The God and Buddha are actually me

"Five Hundred Arhats Demon Suppression Picture?"

Hearing this name, not only Zhang Jiuyang, but even Yue Ling showed a strange look, and had never heard that there was such a painting in Baiyun Temple.

Tongji explained: "The painting saint and the founder of my Baiyun Temple are good friends. Before he disappeared, he specially left this picture to the founder. Of course, this matter is a secret of my temple, please don't spread it."

If it weren't for the fact that Zhang Jiuyang might be the descendant of the painting saint, and he helped Qiangwei overcome fear, Tongji would not reveal this secret.

After all, the "Five Hundred Arhats Demon Suppression Picture" is used to guard the forbidden area, and the forbidden area is the most sacred place in Baiyun Temple, with extraordinary significance. Except for the abbot, even he, the head of the Demon Subduing Academy, can only guard it outside and cannot enter.

This is why he was so shocked and angry when he knew that Venerable Gesang had entered the holy land.

"Okay, as long as it is the painting saint's legacy, thank you Master Tongji."

Zhang Jiuyang smiled and saluted, but he was thinking silently in his heart. Seeing Tongji's hesitant attitude when he spoke, the "Five Hundred Arhats Demon Suppression Picture" might have some unusual meaning.

The key to the Black Sky Plan is to find the Huashou Gate, and according to the two-faced Buddha, the Huashou Gate is in the Baiyun Temple, so the Baiyun Temple can have a long-lasting atmosphere for thousands of years.

Could the holy land mentioned by Venerable Gesang be related to the Huashou Gate?

"It's just that the five hundred Arhats have been guarding the painting for thousands of years, and their tempers are a bit irritable. If they offend Mr. Zhang, please forgive me."

Thinking of the power of the painting, Tongji reminded worriedly.

Even he, the head of the Baiyun Temple, was looked down upon by the five hundred Arhats at the beginning, but later they slowly developed a friendship.

Zhang Jiuyang is unpredictable, and his wife Yue Ling is so tough. If a conflict occurs at that time, he will be very embarrassed to be caught in the middle.

"Don't worry, we are young people and won't argue with old men."

Zhang Jiuyang smiled faintly, but there was a hint of expectation in his heart.

I wonder what surprises the five hundred arhats can bring him?

...

A-choo!

On a certain nameless ancient peak in Baiyun Temple, surrounded by vast sea of ​​clouds and rosy clouds, it was like a fairyland. On the silent and deserted peak, a sneeze sounded suddenly.

In the mural, the sleeping arhat opened his hazy eyes, and there was a hint of drunkenness in his voice.

"Strange, I seem to dream that the master is back."

The wine god arhat seemed to be drunk. When he heard the word "master", he suddenly cried loudly, and then the surrounding wind whistled, blowing away the sea of ​​clouds.

The white-browed arhat sighed and said, "Don't talk nonsense, wine god, you should drink less wine. What kind of words are monks with alcohol on their bodies?"

Although he refuted, there was a hint of sigh in his voice.

"If the master is still here, why didn't he come back to find us? Does he not want us anymore?"

"Okay, okay, stop crying! If you cry again, I will let ghosts bite you!"

The ghost-catching Arhat scolded.

Dang!

In the mural, the Arhat who lifted the tripod suddenly put down the heavy tripod in his hand, shaking the entire stone wall slightly, and there was some indignation in his voice.

"What do you have to complain about? The master painted me holding the tripod. I have held this tripod for thousands of years, but you are so good, drinking and sleeping!"

The Arhat who held the bell snorted: "You are just holding a tripod, but I have to ring the bell every day. How about we switch?"

The originally silent mountain suddenly became very noisy, and the Arhats quarreled and became more and more angry.

Even if it is a painting, guarding it in one place for thousands of years, that kind of boredom is very torturous.

At this moment, a majestic and majestic voice sounded.

"Silence, someone is coming."

Instantly, all the sounds disappeared, the three-eyed arhat opened his eyes, the long-eared arhat kept shaking his earlobes, and the sounds from hundreds of miles around entered his ears.

But with their magical powers, they didn't find anything.

But no one would question the words of Tianlong Arhat. As the leader of the five hundred arhats, Tianlong Arhat's magical powers are far superior to those of other arhats. Even the painting saint once said that this painting took ten points of effort, and Tianlong accounted for nine points.

In Buddhist legends, Tianlong Arhat is one of the Buddha's direct disciples, who has half a foot in the realm of Bodhisattva. He has subdued the Dragon King and has unfathomable magical powers. If it weren't for his strong murderous nature, he might have become a Buddha.

"You are also a master. Since you are here, why do you hide your head and show your tail?"

Tianlong Arhat asked again, and the loud Buddhist sound echoed in the mountains and valleys, which was both a warning and a secret message.

Obviously, the strength of the person in the dark was so high that he, who had the strength of the sixth realm, had a great sense of crisis.

However, Tianlong Luohan soon discovered that the surroundings seemed to be shrouded by an invisible formation, isolating all sounds and not being able to travel far.

A figure slowly appeared in the void, from transparent to solid, as if reflected from another world, and vaguely seemed to have a hint of Zen.

Not here, not on the other side, and not in the middle.

He was covered with a black robe, and there was a layer of clouds and smoke surrounding his body, blocking all peeping, and only a vague figure could be seen.

