"Stop!"
A sigh rang out from within the halls of Holy Buddha Temple. Zaglu emerged, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. As he spoke, he stepped between Yan and Ji Mingming, then looked solemnly at Yan. "Yan Xiaoyi, I know you hold a great deal of resentment toward Qi Yue.
"But he is truly important—vital to the entire Dongfang. Nothing can happen to him, at least not now. If you insist on venting your anger, then treat me as Qi Yue instead."
As he spoke, he closed his eyes and began chanting Buddhist scriptures. His deep, powerful recitation carried an air of sacrifice, as if he had long since made up his mind.
"Boom!"
Yan looked at Zaglu before suddenly slapping him on the head. Zaglu's chanting came to an abrupt halt, and he crumpled to the ground.
Yan was just about to continue onward when the pale-faced Zaglu stood back up and blocked his path again. Though his body was still trembling instinctively, his expression was utterly resolute.
"Do you know what that was just now? Why are you still standing in my way?"
Yan looked at Zaglu, who had once again blocked him, and his expression changed slightly. There was now a trace of emotion in it.
With that earlier strike, he had used his incomparably powerful divine consciousness to pull Zaglu into the mental world under his control, allowing the young monk to experience a completely real death. It could be said that he had truly died once just now.
People were always courageous before they experienced death, but after being on the verge of death—or escaping it—very few could retain that courage and face death again.
Even after experiencing a "death," Zaglu had still chosen to stop Yan again. That faith earned him the right to