No matter how gorgeously and sanctimoniously the scriptures piled up their flowery words, they could not conceal the reality that the weak were meat for the strong.
Deep within the compassionate golden phantom's eyes lay loftiness and indifference. He would neither spare anyone an extra glance nor withhold one; he simply ignored them completely, only disguising it more deeply on the surface as he focused on seeking what he considered important.
Relying on his sensitivity to incense offerings and faith power, the plump, fair cultivator quickly discovered something.
He silently sighed and recited a few lines of scripture as a farewell.
Only a faint, nearly imperceptible trace of aura remained, proving that he had fallen here. He had not even had time to leave behind a clue. There were far too many suspicious points. With his own strength, he could not have sent his Primordial Spirit across the void and through the world barrier. The entire matter reeked of strangeness. He dearly wished to stay away from this whirlpool, but for various reasons, he had no choice but to investigate it personally. There were naturally risks involved; having enjoyed the benefits of the sect, he had to bear part of its risks.
Today, he represented the sect's dignity. Sneaking about in hiding would damage its majesty, so he manifested his golden body openly and with great fanfare to proclaim his descent.
He had to display the wrath of Vajra with thunderous force.
He had abundant experience handling such matters. Since taking the chief seat, there had been less fighting and killing and more worldly dealings. Both sides exchanged a few harsh words before sitting down to negotiate. Whoever lacked justification suffered a small loss, and after some haggling, the matter was gently set aside.
That was how ordinary disputes between