The Bhagavat departed.
The Pure Land reverted to its former state. Then, an old monk with white hair and a white beard walked up to Lü Yang and bowed respectfully.
"Amitabha."
"Elder Hongyun, our Pure Land suffered countless deaths in this great calamity. We will be closing ourselves off to the outside world in a few days. We ask that you please do not linger in the West any longer."
His tone was steady, and though it still carried the humility expected of a Lower Cultivator, the confidence behind his words was unmistakable. It was clear that with Unity restored, the Pure Land Buddhist Cultivators had regained their nerve. Lü Yang, on the other hand, felt a chill in his heart, even while still in the state of the Fake Golden Position.
'In a place like this, you really can't afford to get arrogant...'
Lü Yang was on high alert. Just then, a streak of Sword Light shot over from the distance, brazenly piercing the Pure Land's airspace. A figure then emerged from it.
