Chapter 228

Then she flipped her palm over and slapped it downwards.

That pure white, slender hand reached out from the black crown atop Sita's head, supporting the vast, empty will.

This prevents it from making any further progress, and from further influencing the minds of Sita.

Sita there, stunned, as an ancient song suddenly echoed in her mind, "Sarkaz, Sarkaz, whose grace is it that crosses the desert?"

Before them appeared a hazy female figure dressed in a long linen robe, holding a shepherd's crooked cane, walking at the forefront.

Everywhere was shrouded in hazy, gauze-like shadows.

Behind her, however, are countless followers.

Finally, they crossed the Underworld River and emerged from the reeds where the dead lived.

The woman with the cane turned around and seemed to say something.

Sita saw among them the young the Exile, whose expression was devout, with tears in his eyes and a smile on his lips.

That must have been a very hopeful and optimistic statement. Sita didn't know.

When Sita saw that figure, he was already overwhelmed by ignorance and shock.

—This is a girl with long flaxen hair and dark green eyes.

During the first ten years of Sita's life, this young woman was the Lord she revered most.

She is the "Patriarch Bodhi"!

Sita as Sita was speechless with shock, the girl surrounded by the crowd suddenly raised her face and looked in their direction.

Sita felt for no reason that she was looking at him.

The moment the thought arose.

In the scene, the girl's words suddenly became clear and distinct, resounding like a great bell in Sita's ears, in his heart, and deep within his bones!

"Abandon your animalistic heart and sever the root of evil. From the mundane to the sacred, you will ascend to the true path."

"If one breaks a major precept, one may fall into the abyss. One's flesh will be removed and one's bones returned, and one's body will be reborn in the Pure Land."

Warm blood flowed from the corners of Sita's eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. She involuntarily opened her mouth and let out a struggling cry of pain from between her lips and teeth.

The bestiality that resided within her body and mind let out a terrible howl, but it was quickly drowned out by the sound of the oath being recited.

The phantoms of the five Demon King turned around in unison, and a struggle appeared on their faces, which were as calm as corpses.

The Demon King vanished swiftly, like sand paintings scattered by a gust of wind.

At this moment, Rama's destiny began to peel away from her.

Sita turned back into Sita.

"If one breaks the great precepts, one may fall into the abyss! One's flesh will be removed and one's bones returned, one's body will be forsaken with the Bodhi tree!"

Amidst a sound reminiscent of bells and drums ringing out, the slender, white hand slowly turned and then slapped downwards.

Smack

Even Hanuman, who was far away, could hear the sound clearly.

First, the Golden Ring hanging high behind Sita's head instantly became dull and gray, and then fell from the sky, smashing to pieces on the ground.

Next, the sword she held in her hand and the fire wheels she stood on also gradually developed cracks and were eventually destroyed.

The Bow of Victory engraved on his arms also dimmed, as if it were just paint imprinted on his arms, no longer possessing any divinity.

In the blink of an eye, Sita remained of Sita was the Red Ribbon wrapped around his body and his last remaining spear. But even these two were rapidly becoming fragile and decaying.

After doing all this, the hand slightly lifted and then disappeared again.

But both Sita and Hanuman knew that Hebe was observing the area, and that hand could strike again at any moment.

Hanuman gazed at the girl before him, now standing firmly on solid ground, tears welling in his eyes. He wanted to rush forward and embrace Sita, but she stopped him.

The girl before me, draped in Red Ribbon, once again displayed emotions of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness on her face. The very essence of her hatred and delight had been unearthed from the depths of her bones. The numbness that had clouded her mind and body was now blown away by the wind, and boundless vitality burst forth along with the blood flowing from her face.

She opened her mouth, trembling:

"Senior brother..."

Hanuman's eyes widened in horror. He would rather see Sita be killed by his master than suffer such torment.

But the girl called out urgently, "Senior brother!"

Hanuman raised his head tremblingly and responded.

Sita raised her spear with both hands, her eyes fixed on Hanuman: "Brother, let's fight."

"Good."

The spear and the iron rod clashed.

On the battlefield, amidst ruins and piles of bones, two fellow disciples from the same school once again began their battle.

This time, they no longer soared through the air or burrowed into the earth, nor did they display any extraordinary abilities. The two were simply fighting with weapons, and although the scale of their battles was not as grand as that of the Kshatriya' duels, the danger was far greater than before.

This brutal fighting seems to never end, but the end often comes unexpectedly.

The gun in Sita's hand broke.

Hanuman's iron rod swung past the side of her head, making a dull cracking sound.

The girl stood still, then fell straight down.

Hanuman caught her, preventing her from making direct contact with the ground.

Sita opened her mouth like a fish out of water, breathing heavily, as if to buy herself a few more seconds of clarity.

"Senior brother! Senior brother... you won beautifully, I really can't beat you..."

Hanuman tried to speak, but Sita interrupted him.

"Senior brother, all of this is my own fault... Before I descended the mountain, the Patriarch said, 'I will inherit Rama's destiny and reverse Sita's fate, for which I will risk my life...'"

