From God of Lies to Lord of All Worlds

Chapter 248: Avici Hell

If the invitation from Buddhism was a unique trial, then the international representatives responding to it were the absolute core of that test!

Wutian had issued invitations to every nation around the world that possessed a Buddhist presence or culture, prompting representatives from dozens of countries to arrive in rapid succession.

Not only did the politicians attend, but they also brought their respective Buddhist representatives. The representatives of Northern Buddhism—encompassing Central Asian Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism, Steppe Buddhism, and the Buddhism of Japan, Korea, Europe, and America—along with the representatives of Southern Buddhism, including those from Southeast Asia and parts of South Asia, had all arrived in full force.

While the secular envoys from these nations carried themselves with a heavy, solemn demeanor, the Buddhist Monks and Lamas who accompanied them displayed a noticeably relaxed attitude.

It could even be said that the Buddhist Monks were radiating an outward sense of pure joy.

It made perfect sense. In this era where Transcendence was flourishing, their own Transcendent Beings—and even Venerable Kashyapa, the foremost disciple under the World-Honored One—had finally appeared. Did this not prove that the Divine Faith they revered, the Buddhist Doctrine they believed in, alongside their sacred scriptures and envisioned future, were entirely real?

Naturally, there were those who were in poor spirits—specifically, the hypocrites who committed evil deeds under the guise of Buddhism.

Therefore, these individuals did not attend in person. Instead, they dispatched their subordinates to this unique city to assess the situation.

Those they sent were The Faithful, or rather, Inheritors—people who were marginalized in their leaders' heavily commercialized empires yet still retained a vibrant, unyielding Divine Faith.

Regardless of the sect, such individuals always existed; they were the true foundation that ensured the survival of their religion.The leaders and the shrewd businessmen at the top could be swapped out at a moment's notice, but these Inheritors, who served as the very bedrock of the tradition, could never be forsaken.

Thus, all these delegates converged on this Realm, gazing upon a city that had been rendered almost unrecognizable, and voiced their collective awe.

"Namo Amitābha, the essence of the Buddha permeates this city!" an esteemed Buddhist Monk from Japan exclaimed in surprise.

The airport staff before them were all dressed in light, unadorned White Robes. This perfectly aligned with the characteristics of Northern Buddhism—austere and solemn—presenting a stark contrast to India's former displays of extreme extravagance and indulgent desires!

"Well said, Master!" beside the Japanese monk stood an eminent monk from Thailand. His attire was far more luxurious, yet he still wore an expression of Compassionate Mercy. "This is not my first time visiting this city, but the feeling it gives me now is entirely unprecedented!"

Their exchange drew nods of agreement from those around them. Yet, compared to the sequestered Buddhist Monks who rarely traveled, the international diplomats actually had more room to speak on the matter.

"Indeed, it hardly stinks anymore!" a Slavic man from Russia stated bluntly. "Though it remains rather unpleasant, at least there is no longer a need to cover our noses and mouths!"

"The last time I was here, I wished I had brought an air filter. Now, it is actually tolerable!" the representative of America chimed in.

"That is because this city, under the guidance of the Bodhisattva, is returning to its ancient glory!" a receptionist clad in monk's robes said, stepping before them. "The city will eventually be entirely cleansed. Please rest assured!"

"There are Buddhist Monks in Kolkata?" The crowd stared at the receptionist in surprise.

"Indeed, everyone. My Dharma name is Duxuan. I am a Buddhist Monk of the Xuanzang Temple, acting upon the orders of the Venerable to receive you!" The middle-aged monk pressed his palms together and bowed respectfully. "Amitābha!"

"Greetings, Master!" The crowd eagerly returned the bow, displaying none of the usual arrogance expected from delegates of major global powers.

After all, just a couple of days prior, the Venerable Elder had been throwing an impotent tantrum on the international stage, threatening to launch missiles to obliterate this city. Yet, it was all empty bluster. They had not even mobilized their naval fleet—though, to be fair, that likely had something to do with a toilet mysteriously exploding on one of their warships.

The daily atmosphere within the parliament of India was as dismal as a funeral, yet absolutely no one dared to openly propose either peaceful coexistence or full-scale war.

After all, the colossal phantom of the Buddha was still seared into their minds, and that terrifying Asura was currently patrolling the skies above the city. Who would truly dare to negotiate or launch an attack under such circumstances?

If that formidable monk decided to take a stroll through their own cities, wouldn't they find themselves in a disastrous predicament?

Therefore, heavily deterred by what was essentially a spiritual Nuclear Weapon, everyone wisely decided against stirring up any trouble here.

However, some were still bold enough to speak up and ask questions—namely, the renowned eminent monks.

"Master Duxuan, for what purpose has the Venerable summoned us this time?" A Lama from Russia asked. Given their shared roots, they were essentially cut from the same cloth.

"Amitābha, the Buddha said it is unspeakable!" The robust Buddhist Monk shook his head with a serene smile, refusing to reveal a single detail. In truth, as one of the few orthodox Buddhist Monks remaining in this city, Duxuan was just as bewildered as everyone else. He had been particularly dumbfounded after experiencing a vivid dream that transported him to Shituling.

