Chapter 7: Rulai Buddha attacks! A Buddha realm in the palm? Shatter it with a finger!

The atmosphere of Da Lei Yin Si changed.

It became viscous.

It became heavy.

The auspicious clouds drifting in the air were no longer light; they seemed filled with lead weights, plummeting straight to the ground.

Rulai Buddha gazed at the Six-Eared Macaque pressed to the ground.

The monkey's mouth kept opening and closing.

It kept chattering nonstop, spilling out the original conspiracy.

Every word.

Each was like a poisoned dagger, viciously stabbing into the fortune golden dragon of Fómén.

He must not be allowed to speak further.

If he continues, the grand plan of the Journey to the West will completely collapse.

Fómén will become the biggest laughingstock of the Three Realms.

A flash of resolve welled up in Rulai Buddha's eyes.

The originally compassionate Dharma Aspect now exuded a fierce killing aura.

"Heretical words confusing the masses!"

Rulai Buddha bellowed angrily.

His voice like a great bell and lute, shaking all the arhats present until their eardrums ached.

"Wicked obstacle!"

"Back then I pitied your difficult cultivation and granted you a Buddha position; I never expected you to be backlashed by your inner demon, speaking nonsense here and defaming me!"

Rulai Buddha raised his right hand.

That palm shone with great golden light.

The palm, originally normal size, swelled to meet the storm the moment it was raised.

Ten zhang.

One hundred zhang.

One thousand zhang!

Ten thousand zhang!

In the blink of an eye, this giant palm covered the sky of Ling Shan.

The palm lines were clearly visible, like ridges of intersecting ravines.

Within the palm's center, a world faintly appeared, arising and passing away.

There were mountains, rivers, and streams.

There were countless devotees chanting sutras.

There were endless Buddhist pagodas standing in rows.

A Buddha realm within the palm!

This is Rulai Buddha's signature technique.

It is also the supreme divine ability he used five hundred years ago to suppress Sun Wukong.

This palm strike is not merely to kill the Six-Eared Macaque, this 'blemish'.

Moreover, it is to smash the old Daoist holding a broom, together with the floor of Da Lei Yin Si, into nothingness!

"Die for me!!!"

Rulai Buddha turned his palm over.

The heavens collapsed.

It really collapsed.

A huge shadow fell, and the candles inside Da Lei Yin Si instantly went out.

The fierce wind howled.

Space was compressed, emitting a groan of overburdened explosion.

Five hundred arhats screamed in terror, each producing magical treasures to protect themselves, scrambling and crawling toward the edges of the main hall.

The bodhisattvas Wenshu and Puxian turned deathly pale, joining hands to erect a defensive barrier.

The Six-Eared Macaque at the storm's center had already been frightened into losing bladder control.

He lay on the ground, staring at the ever-closer sky-covering giant palm, his eyes about to pop out of their sockets.

This is to silence him!

"Save me... save me!!!"

The Six-Ears let out a shrill, miserable cry.

However.

That old Daoist pressing his head, however, didn't even lift his head.

Bodhi Patriarch merely lifted his empty left hand lightly.

The motion was very slow.

So slow it was like an old man walking on foot.

He extended a single index finger.

It was a very ordinary finger.

The knuckles were thick, the nails trimmed neatly, and even the fingertips still bore some gold powder from just now tearing the monk's robe.

There was no fluctuation of magical power.

No light‑shadow effects.

Just this simply, lightly tap that descending sky‑covering giant palm.

Lips slightly part.

Spit out two words tinged with sarcasm.

"Is that all?"

A finger touches the palm.

One big, one small.

One heaven, one earth.

The stark visual contrast makes the heart of the distant spying Tai Bai Jin Xing miss a beat.

However.

The anticipated earth‑shattering explosion does not occur.

Puff—

A light sound.

Like a red‑hot iron chopstick thrust into tofu.

That palm‑held Buddha Kingdom, containing the power of a world and claimed to suppress all heavens' deities and demons.

Before Bodhi's withered finger.

Fragile beyond belief.

The golden giant palm is pierced straight through!

The finger, even after being castrated, remains undiminished.

Carrying an incomprehensible sharpness, bearing a domineering force from the Chaos Realm void.

Straight to the clouds!

Boom!

The giant palm shatters.

The Buddha Kingdom world in the palm collapses, countless illusory believers Cànjiào into ash.

"Ah—!!!"

A pain‑piercing Cànjiào comes from the high Liántái.

Rulai Buddha abruptly withdraws his right hand.

In the center of his palm.

A large, translucent hole appears!

Golden Buddha blood, like a breached river, rushes down with a roar.

Each drop that hits the ground scorches it, raising blue smoke.

"My hand… my hand!!!"

Rulai shivers all over from the pain.

It is not merely physical pain.

At the wound, a gray airflow spirals, corroding, preventing his wound from healing.

That is the Great Dao Principle!

It is the Chaos Destruction Principle that supersedes the Heavenly Dao!

The whole venue is Deathly Silence.

Everyone forgets to breathe.

Guanyin Bodhisattva's jade pure bottle clangs to the ground, shattering.

The Willow Sweet Dew inside spills all over the ground, but no one cares.

What did they see?

A finger.

Pierced the Buddha Patriarch's palm‑held Buddha Kingdom?

Is this a dream?

"So this is your trump card?"

Bodhi Patriarch withdraws his finger, places it near his mouth and gently blows, as if dust were on it.

He still presses the Six-Eared Macaque's head.

His feet have not shifted a hair.

"Palm‑held Buddha Kingdom?"

Bodhi looks up, sees the contorted, painful Rulai, and a scornful smile curls at his mouth.

"Even a grain‑of‑rice pearl emits radiance?"

"If I were to summon that old thing, perhaps I'd need an extra finger."

"As for you…"

Bodhi shakes his head.

His eyes are full of disappointment.

"Too weak."

"So weak that I can't even muster the interest to kill."

Rulai covers his bleeding palm, panting heavily.

Cold sweat streams down his hair‑tied head.

He was afraid.

He was truly afraid.

That finger just now, if it had poked not his palm but his brow...

He has already entered nirvana!

"You... who exactly are you?!"

The Tathagata's voice trembled; he roared, fierce on the surface but weak inside.

"You are a Saint's incarnation? Impossible! Saints are not permitted to intervene in the lower realm!"

"What demon god are you?!"

Bodhi did not answer.

He merely held the Six-Eared Macaque, step by step, treading the Buddha's blood covering the ground, walking toward the Liántái.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The footsteps echoed in the hall.

Each step felt like stepping on the hearts of all the Buddhas.

"Who I am is not important."

Bodhi walked to beneath the Liántái.

He raised his head.

His gaze was like a blade.

"What matters is..."

"The suffering my disciple endured, you hypocritical lot, today you must repay it a hundredfold!"

"Do you say it's right?"

"Little Tathagata?"