Is Yang Jian Truly Going to Be Suppressed?

"Hahahaha..."

Hearing King Dizang's words, Yang Jian, trapped within the Myriad Buddhas Formation, suddenly stopped struggling and burst into loud laughter.

That laughter brimmed with endless mockery and coldness.

"So after going around in such a huge circle, this was what you were waiting for!"

Yang Jian's laughter abruptly ceased, and his gaze turned incomparably sharp.

"You want me to let go of my hatred and become a monk with you? Then send my mother to your so-called Paradise of Ultimate Bliss, to become a puppet at your mercy?"

"King Dizang, you really have this scheme of yours calculated to perfection!"

Yang Jian's mind was crystal clear.

He understood in an instant.

From beginning to end, these people had never intended to help him.

They had merely set their sights on his Quasi-Saint cultivation and his unyielding will, wanting to convert him and turn him into a useful watchdog for their Western Teachings!

Just like back then, when Saint Zhunti had wanted to convert the disciples of the Sect of Interception—the same recipe, the same flavor!

"Benefactor, your demonic thoughts run too deep. You cannot be reasoned with."

Seeing that Yang Jian not only failed to appreciate his kindness but even spoke so disrespectfully, a trace of anger finally appeared on King Dizang's compassionate face.

"Since that is the case, This Seat has no choice but to employ demon-subduing methods today!"

He struck his khakkhara against the ground, and the entire Myriad Buddhas Worship the Patriarch Grand Formation blazed with radiant light. Boundless Buddhist power transformed into golden chains that wound toward Yang Jian, seeking to suppress him completely.

"Demon-subduing methods?"

Hearing those four words, Yang Jian trembled with rage, nearly coughing up blood.

He stared fixedly at King Dizang's compassionate face, the fury and ridicule in his heart surging