On the Dragon-Slaying Platform, I was executed and became Yang Jian's brother-in-law.

Inside the Crystal Palace of Beihai, the aroma of wine filled the air, but it couldn't conceal the frenzied atmosphere that threatened to overturn the thirty-three heavens.

Su Bai's words did not stop with the phrase "another saint will emerge." Instead, they were like a precise scalpel, ruthlessly dissecting the most hidden and most maddening scar in the prehistoric cultivation world.

"Chan'er, think about those two Western Saints, Jieyin and Zhunti." Su Bai's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he lightly tapped his fingers on the table, making a thumping sound that seemed like a war drum beating in everyone's heart.

"In terms of their origins, although they are born with innate spiritual roots, how do they compare to the Three Pure Ones? In terms of treasures, besides the Twelve-Petaled Golden Lotus of Merit, do they possess any divine artifacts like the Taiji Diagram or the Pangu Banner, which could create heaven and earth?"

Yang Chan subconsciously shook her head. Those two were indeed the poorest among all the saints, and were even often jokingly referred to by Eastern cultivators as saints who "beg for alms".

"If they are inferior, why were they able to become saints?" Su Bai suddenly stood up, his robes fluttering, his voice rising, "They relied on those forty-eight great vows! To put it bluntly, they 'borrowed' from the Heavenly Dao! They promised how they would save all sentient beings and how they would adorn the Buddhist land in the future. They were just drawing a big pie in the sky for the Heavenly Dao, overdrawing their future merits in exchange for two saintly positions!"

"It's like an ordinary person borrowing money from a money lender to do business; before they even make any money, their reputation is already established."

Su Bai's gaze was intense, as if he could see through the river of time: "Those two old men can become saints just by making grand vows and talking. What if we actually fight them?"

"If we could truly turn decay into magic, completely restore the barren western land that has been impoverished for countless eons, reconnect the spiritual veins, and make all living beings prosperous, no longer just domesticated pigs and dogs, but truly peaceful and happy creatures..."

"Such a tangible achievement is paying off a debt to Heaven! It's filling the enormous hole left by the conflict between the Dao and the Demonic Realms!"

"This merit is many times greater than those two empty promises! Even if it were to create another saint, Heaven would have to beg for a reward!"

boom!

If the previous statements were like Mars, then this deduction is like throwing a star directly into the powder keg of the Three Realms.

The Netherworld Blood Sea, in its endless depths.

This is the most filthy and unruly place in the world. Blood waves surge, the stench is overwhelming, and billions of Asuras rise and fall, roaring in the sea of ​​blood.

Inside the Blood God Palace, an old man dressed in a blood-red robe and carrying two swords suddenly opened his eyes. Those eyes seemed to contain mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and killing intent and greed intertwined into a tangible red light that instantly pierced through the netherworld.

Ancestor Ming He!

This ancient powerhouse, who had existed since the time he listened to the Dao at Zixiao Palace, was trembling with excitement, causing the entire Blood Sea to surge with towering waves.

"Become a saint...become a saint..." the Styx Ancestor murmured, his voice hoarse and frantic.

How many years did Styx strive for these two words?

When Nuwa created humans and became a saint, he followed her example and created the Asura race. And what was the result? Although he gained merit, he was still a long way from becoming a saint!

When the Three Pure Ones established their religions and attained sainthood, he also founded the Asura religion, calling himself the Lord of the Styx River. And what was the result? It still didn't work!

He was trapped at the peak of the Quasi-Saint realm for countless eons, watching the six Saints high above him, watching the Heavenly Court and the Buddhist sect take turns in power, and the resentment in his heart had long since turned into a demon in his heart.

"I, the Ancestor, have slaughtered heaven and earth, slaughtered all living beings, and even sought to attain enlightenment through sacrifice, yet I have never been able to find the way in." The Styx Ancestor suddenly stood up, the blood lotus beneath his feet bursting into bloom. "So... so the opportunity lies here!"

"That little brat Su Bai is right! The two Western Saints were just being opportunistic. If I, their ancestor, were to lead the Asura clan into the West, seize that territory, and use killing to stop killing, thus restoring order, that would be acting on behalf of Heaven!"

"The cause and effect of this great rise in the West should rightfully fall upon my head, Styx! I am formed from the filthy blood of Pangu; in terms of lineage and seniority, who else but me?!"

At this moment, the Styx Ancestor's gaze towards the west changed. It was no longer the gaze of someone looking at an enemy, but the gaze of someone looking at their own backyard, filled with naked possessiveness.

Longevity Hill, Wuzhuang Temple.

Here, amidst gentle breezes and bright moonlight, and the rustling of pine trees, lies the sacred site of Zhen Yuanzi, the ancestor of earthly immortals. Normally, the Great Immortal Zhen Yuanzi only worships Heaven and Earth, showing no respect for ghosts or gods, appearing carefree and detached from worldly affairs.

But at that moment, Zhen Yuanzi, who was meditating under the ginseng fruit tree, suddenly had a few silver threads of his whisk snap off with a "snap".

