The Buddhist Sect's experts had nothing but contempt for these self-righteous fellows, these stubborn, single-minded fools.
Or rather, in their eyes, these fellows were simply idiots whose minds did not work properly.
All that talk of benevolence and morality, good and evil, loyalty and treachery-those were merely things certain people touted to deceive living beings.
The strong devouring the weak was the only truth; placing profit above all else was the only law.
Look at those Sages, those leaders of the Buddhist Sect.
Look at the leaders of the Ten Thousand Races.
Which of them would not sell everything for profit? Which of them would not cast kindness aside for their own interests?
Anyone who was not like that probably could not rise to a leader's position. Who knew how many bones lay buried behind these experts' success?
Sadly, no one knew.
Shakyamuni looked at these people, seeing every expression on their faces with perfect clarity.
Holding a string of prayer beads, he could not help rolling them through his fingers faster.
He had never imagined he would suffer such torment as he did today.
The unwavering resolve of certain fools, certain idiots, and the justice they harbored in their hearts shook him beyond words.
Shakyamuni's heart was a tangled mess.
He felt that everything he did was right. After all, his becoming an expert at the peak quasi-saint stage already proved everything.
Yet he also felt that everything he had done before was wrong. He did not know why, but whenever he looked at Jin Chanzi and the others, that feeling arose: he truly had been wrong before.
But where had he gone wrong?
He did not know.
With his heart in turmoil, he looked at everyone. He needed to seek an answer. "Amitabha. The Ten Thousand Races Alliance