Seeking One's Own Death

In the clear blue heavens, streaks of Flowing Light shot like shuttles, tearing through the sky in an instant.

Three thousand immortals poured out of Northern Continent, throwing heaven and earth into turmoil!

Amid the deathly silent marshes, upon a withered tree standing in the water, a white-robed monk sat cross-legged and barefoot. His fair, immaculate hand slowly rolled the prayer beads. Though he appeared tranquil, his thumb exerted a little force, leaving an indentation in one of the beads.

He raised his head, and the Flowing Light reflected in his profound eyes.

It had been many years since the Three Immortals Sect had made such a display. They had emerged in full force, swarming toward the other continents like locusts, their bodies radiating greedy ferocity, as if they intended to scrape away even a layer of soil from foreign lands.

Clearly, Northern Continent alone could no longer fill these immortals' stomachs.

They were restless, preparing to lay hands on the lands sheltered by Mount Sumeru's Buddhist light.

This tribulation struggle had already intensified beyond anything anyone had anticipated.

Yet none of this had anything to do with the Great Freedom Pure World Bodhisattva. Southern Continent had yet to breach the Divine Dynasty's defenses, and Southern Sumeru had not truly entered this great tribulation.

The reason they had fallen into such an awkward situation lay entirely with him alone.

Therefore, he had to give Southern Sumeru an explanation.

Pure World Venerable had thought that, after capturing Taixu True Lord, all the mysteries would finally come to light. He had not expected that this arrangement would not only bury every Bodhisattva who had followed him to Northern Continent, but would also cost him a handy meditation staff.

More than anger, he felt unable to understand it.

The Venerable did not know