Chapter 1558: Five Finger Mountain

Upon seeing Ye Chen prop up the giant mountain, Fo Zu's manifestation said, "I, Buddha, am merciful."

He waved his hand, releasing a swathe of Buddha light that carried a Buddhist scroll. The scroll was inscribed with the six-character mantra of Buddhism and hovered over the giant mountain.

Immediately, the giant mountain grew heavier, its pressure intensifying.

"I don't need your mercy!" Ye Chen roared, his golden vital energy surging, yet his legs slowly bent under the weight, on the verge of kneeling.

"Hold on!" The cultivators from all sides clenched their fists tightly, offering mental support since they could not help physically. They all held the Archaic Saint Body in awe and did not want this unyielding lineage to be suppressed here.

However, heroes eventually fade. Ye Chen had exhausted the last of his Sacred Bone power and was now too weary in his old age to withstand the Buddha's suppression any longer.

With a tremendous boom, the eight-thousand-zhang giant mountain that Ye Chen had been holding up crashed down, shaking the earth violently. Ye Chen was suppressed, unable to rise, his earth-shattering roars echoing endlessly through the heavens.

Ah!

The cultivators from all sides sighed and shook their heads, a profound sorrow welling up in their hearts. The hero had grown old. No matter how unyielding or defiant he was, he could not escape the Buddha's suppression this time. He had failed to create another legend.

In the sky, Fo Zu's manifestation retracted its myriad golden lights and slowly dissipated, transforming into a wisp of mental energy.

The world fell into silence, with only blood mist drifting through the air.

Far off, that mountain resembled the five fingers of a hand. It was the palm of the Buddha, named by people from all sides as Wuzhi Shan.

More and more people gathered, surrounding Wuzhi Shan to observe, while devout believers knelt in worship of the Buddha's decree.

"Last night, something like this actually happened," exclaimed a cultivator who had arrived later, unable to hide his astonishment.

"We saw it with our own eyes—Feng Xian and the others were slain, and we also witnessed the Saint Body being suppressed by Fo Zu."

"What a man of iron will! He withstood Fo Zu's pressure and slaughtered Feng Xian and his group completely."

"Defying Shakyamuni's tribulation, yet still being suppressed by the Buddha—it must be karma!" Someone sighed.

At the base of Wuzhi Shan, it was dark and desolate, devoid of light.

No one knew when the sound of iron chains clashing began to echo.

The noise came from an ancient altar, where four copper pillars stood, etched with dense Buddhist runes.

Ye Chen was chained to the altar, his hands, feet, waist, and neck all bound by cold iron chains.

His hair was disheveled, his body covered in blood, like a condemned prisoner. His aged eyes were murky and dim, devoid of light.

Suddenly, he raised his old hand and touched his eyes.

His magical power was sealed, and even his Immortal Eye was forbidden. Even if he awakened the Heavenly Dao, he could not escape this mountain.

"I don't need your mercy," his voice was hoarse and weak, laced with weariness and age.

The place was dark and lifeless, without light or living beings. The elderly Ye Chen could not help but curl up against the cold.

Outside the mountain, more people arrived, letting out involuntary sighs.

For nine consecutive days, figures continued to come and go around Wuzhi Shan, waves of people arriving, drawn by its fame.

Senior cultivators were full of admiration, and young ones were numerous, all gazing at the mountain with reverence and admitting they could not compare.

"He is a peerless hero," said a young female cultivator, her beautiful eyes brimming with tears, as women often admire heroes.

The person sealed inside had forged countless legends along his path. Even suppressed, he remained worthy of respect.

In the distance, another group arrived—over a dozen figures cloaked in black robes, all with tears in their eyes.

These were the reincarnated ones who had not heeded Ye Chen's command to leave Xuan Huang. After wandering, they had all returned.

As soon as the dozen landed, they summoned their life-bound weapons, awakening their divine power, and madly bombarded Wuzhi Shan.

"These kids must have water on the brain!" exclaimed the surrounding cultivators with sighs. "The strongest among them is only a Quasi-Saint, yet they think they can break Fo Zu's seal?"

"They've probably been kicked by a donkey—such overconfidence."

"At this rate, it would take eight hundred years to break it."

"Wanting to save the Saint Body from the mountain—they must be Ye Chen's old friends or relatives," someone pondered.

The dozen reincarnated ones ignored the surrounding comments and continued their relentless assault on Wuzhi Shan.

However, their attacks were too weak. After bombarding for three hours straight, they had not shaken the mountain in the slightest.

"Stop," Ye Chen awoke in the mountain and opened his aged eyes. Even through the mountain body, he could see outside, and he used his divine sense to command them to cease.

"Saint Lord, we will save you," the dozen reincarnated ones said, their eyes filled with determination.

"Leave Xuan Huang," Ye Chen's voice was extremely hoarse.

"We will return," the dozen reincarnated ones obeyed the order, stopping their attack and turning to leave.

Having witnessed the dominance of Fo Zu's seal, they knew clearly that with their strength, they could not break it.

Though they could not, others might. They needed to seek help to rescue Ye Chen.

Gazing at the departing reincarnated ones, Ye Chen's eyes blurred, as if he could see the vast mountains and rivers through the illusion.

Over two hundred years had passed in the flow of time, and he longed for home.