Back then, I was not afraid of failure, nor was I afraid of death...

"But the patriarch was wrong."

Sita chuckled. "I'm still... not afraid of death."

"Senior brother, the ancestral master has carefully nurtured us so that we... will become the blades in her hands."

"I have nothing to complain about, because everything I have comes from the ancestor. It is my own fault that I... forgot."

"But senior brother, you have a choice. The patriarch promised you that you can return to the mountains."

Sita, with a sudden burst of strength, reached out and grabbed Hanuman's arm. "I, I, I've always been jealous of you..."

She stared intently at Hanuman, then collapsed limply, only soft murmurs escaping her lips.

"Master, I want to go home."

With a thud.

The Red Ribbon wrapped around the girl's body suddenly tightened, then drifted diagonally towards the sky, transforming into a vibrant sunset.

In the increasingly gloomy sky at the end of this century, this is the only magnificent color.

A surge of power was coursing through Hanuman's body—indestructible, unerring, and oblivious to obstacles.

As Sita gave her body to Bodhi, the three blessings that had once made her invincible now belonged to Hanuman.

Hanuman knelt on the ground, watching as a pure white hand scooped out two pills of different colors from the clouds.

Hebe's calm yet weary voice rang in Hanuman's ears.

"I could not save Sita's body; after she was crowned, her body was already a demon."

As Hebe withdrew her hand, the door formed by the clouds and mist opened slightly.

To Hanuman's astonishment, the dilapidated and crumbling Fangcun Mountain appeared before him.

The inscription on the stele, which reads "Spiritual Terrace, Square Inch Mountain, Slanting Moon, Three Stars Cave," is also damaged and incomplete.

The once blessed land is now desolate, as if it had survived a terrible war.

"Master, you—"

"Each contributes their own strength and performs their own duties."

Hebe's calm yet resolute voice rang out, "Since I am your teacher, I have no reason to let you bleed while I enjoy the fruits of your labor. Come back soon, Hanuman, the Vedic Age is coming to an end, and I cannot hold on much longer."

"Master, I don't understand."

Hanuman slowly walked towards the cloud-shrouded gate. "Sita's duty is to unify Bharata; you, on the other hand, face an enemy that neither of us can imagine. And what about me?"

"What am I destined to do?"

Hebe gazed at the fluttering leaves of the Book of Ages before her. "No. For Sita, there is indeed destiny. For myself, it is 'I want to do it this way.' But for you, I have never made any arrangements, just like the monkey in the story I told who did not believe in destiny or life and death."

"So that's how it is."

Hanuman laughed.

He walked to the door that Hebe had opened and clasped his hands together in a gesture of respect.

"Hanuman, come back."

Hebe urged him one last time.

"No, Master."

Hanuman raised the iron rod in his hand, turned around, and looked at Bharata was all black and looked like the end of the world.

At the edge of this world stands a snow-capped mountain that is forever pure white.

It has many names.

Holy Land Kailasa. Holy City of Kashi. Pure land of Shangri-La.

According to legend, Brahma and Mahadeva Shiva reside atop it, their bodies rotating and intertwining like a wheel.

They continuously promote the Dharma, keeping the Bharata world running endlessly.

In other words, the snow-capped mountains are the embodiment of the Dharma.

"Master! I finally understand."

Hanuman said, "The key is not destiny, but 'what I want'."

"From the very beginning, I admired Great Sage Equal to Heaven Wukong, the Sun Wukong King, and hoped that I could become a great person like him."

"But now I understand that the reason why the Great Sage Equal to Heaven is great is because his weapon is always aimed at injustice."

"And in this Bharata... all injustices stem from this bullshit of the true Dharma."

Hanuman soared into the sky, towards the distant, glorious snow-capped mountains.

His figure was solitary and magnificent, like a shooting star that flew against the current and never returned.

"I will overcome the greatest injustice in the world."

Chapter 293 Entering the Pure Land, Smashing the Lotus Platform with a Stick.

Have you ever seen a vision of the end of the world?

—The earth folds, storms rage, volcanic lava erupts, crimson Meteorite pierce the clouds from the sky, and the Vast Sea churn endlessly.

Or perhaps it was a case of infighting, the decline of civilization, and the survivors living like animals, finally abandoning their intelligence after enduring thousands of years of torment, and becoming pure beasts.

The end of the world sometimes comes fiercely and swiftly, leaving no room for refusal. Just like the Ennead disaster in Egyptian lands, or the desolation of Atlantis.

In Bharata, however, the end of the world came silently and imperceptibly. Apart from a handful of people who were aware of it, the rest were completely unaware of it.

They were like duckweed tossed about on a flood, seaweed drifting with the tide, and leaves swaying and turning in a gale... Because they were in it, they did not notice that the Vedic Age had come to an end.

At this moment, Bharata is like a painting, and all the people, things, and events—the living and the dead—are like patterns on the painting, being rolled up as the painting itself closes.

But, oh dear.

In this chaotic world where the end is nigh, under the horrified gaze of the immortals, and under the silent watchful eyes of Hebe, Sita, and Yang Pill.