The three sutras fell into Wang Xuan's hands, light as nothing, yet they plunged the entire Great Zen Temple into deathly silence.
The majesty and aura accumulated by this Buddhist sect over a thousand years seemed to have been seized by an invisible hand in that instant.
The abbot pressed his palms together. His arms trembled uncontrollably beneath his cassock as he lowered his head and forced the words from his throat. "Benefactor, the sutras have been handed over. Please leave."
"Correct."
Wang Xuan raised his head, his gaze settling on the abbot before sweeping across the dozens of Great Zen Temple elders in the hall.
That gaze was calm and unruffled, yet it carried the air of looking down from beyond every known realm of this world. It was a level no ordinary powerhouse could possess.
Feeling that gaze, the abbot's heart sank sharply, and the countless thoughts in the depths of his soul instinctively tensed.
"Benefactor, we have already handed over the sutras. What more do you want?" Secret Treasury Heavenly King stepped forward, his Buddhist staff held horizontally before him. Buddhist patterns lit up along its shaft, and the Buddhist Dao rhythm around him was poised to erupt. His face was livid.
Wang Xuan tucked the three sutras into his sleeve and rose to his feet. The rosy light around the carriage suddenly withdrew, and the world became clear again.
Yet the oppressive feeling did not weaken. It only grew heavier.
This was neither the suppression of Dharma Power nor the crushing force of the soul. It was the shrouding pressure of a higher-dimensional Dao rhythm, as though the entire Great Zen Temple and this very world had already been brought under the control of a single thought.
"The sutras are one matter. Great Zen Temple is