Chapter Forty-Five: The Traitor’s Death-Eu só aceitei discípulos por acaso, como eles se tornaram Grandes Imperadores?(Espalhadas como estrelas sobre o rio inteiro.)

With a gentle flick of his arm, Ye Xinghe cast the formidable Sima family warrior away from the sacred land as if discarding something trivial. The warrior’s body traced an arc through the air, accompanied by a piercing scream, before vanishing from sight, thrown far beyond the boundaries of the sacred land.

The remaining members of the Sima clan stood pale-faced, stunned by the scene before them. Their eyes widened, mouths slightly agape, attempting to speak but too afraid to utter a sound. They could only watch helplessly as Ye Xinghe’s body trembled ever so slightly.

They had originally hoped to reap the benefits of this chaos within the sacred land, but never had they imagined Ye Xinghe’s strength to be so terrifyingly overwhelming. One elder of the Sima family thought bitterly that if Ye Xinghe had intervened from the start to aid the Sacred Lord, the Peak Master of Divine Sword Peak might not have stood a chance to resist, and this rebellion might have been quelled long ago.

Ye Xinghe cast a cold glance over the remaining Sima clan members, his voice icy: “If any of you intend to remain within this sacred land, you will shut your mouths and behave obediently. Should a single sound escape again, I will treat you like trash and cast you all out without exception.”

“Do not test my patience, or you will not bear the consequences.”

At these words, the Sima clan trembled even more violently—not out of fear of Ye Xinghe personally, but because of the overwhelming aura emanating from him. In that moment, they were like prey pinned under a hunter’s gaze, daring not to move or breathe, lest they provoke the ominous figure before them and suffer a miserable fate thrown out of the sacred land.

Above, the battle raged fiercely.

The Peak Master of Divine Sword Peak’s eyes were bloodshot, madness overtaking his mind. He could never have expected that the divine weapon he had painstakingly sought for years and refined through countless secret techniques, meant to be invincible and aid his ascent to the rank of Sacred Lord, would prove utterly powerless against the current Sacred Lord.

“How can this be? This divine weapon was forged through years of searching and countless secret tempering methods, meant to be unstoppable and elevate me to Sacred Lord! Why does it lie useless before you like scrap iron?”

The Peak Master roared hysterically, wildly swinging his divine weapon. Waves of furious spiritual energy surged like a tidal wave towards the Sacred Lord, desperate to reverse the tide with this last, frenzied effort.

Yet the Sacred Lord remained composed, effortlessly dispelling every sword energy within the golden halo surrounding him.

He looked down at the maddened Peak Master, shaking his head slightly with a hint of pity in his eyes: “Do you think you can covet the Sacred Lord position through external force? Your ambition has clouded your mind.”

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The Sacred Lord slowly raised his radiant palm.

In an instant, the sky darkened ominously as a vast, boundless power surged forth from within him.

Behind the Sacred Lord, a majestic golden Buddhist figure, towering like a mountain and dignified as a deity, gradually appeared. It stood over a hundred feet tall, radiating dazzling golden light.

The face of this Tathagata Buddhist figure was solemn and majestic, with ears hanging to its shoulders, its gaze both compassionate and authoritative as it looked down upon the frenzied Peak Master below.

It slowly lifted its enormous golden palm.

As the palm rose, the once clear sky was instantly shrouded in darkness. Only the golden Buddhist light from the figure shone like a blazing sun, illuminating the darkened heavens.

Fear unlike anything he had ever known welled up in the heart of the Peak Master of Divine Sword Peak.

He poured every ounce of his spiritual power into the divine weapon in his hands. It flared brilliantly, transforming into a black rainbow streaking toward the golden Buddhist figure of the Sacred Lord.

Yet before the golden palm of the Tathagata, this seemingly powerful black rainbow appeared small and fragile.

With a gentle yet lightning-fast sweep, the golden palm met the black rainbow as though it had collided with an immovable golden mountain. A crisp cracking sound rang out as cracks spiderwebbed across the divine weapon, which shattered like fragile glass into countless fragments that dissolved into the air.

The Peak Master’s eyes widened in terror at the loss of his divine weapon.

Before he could react further, the golden palm of the Tathagata, carrying an overwhelming force like a mountain-crushing tide, struck down heavily.

The Peak Master was engulfed by this immense power, feeling his body drift like a rootless floating weed tossed by a violent storm.

He desperately attempted to marshal the remaining spiritual energy within, resisting this force, but before the absolute power of the Tathagata, his resistance was futile.

With a thunderous boom, the golden palm struck the Peak Master squarely.

The earth trembled violently, and the mountains surrounding the Peak Master collapsed like dominoes, sending clouds of dust swirling to blot out the sky.

---

The Peak Master’s body was hurled into the ground like a cannonball.

A vast, deep crater appeared, within which the Peak Master lay bleeding from all orifices, his clothes tattered and his breath faint.

The Sacred Lord descended gracefully, like a golden ray of light drifting down from midair, landing steadily on the ground.

His robes fluttered softly in the breeze, and the sacred aura surrounding him had yet to fully dissipate.

Deep within the crater, the Peak Master of Divine Sword Peak was broken and battered, blood flowing from his wounds to stain the earth red.

Though his life force flickered weakly like a dying candle in the wind, the unwilling fire in his eyes burned fiercely.

He struggled to raise his trembling arm, but his body had suffered catastrophic damage and could no longer support this final struggle.

A harsh cough erupted, blood spraying from his mouth as his gaze blurred, and the stubborn will to survive faded with the last breath of life, dissipating into the air.

The Sacred Lord stood silently nearby, watching the fallen Peak Master, and sighed softly.

Ye Xinghe looked upon the settled scene with calm composure, lightly clapping his hands, producing a crisp sound.

His voice was low but carried clearly to all present.

“Let us go. It is all over. We have lingered here long enough; it is time to return and cultivate in earnest.”

Just as Ye Xinghe was about to depart, the Peak Master of Spirit Ore Peak dashed forward in a single stride, spreading his arms to block his path.

The Spirit Ore Peak Master smiled broadly: “Lord Ye, please wait. Although today’s events have reached a temporary conclusion, the sacred land has suffered grievous damage, and the people’s hearts are unsettled.”

“If you could remain here to oversee matters, it would surely restore confidence. We humbly hope you will show great mercy and consent to stay.”