Xuandu saw it too. Even with the unshakable Dao heart of a Hunyuan cultivator, he was stunned for an instant.
Sacrifices happened often, especially in Shendao. Usually, a chief god controlled his believers and made them offer themselves up.
But Xuandu could see clearly that although this Quasi-Saint might once have been controlled by a god, he was now free. There was not the slightest trace of control left on him.
That was what made his choice so precious.
Xuandu watched Mu Ling's body gradually turn translucent, unable to do a thing. He needed all his power to suppress Wu Tian and sever the connection between the Dao-Demon Record and the world of Hong Huang.
As Mu Ling dissolved into the Dao and returned to heaven and earth, many beings in the Western Lands came to their senses.
An old monk pressed his palms together. His kasaya was tattered, and he seemed to have no cultivation at all, as though he were an ordinary mortal.
But his eyes shone with extraordinary clarity. Within them seemed to lie the sun, moon, stars, and entire Great Thousand Worlds.
He was one of the oldest Buddhist cultivators, whose lineage could be traced back to the primordial era.
They cultivated neither magical power nor the body, only the Buddha heart. With that heart alone, they could illuminate mountains and rivers for hundreds of millions of miles.
His expression serene, he watched Mu Ling fade into nothingness. Flecks of golden light bloomed across his body, then soared into the sky and entered the Taiji Diagram.
He did not chant Amitabha Buddha's name. Instead, he recited, "Homage to Wu Tian Buddha! Homage to Kinnara Buddha!"
The golden light flickered as it entered the Taiji Diagram. Most of it was still extinguished; only a tiny fraction pierced