He slowly raised his head, his gaze piercing through the layers of clouds to the scene that Laozi had deduced. His usually calm face revealed an indescribable longing and sorrow.

"To become a saint..."

Zhen Yuanzi murmured to himself, a red figure appearing in his mind. It was his closest friend, the Red Cloud Ancestor.

Back then in Zixiao Palace, Hongyun gave up her seat, missing out on the holy position. Later, she was poisoned by Kunpeng and Styx, dying and disappearing without even leaving behind her true spirit, completely vanishing into the world.

This is a pain that will never fade in Zhen Yuanzi's heart.

Although he was the ancestor of all earth immortals and was said to be on par with the world, he knew in his heart that a quasi-saint was ultimately just a quasi-saint. In the eyes of a saint, he was nothing more than a slightly larger ant.

"If I could become a saint..." Zhen Yuanzi's hand trembled slightly. "A saint understands all things, can reverse the river of time, and can reshape true spirits from nothingness. If I could become a saint, perhaps... perhaps I would have a chance to resurrect my old friend Hongyun?"

Even a one in a billion chance would be enough to drive this ancestor of earth immortals, who had been silent for countless eons, completely insane.

"The Earth Book has moved."

Zhen Yuanzi felt the Earth Book that was with him in his sleeve trembling slightly. It was the pulse of the earth and a feeling of the opportunity to "govern the western land".

"The western land veins are broken. If we use the Earth Book to sort them out and repair them..." Zhen Yuanzi's eyes gleamed brightly. "This merit of the great prosperity of the west, I might as well compete for it!"

The powerful beings of the Three Realms were in turmoil, while the Western Spirit Mountain, the eye of the storm, was a place of undercurrents beneath a seemingly dead silence.

Inside the Great Thunder Temple, the once orderly chanting of sutras had stopped at some point.

The Buddhas and Bodhisattvas sat high on lotus thrones, their faces still showing humility, but sparks flew between their intertwined thoughts.

Western religions have never been monolithic.

Here are the original direct descendants of Jieyin and Zhunti; the three thousand mortals of the Jie Sect who were forcibly converted during the Investiture of the Gods; the traitor of the Chan Sect, Randeng, who joined the group with his own resources; and Maitreya, who was designated as the successor of the "future Buddha".

In the past, people followed Buddha because he had a big fist and was the current ruler; following him meant they could share in the merits of the Journey to the West.

But now, Su Bai has thrown out a bait of "becoming a saint".

It's like throwing a piece of juicy meat into a pack of hungry wolves; the fragile alliance instantly cracked.

A glint of obscure light flashed in the cloudy old eyes of the Dipankara Buddha.

"As a Buddha of the past, I am of a higher seniority than Duobao. I was the vice-leader of the Chan Sect back then, but now that I've entered the Buddhist order, I have to be subordinate to him," Dipankara sneered inwardly. "If the cause and effect of the rise of the West is not solely on Tathagata, then why can't this holy position be mine?"

On the other side, the ever-smiling Maitreya Buddha's smile became somewhat stiff, and a shrewd glint appeared in his narrowed eyes.

"I am the future Buddha. Since it is the future, why wait? If the Tathagata cannot maintain this momentum, then can my future arrive sooner?"

As for the three great bodhisattvas, Manjushri, Samantabhadra, and Avalokiteshvara, although their thoughts were deep and unrevealed, their slightly trembling golden bodies revealed the unease in their hearts.

On the lotus throne, the Buddha felt a chill run through his body.

That feeling came not only from the covetousness of powerful figures like Styx and Zhen Yuanzi from the outside world, but also from the "fellow disciples" who were with him day and night.

He could clearly sense that the atmosphere inside the Great Thunder Temple had changed.

What was originally the power of faith that united everyone and made a concerted effort has now been mixed with countless distracting thoughts—greed, jealousy, ambition, and scheming.

These are what Buddhism often refers to as the "three poisons," yet they are now flourishing wildly right under his nose in this sacred Buddhist site.

Tathagata took a deep breath, trying to suppress the panic in his heart, but he found that the countless gazes cast upon him were no longer the awe of the past, but the look of someone looking at "prey".

Like a pack of hyenas waiting for the old lion king to fall, they will swarm him and tear him to pieces at the first opportunity.

"Su Bai..."

The Buddha gritted his teeth and muttered the name in his heart. This was no evil dragon; this was clearly the demon lord of a chaotic world! With just a few words, he brought the order that had been built up over countless eons in the West to the brink of collapse!

Just as these forces were completely unsettled and about to fight each other for the elusive holy position, Su Bai made a new move in the water mirror scene predicted by Laozi.

He doesn't seem satisfied with merely throwing out this theory; what he wants to do is truly put it into practice and ignite this fire.

Su Bai looked at Yang Chan, a resolute glint in his eyes:

"Chan'er, since this Western land is ownerless, whoever occupies it will prosper."

"Then we won't wait any longer."

"I'm going to the West, to the foot of that sacred mountain, to plant the flag of my Overturning Sea Gang!"