Many of the masters and peers around him had transformed into Yokai. Only he, a handful of others who had sincerely worshipped the Buddha every day, and a few young novices in the courtyard had remained unchanged, retaining their human forms as Buddhist Monks.

They had chosen to pray to the Buddha and march westward. After all, anyone familiar with the legends of Shituling knew that Mount Sumeru lay to the west; as long as they headed in that direction, they should be safe!

Sure enough, they managed to survive the ordeal without a single scratch.

It was only later, after escaping and crossing paths with a Dalit named Sur, that he finally grasped a rough understanding of the catastrophe that had befallen the city.

He also learned that a Bodhisattva known as Kinnara had descended upon the city, taking over as its absolute ruler—and that this powerful figure was actually at odds with the World-Honored One!

Of course, such divine conflicts had nothing to do with ordinary Buddhist Monks like them. The World-Honored One certainly wouldn't blame mortals for matters beyond their control, so they simply decided to go with the flow.

Anyone who had studied the Buddhist scriptures knew that the World-Honored One was actually a remarkably gentle and merciful entity, full of Compassionate Mercy. As long as one did not break the sacred precepts, there was room for negotiation on almost any matter.

Therefore, upon awakening from that terrifying illusion, the residents of the Xuanzang Temple shifted their allegiance without a second thought!

They were all Devout Believers. After so many years of silent prayer, they had finally laid eyes upon a true Arhat and Bodhisattva. Naturally, they were desperate to make contact. Furthermore, the Buddhist Monk known as Zanluo showed no signs of rejecting them. Instead, he visited their temple and appointed them as the official hosts for this grand spectacle.

The theological conflicts between differing Buddhist paths would never be allowed to harm the innocent practitioners beneath them; this was simply Zanluo's inherent nature.

"Everyone has gathered, so let us depart!" Duxuan swept his gaze across the crowd, exchanged a knowing look with the surrounding Buddhist Monks, and guided the delegates onto several large luxury coaches that had been requisitioned from the estates of local Brahmins.

After all, there were hardly any Brahmins left in the city anyway. Their entire exclusive community was sitting wide open, and it would be a shame to let such fine vehicles go to waste.

Once everyone was securely on board, Duxuan stood at the front of the lead bus. Producing a small portable microphone, he beamed a cheerful smile at the crowd and announced, "Are you all ready? The bus descending into Avici Hell is about to depart!"

"What?!" The passengers were instantly dumbfounded, and a wave of panic surged as they hurriedly scrambled to get off the buses.

What kind of sinister operation was this? The moment they boarded, the guide announced he was taking them to Hell? And Avici Hell, no less?

Thanks to the sudden, explosive rise of Buddhism over the past two days, the diplomats had vigorously studied various Buddhist tales and doctrines. They knew exactly what Avici Hell represented. Was this monk planning to drag them all straight to their deaths?

Fortunately, Duxuan possessed excellent crowd control skills. Cutting through the frantic clamor, his serene voice carried perfectly across the bus. "Amitābha, excellent, excellent! Forgive this poor monk for his phrasing. Descending into Avici this time is the direct will of Bodhisattva Zanluo!"

"He will utilize his immense power to guide our Souls into the depths of the Eighteen Levels of Hell beneath the earth, allowing us to experience the fragile boundary between life and death!"

"If anyone is unwilling, you will not be forced. You may step off now, and we will safely escort you back once the gathering concludes!"

Hearing this explanation, the panic quickly subsided. These were all fiercely intelligent politicians and scholars; who among them couldn't read between the lines?

This clearly implied that as long as they dared to journey In Hell, they would be granted a personal audience with Bodhisattva Zanluo!

What was there left to hesitate over? They had to go!

This was a terrifyingly powerful entity capable of hypnotizing an entire metropolis single-handedly—a true, living Bodhisattva!

The Buddhist Monks and Lamas present naturally wouldn't refuse such an opportunity, and the international diplomats had absolutely no intention of backing down. If they had to plunge into Hell to secure a meeting, then so be it!

"Master, show us your Compassionate Mercy! Please, guide us all to meet Bodhisattva Zanluo!" the delegates cried out in unison, their resolve hardened.

This was true Transcendence. Even if it meant stepping into Hell itself, they simply had to catch a glimpse, didn't they?

"Namo Kinnara Bodhisattva!" Duxuan chanted solemnly. A mesmerizing ripple of divine light swept through the bus, instantly lulling every single passenger into a deep slumber in their seats.

The very next second, endless roaring flames, biting frost, flashing blades, and the boundless malice of countless howling spirits materialized around them. The sheer terror of the sensory assault left everyone trembling uncontrollably.

Only then did the chaotic visions part, allowing them to see a Buddhist Monk dressed in White Robes stepping gracefully out of the distant void.

"I am Zanluo. Welcome, everyone, to Hell!"