The wine god Luohan woke up from the wine, the sleeping Luohan got up, the white-browed Luohan frowned, and the two Luohans holding the tripod and the bell held the magic tools in their hands tightly, waiting.

The five hundred Luohans were all solemn and majestic, pretending to subdue demons, and a mighty Zen spread, and the whole mountain seemed to be shrouded in Buddha's light.

"My name is... Tianzun."

The voice of the man in black was deep and magnetic, echoing in the ears of every Arhat, as if there was a strange magic that made the Arhats hold their breath.

It was an indescribable sense of oppression, which even made them unable to speak again, for fear of leaking their energy and revealing flaws.

"Amitabha."

It was still Tianlong Arhat who stood up and took the initiative to say: "I didn't expect that there would be someone like you in the world today."

The mysterious man who called himself Tianzun gave him such great pressure that he actually reminded him of his master back then.

This person is probably in the eighth realm!

The eighth realm gave out Yang Shen, even in the ancient times when the spiritual energy was ten times that of today and heroes emerged in large numbers, it was definitely the strongest person standing at the top of the world!

In this era when the six realms are already rare, the appearance of the eight realms is really incredible.

Tianzun did not answer Tianlong Arhat's question, but just looked at the "Five Hundred Arhats Conquering Demons" quietly, as if appreciating the brushwork and skills in it, and strolled in the garden.

After a long time, he uttered eight words indifferently.

"The painting saint's last work is nothing more than this."

This sentence instantly angered the five hundred Arhats, and the Tianlong Arhat was even more murderous, his eyes were red, as if there was a red lotus fire rising.

The painting saint was the person they respected the most, and he was also the master who gave them life. The name of the master must not be blasphemed by anyone!

Roar!

A golden Arhat flew out of the painting riding a lion. The lion under his crotch seemed to be cast in gold, with fluttering mane, full of domineering.

The Arhat held the fearless lion seal in his hand, and opened his eyes at the same time as the golden lion, with a fierce look in his eyes, and roared.

"Om!"

The six-character mantra of Buddhism, plus the fearless lion seal, the Buddhist lion roar, this is the signature magical power of the lion-riding Arhat. Under the Sanskrit sound, it can shatter thousands of demons and intimidate the world in all directions!

The surrounding sea of ​​clouds was instantly shattered by the sound waves, and the trees on the mountain peaks were blown away like weeds, uprooted, and turned into powder and scattered into the sky.

However, the figure of Tianzun did not move at all, like the towering Kunlun Mountains between heaven and earth, no matter how strong the wind blows from the east, west, south, and north, I will remain unmoved.

Only the black robe fluttered.

"The voice of an ordinary man is so boring."

Tianzun shook his head, and when the lion-riding Arhat was about to shout out the next six-character mantra, a strand of hair fell from his head, and then pierced through the void like a sharp arrow, as if there was some kind of law, and even time seemed to slow down.

"Be careful--"

Tianlong Arhat's pupils condensed, and he was ready to take action while warning him, but he was still one step late.

No more, no less, just one step.

Puff!

Blood splashed, and it turned into ink on the ground.

The lion's roar came to an abrupt end. The Lion-Riding Arhat tightly covered his throat that was pierced by the hair. His vocal cords had been completely destroyed and he could no longer utter a word.

He, who was known as the best voice master among the five hundred Arhats, became mute in an instant.

What was even more terrifying was that the wound on his throat had some terrifying and mysterious power that was constantly tearing and spreading.

With a click.

The head of the Lion-Riding Arhat rolled to the ground, and he died with his eyes open.

His body gradually turned into ink and dissipated. Although the Lion-Riding Arhat on the original mural was still there, he was missing the head on his neck.

"Riding the Lion!"

"Old Nineteen!"

The Arhats shouted in great grief.

Although they often quarreled, it was just a diversion over the long years. In fact, they had long been as close as a family.

But now the Lion-Riding Arhat was dead, truly dead, and even the charm in the painting was wiped out.

You know, with the blessing of the power of the Painting Saint, they are almost immortal. Even if they die in battle, they can be resurrected in the painting, but now their immortality has been broken.

This means that the opponent is a great master of the same level as the Painting Saint!

"Give me back my brother's life!"

The bell-holding Arhat flew out of the painting, furious. The magic bell in his hand kept growing in the air, and then fell upside down towards the Heavenly Venerable, making a loud bang.

Then he slapped the big bell with his palms, trying to kill the enemy with the power of vibration.

This precious bell can absorb external attacks and transform them into internal vibration power. Even the hundred-forged fine steel can be shaken into a pool of molten iron, which is very powerful.

The stronger the external attack, the stronger the internal vibration.

The other Arhats also hit the precious bell, cooperating very well.

But at this moment, the bell-holding Arhat suddenly had a flash in front of his eyes, and the surroundings were spinning. He actually exchanged positions with the Heavenly Venerable and appeared in the big bell like a shadow.

"No——"

Before he finished speaking, the bell rang sadly, and then broke into pieces and shattered into dust.

The arhat holding the bell had become a pool of ink.

"It's fake, after all, fake, and a bit boring."

The Heavenly Venerable stood with his hands behind his back, like a god overlooking all living things, his eyes were indifferent without a trace of ripples.

"I want to see the holy land, you painting slaves, either make way or go on the road."

"Choose one."

...