Laojun was plainly visible to the naked eye, yet not a trace of his aura could be sensed. Even the breeze seemed able to pass through his body. Completely one with heaven and earth, one with nature, he swept his cloudy eyes over Shakyamuni beside him.
"You've come to stop this old Daoist?"
His words were calm, yet Shakyamuni's projection, clearly on the same level, tensed all over. He repeatedly chanted a Buddhist invocation and said helplessly,
"Master's orders cannot be disobeyed. Teacher has fallen into obsession. Perhaps this can resolve his heart demon and allow his state of mind to become flawless once more."
Normally, Shakyamuni's teacher was Burning Lamp Ancient Buddha of the past. Yet Shakyamuni of the upper realm seemed to be Amitabha's disciple.
"A heart demon... Once Buddha and Demon Buddha have become one, where could a heart demon come from?"
Laojun's tone remained placid, but that calm voice and the figure devoid of even the slightest aura seemed to form an invisible pressure, forcing Shakyamuni to retreat again and again.
It could not be sensed, touched, described, or defined.
The way of words was cut off. To speak of it was wrong; to think of it was false.
There was clearly nothing there, yet this strange tearing sensation made Shakyamuni cough up blood repeatedly, his golden body splitting apart.
In the end, he could only sit cross-legged, close his eyes, and continuously chant Buddhist invocations.
Yet even so, he could no longer enter the state of emptiness. Dust clouded his spiritual platform, and his Buddha heart was flawed.
The cracks across his golden body grew ever more severe.
Finally, amid a Buddhist invocation, he exploded into ashes...
"Amitabha! All beings are equal. I ask the Buddha above to aid me!"
Churchill saw Amitabha's terrifying