The questioner wore spotless monk's robes and sat upright upon a high-grade lotus dais. Golden relic light flowed unceasingly around him; heavenly dragons coiled at his side, their cries clear and resonant. Fairy maidens scattered flowers, and fragrant breezes brushed against the face. He bore an air of lucid ease, free and unrestrained. This man was none other than venerable Rahula, one of Buddha Shakyamuni's ten foremost disciples and the son born to the Buddha when he was still Prince Siddhartha.
"This demonic qi has arrived most strangely. Under all heaven, a Sage's Dao Field should be impervious to every evil, unbreakable by all arts. For such vicious qi to appear so abruptly, this disciple dares conclude that it must be connected to It-Transformed Freedom Heavenly Demon Lord Papiyas."
Before venerable Shariputra's words fell, the void suddenly exploded with a deafening boom, like rolling thunder surging forth:
"Ha ha ha! This little novice monk has some discernment after all, to actually recognize this Demon Lord!"
Laughter surged forth from the boundless void. Demonic clouds churned like a sea, layer upon layer, endless and infinite. Countless heavenly demons gently floated and sank within them, their beguiling whispers like silk threads, piercing through the purity of the Buddha Land and boring straight into the heart.
"Amitabha Buddha."
Shakyamuni softly recited the Buddhist name and pointed into the air with his index finger. With a roar, sweet rain poured down. The rainfall was at once like a downpour and like spring rain moistening all things without a sound, scattering across Spirit Mountain's sacred realm.
The exotic flowers and jade grass, the wondrous blooms of the Purple Mansion that had been entwined in demonic qi, broke free from their murky taint in an instant. Washed clean of all grime, they glimmered all over with