Even the lantern eel behind him let out a mournful and resolute cry, pouring all its life force and energy into the phosphorescent lamp's soon-to-burn body.

"The lamp falls, the butterfly is buried..." the phosphorescent lamp spoke softly, its voice ethereal.

All the ghostly fire butterflies around him instantly enveloped him, then suddenly contracted and exploded.

The fire butterflies were no longer scattered, but converged into a "destructive butterfly tide" with a diameter of over several meters, condensed to the extreme!

Phosphorus Lamp stood behind the Butterfly Tide, its form becoming increasingly ethereal. Black blood kept spilling from the corner of its mouth, but the eerie blue light on its chest remained intense, like a lamp about to burn out but still shining with all its might!

This was not a reckless act of suicidal courage, but a final charge fueled by all his convictions.

It was his last gamble with his life!

The butterfly tide, carrying the will to burn everything, recklessly crashed into the vast Buddha light!

This time, however, the fire butterflies formed from countless ghosts were not instantly melted away as before. Instead, they clung tightly to the golden light threads and burned.

Where the ghostly fire butterfly touched the Buddha's light, a hissing sound erupted, and even the Sanskrit inscriptions dimmed slightly.

Countless fiery butterflies burned in the Buddha's light, making the blurred faces on their wings even clearer—some were the terrified eyes of children, others the withered faces of old men...

That is the obsession of countless wronged souls, the ghosts' recognition of the phosphorescent lamp, and their resistance using the lamp's primal power.

The fire butterflies in front were purified into ashes by the Buddha's light, and more fire butterflies followed in the next second.

Fearless and relentless, they charged forward one after another!

Like moths drawn to a flame, yet with a resolute determination to incinerate the Buddha's light along with it.

A flicker of emotion finally crossed the eyes of the monk Jingshi. What he saw was no longer the fire butterfly, but a series of silent, heartbreaking silhouettes of lives, people who disappeared into the darkness but were remembered by the phosphorescent lamp.

In an instant, the monk Jingshi was greatly shaken!

A Buddha's heart sways!