He did not know if he could hold on until Da Chu's return, for he was already in his twilight years, with pitifully little lifespan left.

Outside the mountain, the sky rumbled again, like thunder.

Clouds rolled across the heavens in all directions, shaking the firmament, as if thousands of troops were charging.

Indeed, it was thousands of troops—some driving war chariots, some treading flying swords, some riding spirit beasts—forming a vast, dark sea that blanketed the sky.

Upon closer inspection, they were the experts from Tai Qing Gong, Zhi Zun Cheng, Piaomiao Gong, Tian Fa Sheng Di, Yu Hua Shen Chao, Cang Ling Dian, and Ri Yue Shen Jiao, all with murderous aura piercing the sky.

"What a massive formation," the spectator cultivators changed color and quickly retreated, fearing the aftermath.

"They fled in the night before, and now they're returning together."

"Clearly, they're after Ye Chen."

"Everyone knows his Sacred Bone power is depleted and he's suppressed, so they dare to come. If he still had his previous strength, they'd be wiped out no matter how many arrived."

"At least a hundred thousand strong," someone marveled.

"They might actually break Wuzhi Shan. With Ye Chen in his current state, if the seal breaks, he'll face certain death."

As they spoke, the encirclement arrived, spreading across the land and filling the sky like a black ocean, completely surrounding Wuzhi Shan with earth-shaking momentum.

Indeed, there were over a hundred thousand, their formation incredibly grand.

"Ye Chen, you have your day too," the Holy Lord of Tai Qing Gong laughed wildly without restraint, his eyes full of malice.

The Holy Lords of the other six factions were the same, grinding their teeth, eager to rush in and tear Ye Chen apart.

Ye Chen remained silent, quietly observing those ugly faces, feeling a wave of sorrow in his heart.

Over two hundred years ago, the ninety million cultivators of Da Chu had fought to the death to protect the common people, only to be hated by these very people. Such irony brought a mix of sadness and laughter.

"Attack for this king! Blast open the seal of Wuzhi Shan," shouted the Holy Lords of the seven factions from outside the mountain, raising their arms and pointing their swords at Wuzhi Shan.

At once, the absolute killing arrays in the surrounding skies activated, radiating divine power and targeting Wuzhi Shan.

The over hundred thousand cultivators also positioned themselves in all directions, their weapons humming, arrays shaking, and various secret techniques unleashed, all carrying destructive force aimed at collapsing Wuzhi Shan.

Hundreds of thousands of divine beams fired simultaneously, striking the mountain body.

Such a scale of attack would terrify even a Great Saint—if it hit one, they would likely perish.

Yet, the combined effort of over a hundred thousand cultivators failed to shake Wuzhi Shan, not even dislodging a single stone.

"Keep attacking! Blast it relentlessly," the Holy Lord of Qi Family roared in fury, his voice thundering as he waved his killing sword again.

The over hundred thousand cultivators attacked like mad, using divine abilities, weapons, secret techniques, and arrays without regard for cost, not stopping until it was shattered.

The booming resounded through the heavens, echoing endlessly.

Cultivators who had left earlier returned one after another.

Everyone wanted to see if the attack of over a hundred thousand could break Fo Zu's seal.

Looking out, the surrounding hills were filled with spectators watching the spectacle, hands clasped behind their backs.

Many set up large iron pots on the hills, eating meat and drinking wine while enjoying the show.

"I bet nine days—the seal will break." Some eccentrics even set up gambling tables, wagering in broad daylight.

"Three days at most—with over a hundred thousand people!"

"Fo Zu's seal isn't something that breaks easily. I bet my entire fortune—it'll take at least half a month."

"Come on, come on, selling weapons here. Miss this village, and you won't find such good weapons again." Others went further, setting up street stalls outside.

Sure enough, stalls sprang up—selling pills, secret scrolls, and more, all flocking in with a keen eye for business.

Tea stalls and wine shops followed, and some with great abilities even built a tavern, doing decent business.

What a scene! A single Wuzhi Shan had turned as lively as an ancient city.

However, after one day, the seal remained unbroken.

Two days later, Wuzhi Shan still stood firm.

Three days passed, and it was still intact.

Time slipped by—four days, five days, six days. Day after day, the seven factions attacked more fiercely, yet they could not shake Wuzhi Shan or break the seal.

It was not until the end of the first month that the seven Holy Lords ordered a halt, their faces extraordinarily grim.

With the command given, the over hundred thousand cultivators slumped to the ground, their faces pale and exhausted, eyes bloodshot and spirits drained.

The spectators, who had watched for a whole month, were also rubbing their eyes in fatigue.

"I've got nothing better to do, watching this for a month," someone grumbled as they got up and left.

"Over a hundred thousand cultivators couldn't break the seal in a month—shameless!" An old-timer blew his beard in anger.

"Let's go, what a waste of time." Once one person left, groups followed, all with darkened expressions.

Thus, whether drinking, eating, setting up stalls, gambling, flirting, or joking around, they left one after another, string after string heading in all directions.

The vast expanse of heaven and earth, crowded just moments ago, emptied quickly, leaving the place much quieter.

"Go," the Holy Lord of Tian Fa Sheng Di said coldly, turning first and leading his forces away.

The Holy Lords of the other six factions also gave orders with dark faces, slinking away with their people.