Buzz...
Li Xuanfeng’s gaze swept across the heavens. Though he hadn’t read as many ancient texts as Si Yuanli, he had personally seen a Maha. He drew his white bow back into a full moon once more.
Thump!
The Kongsijiang Demon Bowl had yet to fully manifest when petals began raining down again. The remaining nine Buddhist cultivators didn’t even look back; they had already rushed in, their male and female features suddenly clear. Golden powder fell from their faces; their teeth glinted gold, and they furrowed their brows in rage.
The monk charging at him was fierce, with bulging eyes and pronounced brow bones. Muscles swelled across the face, radiating killing intent. It was a true visage of a wrathful vajra.
Li Xuanfeng's gaze was icy sharp and as piercing as steel. He sensed the arrogance and fear hidden beneath and spoke in a hoarse voice, "Fierce in appearance, weak within!"
He simply opened his hand, and pale-white energy gathered in his palm. He threw a fist forward and three shades of chilling white energy morphed into tigers and leopards that slammed straight into the target.
Boom!
The monk's head exploded with a loud bang. Countless sparkles flew up to try and reform but were instantly dissolved by the golden aura in midair. The headless body stumbled back in defeat.
The man’s eyes were cold as metal, and his other hand swung fiercely.
Clang!
He grabbed the neck of the monk beside him. The monk, covered in gold powder, frantically reached up with six hands to pull at his arm, like a panicked octopus.
Li Xuanfeng’s voice was chilling as he said, "Always putting on a fierce face to scare the common folk..."
His broad hand clenched. The monk’s neck shattered with a crack, and three shades of pale golden energy shot into the sky, kicking the head far into the distance like a ball.
"Monster!"
But the monks’ spell arts had arrived. Countless golden chains swirled down from the sky, interlinking and locking around him, striking bright sparks against his pale-white armor.
Clang...
The Kongsijiang Demon Bowl manifested above him like a colossal mountain. Buddhist cultivators appeared in the distance as they rushed over from afar. The spirit wind that had allowed cultivators to remain airborne dissipated, and they all began descending to the ground.
Only Li Xuanfeng remained in the sky, supported by the Huai River Map.
The Kongsijiang Demon Bowl now looked completely different from before, having grown to the size of a mountain. It was no longer meant to block his arrows, it was meant to stop him from escaping.
Clang!
Golden currents flowed in layers beneath the Kongsijiang Demon Bowl. Spears, halberds, axes, and cudgels fell from the sky and struck Li Xuanfeng's chest with a ringing clang. He stood unmoved as he slowly raised his head.
His gaze sparked a surge of Astral Qi. Each of the four attackers had intricate, eye-blinking patterns on their chests, silk sashes at their waists, and were dressed in resplendent robes gleaming with golden lacquer. Li Xuanfeng caught their weapons with one hand, while the other swept across them with his white bow, unleashing a dazzling wave of sword-like radiance.
Clang!
The metallic ring of the radiance clashing against the dharma artifacts echoed across the battlefield. Several Buddhist cultivators’ expressions changed simultaneously, only to see the man enveloped in pale-white aura reaching out to grab one monk’s arm.
"Build great beams and pillars, burn wood for fuel, seize golden gauze to adorn your body..."
He yanked the monk’s muscular arm off and crushed it to dust as he stepped forward. He drew his bow back in one smooth motion, three streams of white light forming with a thrum.
Three monks casting spells from afar instantly coughed up golden blood as their heads, chests, and abdomens exploded simultaneously. Li Xuanfeng broke free from the golden restraints on his body and blocked the incoming palms of two charging monks with both hands.
"How dare you?!"
Several more monks flew in from both sides, their faces rigid and bitter. Their mouths moved involuntarily, voices righteous and solemn as they shouted, "Fiend! You’ve slain countless lives, lackey of the Demonic Dao! Even if we perish into the Dharma Realm, we will still suppress you, monster!"
Li Xuanfeng firmly suppressed the two monks’ dharma bodies. As their bodies began to crack from the pressure, the image of the battlefield before him was replaced by the ruined remains of Zhenhui Temple on Mount Bianyan.
His voice was icy as he said, "A world cleansed that remains impure, emptiness that is not empty, compassion that is not kind... Temples stretch for kilometers, yet still you cry of demons. Golden bodies thirty meters tall, boasting doctrines steeped in worldly pride..."
His words rang like thunder, drawing the attention of both the north and south. Many Master Monks and Buddhist cultivators looked away. The Kongsijiang Demon Bowl in the heavens trembled as if enraged and released a deafening clamor.
Clang!
The sound echoed beneath their feet, sweeping across the north and south and delving deep into the demonic mist. Si Yuanli was also shaken by the Kongsijiang Demon Bowl and had no choice but to descend to the riverbank. Things had once again gone beyond his expectations. He looked up, and his expression darkened.
"Maha cannot act directly. This dharma artifact can only be summoned by the Master Monks, and thus, it can exert pressure. Nothing more..."
Clang!
The distant monks all looked up, their faces pale as if they’d seen a ghost. They exchanged glances, then simultaneously turned and fled in the opposite direction.
"Something terrible has happened! If we keep flying that way, we’ll surely become one of Maha’s blades!"
***
"Hahahahaha!"
White light blazed beneath the Kongsijiang Demon Bowl light. The white armor on Li Xuanfeng’s body had cracked, and the markings on his face had fractured, but this only made him appear more real. He was no longer like some celestial general, but like Li Xuanfeng himself.
The white bow in his hand had been suppressed by the bowl in the sky, as it struggled dimly. Before him stood the remaining Buddhist cultivators, some missing arms, others without heads, all in tatters. Only eight were left, their radiance flickering, standing silently like shattered statues after a temple collapse. But they now had a more fearsome air.
They exchanged glances, and their voices grew hushed, "He’s not invincible all the time!"
Despite those words, the Buddhist cultivators remained frozen in place, staring at the man who stood with one foot on a broken dharma body. Of the original nine Master Monks of the Way of Emptiness and the six who joined later, only eight of them remained alive.
The strength of the twelve monks of the Way of Emptiness had varied. The disparity had not been all that apparent when forming the grand formation, but the fierce battle that followed had been a thresher. Only the five strongest survived.
"What a fiend... what a demonic presence..."
A broken golden spear remained lodged in the fiend’s chest, flickering between the cracks in his white armor. Its shaft trembled faintly with each breath he took. His sharp eyes and brows landed on them, and he exhaled softly.
The broken dharma body beneath Li Xuanfeng’s foot continued to float there, its head dangling loosely. Li Xuanfeng raised a long brow as he took in the eight monks whose gazes had grown feverish and greedy.
"Kill him!"
"Kill him!"
"Kill him and the position of The Merciful One will be ours!"
Li Xuanfeng calmly held their gaze as he crushed the half-broken dharma body beneath his foot. His hands shot out and grabbed two heads, replete with compassionate expressions. He raised them high, and upon seeing the fear lingering in their eyes, laughed from deep in his throat, "I am no saint either, but this is perfect. Two evils killing each other... and everything ends cleanly!"