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"You should make your exit... Old Yang!"

The short sword was retracted, and the brilliance of the Divine Path surged. Almost immediately, all the soldiers recognized it—the ultimate source of their Power of Faith, their Divine Master had returned!

Meanwhile, on the Buddhist Temple’s side, a group of Arhats dimmed without luster. Even though this was a prime opportunity to attack, not a single one dared approach.

"Exit?"

The Buddha looked at Chen Qing, his body slowly disintegrating. This time, the schemes of multiple forces converged, and Chen Qing’s sword had been prepared for who-knows-how-long. Without the Space-Time Jade, he no longer had any hope of survival.

He knew, perhaps... he had truly reached the end.

Where would he go?

The Buddha’s resurrection as a Spiritual Body meant Chen Qing’s sword had already denied him the chance for Reincarnation.

This time... he might truly be dying.

Dead...

Having lived for hundreds of millions of years, he had always resisted this word, even harbored extreme fear toward it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have conceived that final plan to evade the Otherworldly Demon Statues.

Yet now, at the true final moment, he suddenly felt his whole body relax.

The tension in his nerves, which had lasted for countless years, finally unwound.

That feeling... it was so comfortable...

Maybe... he had indeed been caught up in delusions all these years.

"Young man..." The Buddha looked at Chen Qing, his gaze becoming inexplicably complicated. Toward this person who had schemed against him and ultimately killed him, he unexpectedly felt no hatred, only a sense of liberation.

Perhaps after living too long, he had lost too many things?

"You’re willing to cooperate with Old Liu. Do you even know what he did to you back then?"

"I don’t know..." Chen Qing replied calmly, "All I know is that his cooperation is advantageous to me now. If, in the end, I still lose, it’ll simply be due to my lack of skill."

"Is that so?" The Buddha chuckled. "Indeed, if lacking skill, what is there to say? Young people are truly pragmatic."

"Do you have any last words?" Chen Qing asked.

"I..." He actually wanted to ask many things. He wanted to ask why Chen Qing chose to collaborate with Old Liu again. He also wanted to ask why Old Liu was so determined to kill him. As one of the three primary Buddha Lords, deeply rooted in the Buddha Kingdom, during the war’s eve, cutting down one’s own top general—what could he have been thinking?

But now, none of it seemed to matter.

To this day, even he didn’t know if he was still the person he once was. Perhaps he was just a string of memory data. Maybe the real him had died ages ago. Maybe they were all deceiving themselves back then.

Even now, as the memory data neared its erasure, what kind of feeling was that?

When people... die, do they truly vanish entirely from this world?

Chen Qing observed the silent figure without speaking, nor did he disturb him.

He could tell—the perpetually bitter face before him had unexpectedly displayed a faint smile.

It was an expression of immense ease, a blissful calm.

Perhaps... this was the most relaxed moment in his multi-million-year lifespan.

Every second was incomparably precious. He should not interrupt.

As the moments ticked by, Old Yang finally smiled, pressed his palms together, and a ray of golden light transformed into a tiny speck. The speck glinted with a faint brilliance—not dazzling yet incapable of being obscured by any darkness.

Chen Qing squinted and instantly recognized it—it was the Buddha Lord’s Relics!

According to the set rules, when someone from the Buddha Kingdom willingly attained Nirvana, it signified ultimate enlightenment.

Their entire body would transform into Shariputra, leaving behind their sole trace in this world.

Shariputra condensed the life force essence of the Buddha’s entire existence.

They posed no harm but served as a pure legacy—a supreme act of benevolence.

Only a Buddha severed from Reincarnation could produce such Relics.

The Relics, shimmering faintly, slowly drifted toward Chen Qing.

Chen Qing silently received them, his emotions momentarily complex. He had not been close to Old Yang and likely had only heard of his abilities through Old Liu—knowing him as one of the masterminds behind the Third World War.

But as for feelings of hatred or sentiment toward this person, he held none. The action was merely because killing him would benefit Jiangnan.

In the case of a Buddha Lord-level figure dying by his hand, their body and Buddha Bones could be refined into supreme Magic Artifact materials. Extracting their vitality could enable the full revival of the Aquatic Race in the West Sea Dragon Palace.

On top of that, Old Liu had promised him: once the Past Buddha had perished, he could do as he pleased with the Buddhist Temples within Jiangnan’s domain. Only after hearing this commitment did Chen Qing agree to the collaboration.

Unexpectedly, after succeeding, the person willingly transformed into Relics, choosing to complete him.

"Young man, most Buddhist Temples in Jiangnan were once loyal to me. If those Arhats agree to surrender, release them. This old monk wishes you, master, success in reaching the end. If it’s you, perhaps you could forge a distinct path."

Chen Qing paused in thought before collecting the Relics. Then, in a flash, he appeared before his army. Gazing upon the hesitant and fearful Arhats ahead and the muted Buddhist Temples behind them, he spoke:

"Those who submit will not be killed. Your Buddha Lord pleaded for mercy for you. If you are willing to surrender, I will accept. If not, I will let you go. But should you continue to wreak havoc in Jiangnan, I promise—your Spiritual Body will find no chance for Reincarnation!"

All the Arhats froze in place, clenching their teeth tightly.

For countless years, they had never been threatened like this. Even during the Buddha Kingdom’s weakest moments, they had not been driven to such desperation.

Yet today, not a single one dared entertain the thought of resistance.

Three Eras had passed, and throughout, none of the primary forces had lost a King-Level existence. Now... even Buddha Lords could not escape the specter of death.

Could the apocalyptic rumors truly be real?

"Amitabha Buddha..." A Buddhist chant rang out, followed by a towering, barefoot Buddha emerging from the temple.

The Buddha was tall and imposing, entirely unlike the Joyful Buddha Chen Qing had encountered before. This Buddha resembled a giant Vajra—despite his weakened vitality, his mastery of martial intent was unmistakable.

Instantly, Chen Qing understood—this was a War Buddha.

"Chen Qing, Master, long time no see."

Chen Qing returned the gesture. "Master, I am not the Chen Qing of the past, nor do I know you. If you intend to reminisce, save the effort."

"True enough..." The Buddha suddenly chuckled. "Though the genes may be the same, the essence is different. The Chen Qing of old would never tread your path—it was misjudgment on my part."

"Having emerged today, does Master have guidance to impart?" Chen Qing asked directly.

"The Buddha Lord has passed, and this old monk is momentarily adrift. While the Buddha Lord may have attained enlightenment, this old monk has yet to do so. Now, there are questions I’d like the master to resolve."

"And not without recompense," the Buddha smiled.

"If the master can answer my inquiries, the five hundred Arhats of this Buddhist Temple will become yours.

Once their vitality is restored, they are authentic Extraordinary Lives, all seasoned Martial Monks.

Their combat strength ranks among the elite forces of the three primary powers. What do you think, Master?"

Chen Qing was momentarily surprised but soon replied, "If that’s the case, then please pose your questions, Master."