, they coalesced into a huge, writhing mountain of flesh.

The mountain of flesh was so high that it almost reached the roof of the main hall, and so wide that it almost filled the entire main hall.

Countless faces appeared on the surface of the mountain of flesh.

Those faces included men and women, young and old, with various expressions—some in pain, some in terror, some contorted in rage, and some in despair.

They were packed one after another, densely packed, layer upon layer, like a wall made of faces.

The mouths on every face are moving.

They are talking.

Countless mouths opened and closed simultaneously, emitting countless sounds that intertwined and buzzed, making Ye Qingfeng dizzy.

He bit his tongue, and the sharp pain brought him back to his senses.

Just then, a voice came from the mountain of flesh.

The sound didn't come from any mouth; it came directly from inside the mountain of flesh, deep and drawn-out, as if it came from the depths of the deepest hell.

"A perfect vessel...suitable for descent..."

Ye Qingfeng's pupils suddenly contracted.

A container? An arrival?

What...is this thing trying to do?

Before he could think any further, the mountain of flesh moved.

Countless tentacles stretched out from the mountain of flesh, each as thick as a human waist, its surface covered with bluish-black blood vessels that were still pulsating.

The tentacles lashed out at him with incredible speed, creating a whistling sound!

Ye Qingfeng dodged one tentacle by sidestepping it and swung his sword at the other.

"clang--!"

The sword clashed with the tentacle, producing a metallic clang!

The tentacle was only cut with a shallow white mark, without even breaking its skin!

Ye Qingfeng's heart sank.

This thing is far harder than the previous Buddha statue.