Bella's voice transmitted through the phone. Her tone wasn't particularly loud, but the force behind her words was overwhelming.
Aura was something you couldn't see or touch, with no direct connection to personal power.
When the Nine-Bag Elder stood before you, no one dared speak. Was it because of his immense power? No—it was his aura.
This aura came from the social order, from people's reverence, and from within himself.
Right now, Bella's aura was climbing at an incredible rate through just the opening verse.
The Yashida family's country villa was shrouded in an intensely solemn atmosphere. The many bodyguards were all battle-hardened soldiers who'd seen fire and blood, yet even they grew extremely tense, holding their breath, afraid their carelessness might disturb this grave and dignified moment.
Shingen Yashida unconsciously stepped back twice. The various exorcists also retreated, leaving only Max in the center of the space, holding his phone.
Even a fool could see through his facade now. He was clearly relying on some hidden master to suppress the ghost. But no one exposed this charade.
Max could see it clearer than anyone—it was as if an invisible giant hand hung in the air, pressing down directly on the videotape housing the ghost.
The videotape and the notebook beside it felt the strike. Three seconds later, they began fighting back. Mist rose from within the videotape while the notebook began spurting small jets of dark red blood like a fountain.
Max felt his heart about to leap from his chest. He swallowed hard, gripped by unimaginable terror.
Having explored graveyards while watching horror movies and investigated haunted houses, he'd once been a typical fearless American youth. But since meeting Bella and learning how cruel the world really was, fear had taken root.
Just as terror threatened to consume him completely, the Diamond Sutra emitted a crystalline white light, stabilizing his emotions considerably.
Gathering his courage, he rubbed his eyes with his left hand and strained to see. Through the mist, he thought he could make out a deep well, with a white-clothed, black-haired woman slowly climbing up from its depths.
Shingen Yashida narrowed his eyes. He'd witnessed this scene many times before, but always alone or in dreams. Never had it been this clear, visible to everyone around him. This was the first time.
Max, being closest, felt as though the female ghost was less than two meters (six feet) away. She was climbing slowly, but he feared she might suddenly leap out and tackle him.
Seeing the ghost still emerging, he forgot all about maintaining his cover. His life was at stake!
He shouted anxiously, "Boss! Boss, don't stop, don't stop! Hurry, hurry—that thing is almost out! Keep going!"
Holy shit! On the other end of the phone, Bella sat bolt upright in bed. According to her calculations, the opening verse alone should've suppressed the ghost! It didn't work? This spirit was far more powerful than she'd anticipated!
She quickly grabbed the sleeping Sakura Dragon beside her. "Sakura, lend me a bit of your essence. Just a bit—it's to save someone!"
"But I'm still so young..."
"No joking around! This is serious—a life's at stake!"
Even though Sakura Dragon had regressed into a jiaolong, her essential nature remained that of a dragon. Reluctantly wiggling her rear, she separated a small wisp of essence and transferred it to Bella.
What was this? Dragon qi! The dragon qi of the Kunlun Divine Dragon!
Having temporarily acquired dragon qi, Bella's aura surged dramatically once more.
In her past life, some had analyzed that Sakura Dragon was actually Empress Wu Zetian. That was probably over-interpretation, but with that thread of dragon qi, Bella's aura reached its peak. Wu Zetian had personally composed the opening verse, and combined with Bella's psychic abilities and Sakura Dragon's dragon qi, these three elements merged into one. At this moment, she wasn't a princess, dowager empress, or empress consort—she was the Empress herself!
The sovereign who commanded all under heaven. The architect of the Tang Dynasty's golden age.
Inheriting the Zhenguan Reign's foundations and ushering in the Kaiyuan prosperity, ruling for half a century—Wu Zetian's influence on the East was immeasurable.
Bella's aura instantly peaked. Disobey? Iron whips, iron hammers, and daggers await!
As the white-clothed ghost slowly climbed from the well, the villa's lights had flickered like candles in the wind, ready to extinguish at the slightest breath. But as Bella merged with the dragon qi, the lights gained powerful reinforcement. They now blazed bright as day—so intense they were almost blinding.
"Thus have I heard. At one time the Buddha was staying in the Jeta Grove of Anāthapiṇḍada's garden in Śrāvastī, together with a great community of bhikṣus, twelve hundred and fifty in all. At that time, the World-Honored One..."
Bella recited half the sutra. Most of her voice's power was directed at the white-clothed ghost, but even the residual waves caused the villa to shake violently.
The voodoo master from Southeast Asia, his body full of dark arts and parasites, couldn't withstand even the residual power in the voice. The insects living within him all burst simultaneously. Blood covered his entire body—a horrifying sight.
The white-clothed ghost at the epicenter had it worse. She'd nearly climbed out of the well's mouth. The many lives in the villa filled her with intense hatred. Why? Why did they get to live while she had to die? She wanted to kill them—kill them all.
But now, not just Max who was right in front of her, but everyone in the villa could see a golden hand of light forcefully pressing down on her head, pushing her back down.
The ghost's fingers clawed desperately at the well's rocky walls, her nails digging into crevices between stones, every ounce of strength devoted to resistance. Her resentment toward her parents, toward humanity, toward the entire world was thick as boiling water. Yet Bella's side remained ruthlessly firm, the golden hand pressing her head down inch by inch.
The ghost's heart filled with unwillingness and towering resentment, but Bella suppressed her and ultimately sealed the well's opening.
The villa returned to calm. The previous eerie chill and oppressive force seemed to vanish into thin air. Everyone unconsciously looked toward Max standing at the center.
The Diamond Sutra's opening verse and first page had burned completely clean. The notebook that had belonged to Asakawa Reiko crumbled to ash. Bright flames like the morning glow covered the videotape and were dyed with clear ripples. No matter how you looked at it, the evil object and the ghost within had been sealed.
The phone in Max's hand shattered into powder, having served as the conduit between both combatants. If Bella hadn't deliberately maintained it, it would've reached its limit long ago.
The little mustachioed man collapsed onto his rear, gasping for air like a fish pulled from water.
"Master? Has the vengeful spirit been sealed?" In the exorcist group, a young monk asked the elderly monk beside him.
Though the young monk's classical Chinese wasn't strong, he could still recognize the Diamond Sutra. He felt quite excited—never mind that this American had put on airs, in the end it was Buddhist methods that prevailed!
The old monk saw things more clearly. Yes, it was the Diamond Sutra, but it contained very little Buddhist essence. The opponent had used not Buddha, but Dharma.
Still, knowing was one thing—what he said aloud was another.
His expression remained solemn. "Of course. Buddhism is vast and profound. Even the most powerful ghost cannot resist the Dharma!"