"Junior brother!"
The instant Zhunti's Dharma Form shattered and Sage Blood stained Chaos, a grief-stricken, urgent cry rang out from the distant west.
Immediately afterward, a golden Buddha Light, vaster, more compassionate, and more substantial than Zhunti's, tore through spacetime and descended upon the battlefield.
The Twelve-Grade Golden Lotus of Merit appeared across the sky.
Upon the Lotus Throne, Daoist Jieyin's eternally sorrowful face was now filled with anxiety and anger.
He swept his sleeve, and a gentle yet irresistible force swept up Saint Zhunti, whose body was collapsing, sheltering him within the Merit Golden Lotus's protective golden light.
"Amitabha."
As Saint Jieyin looked at the hideous wound in Zhunti's chest and his flagging aura, the corner of his eye twitched violently. The fury in his heart almost burned away his sorrowful expression.
He raised his head, sweeping his gaze over Kong Xuan, Yang Jian, and Nezha, his voice carrying murderous intent he could not suppress.
"Young friends, weren't you a little too heavy-handed?"
"Heavy-handed?"
Nezha shouldered the Fire-Tipped Spear and grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth. His smile looked arrogant from every angle.
"Old monk, that's a funny thing for you to say."
"Your Western Teachings people came sneaking around our Eastern Land, stealing and swaying people's hearts. Our senior brother caught them and cleaned house. Was that wrong?"
"Your junior brother here didn't bother asking right from wrong. A lofty Sage, he tried to kill our senior brother and forcibly convert him. That wasn't heavy-handed?"
Nezha raised a hand and pointed at Zhunti.
"Now he couldn't beat the three of us and got a beating, so you come running out to say we were heavy-handed?"
"What kind of reasoning is that!"
"If you ask me, you Western Teachings people don't just have black hearts. Your skins are