With Saints present, they could no longer fight. The Three Tribes glanced at the Buddhist Sect's remaining defeated troops, then bowed to Zhunti before slowly withdrawing.
Zhunti looked at the disciples who remained, his heart filled with mixed emotions. This scheme against the Human Race had gained him nothing, but at least it had not drawn Nuwa out.
He seemed to have grasped a pattern. As long as he did not act against the Human Emperor and used the Human Race against itself, Nuwa would not interfere.
This time, he had failed, but next time would be different.
As he watched the Three Tribes gradually depart, a flash of killing intent passed through Zhunti's eyes.
"Buddha Mother, we have suffered terribly! We beg Buddha Mother to avenge our dead Senior Martial Brothers!"
The surviving Bodhisattvas and Buddhas all fell to their knees, repeatedly kowtowing to Zhunti as they pleaded.
Revenge? He wanted it too, but his injuries had yet to recover. Besides, the other side had two Saints. How was he supposed to fight them alone? Rush over and offer himself up on a platter?
When Zhunti gave no response, the Buddhist Sect disciples burst into even more heart-wrenching tears.
"Return to the Western Lands!"
Zhunti shot the disciples a fierce glare. These disciples truly had no sense at all. Had they not seen him suffer a loss just now? Why were they still begging like this?
"Buddha Mother..."
Zhunti could not be bothered to listen to their sobbing. With a sweep of his hand, he gathered everyone away and flew toward the Western Lands.
Like master, like disciple. Back then, Zhunti had used this very method to weep and beg for opportunities at Zixiao Palace. Now that the backlash had come for him, these disciples had learned his tricks