Kill the Little Tibetan King
On the vast square of the Brahma Palace, Ye Feng strode forward, heading straight for the hiding place where the mountain was sealed off.
His gaze was as deep as the sea, shooting out two beams of cold lightning that stretched for miles.
A large number of believers, controlled by the temple, charged toward him recklessly, roaring and their eyes filled with madness and cruelty.
These believers have been completely turned into puppets. Keeping them around will only bring harm to the world. It would be better to help them be completely liberated.
"court death!"
Ye Feng pointed his fingers and slashed through the air, unleashing a sharp sword aura that shot out like a laser cutter, reaping large numbers of believers and cleaving them in two at the waist.
The spurting blood stained half the sky red.
However, these believers were fearless and emerged in dense, overwhelming numbers, surging towards Ye Feng like a tidal wave.
Ye Feng's murderous intent intensified, and he suddenly roared.
"Seal the mountain! Get out here!"
roar--
The eight tones of the Heavenly Dragon sounded like heavenly soldiers beating war drums, and the terrifying sound waves almost covered the entire mountain.
Large numbers of believers were instantly killed by the shock, turning into clouds of blood mist that carved a path straight to the center of the square.
Ye Feng strode forward, bathed in blood mist, his eyes cold as knives, like a bloodthirsty demon god.
In the center of the square stands a huge statue, the statue of the Tibetan King, about ten meters high. He holds a vajra, has a full beard, stares with big, round eyes, and wears a battle robe, like a war god descending from the sky.
A powerful spiritual energy emanates from this statue, used to control all the worshippers who come to pay homage.
Of course, some believers, having been followers of the Tibetan King for a shorter period, were less affected by his teachings and quickly came to their senses. They fled in panic, too afraid to confront Ye Feng directly.
Ye Feng did not make things difficult for these people and let them leave.
"presumptuous!"
At the foot of the enormous Tibetan king statue, a young man sat cross-legged, with a high nose bridge and deep-set eyes, a typical image of a foreign warrior, holding a crescent-shaped blade.
This person is Little Tibetan King, a disciple of the Tibetan King, a peak eighth-rank Martial Emperor, who is presiding over this temple fair on behalf of his master.
Surrounding him was a group of temple experts, their eyes filled with apprehension and fear as they looked at Ye Feng.
Little Tibetan King glared at Ye Feng.
"Who exactly are you? How dare you cause trouble at my master's temple fair? Are you tired of living?"
"You are not worthy to know my name."
Ye Feng sneered and killed his opponent with a single sword strike. The head flew up, drawing a graceful parabola in mid-air before rolling far away after landing.
Even as he lay dying, his eyes remained open, filled with astonishment and confusion.
The group of temple disciples behind them had never seen such a ferocious person before, and they fled in panic.
"cut!"
With a wave of his hand, Ye Feng unleashed hundreds of sharp sword energies, slaying all the fleeing individuals.
The huge square was littered with corpses and severed limbs.
The blood had stained the rocky ground red, making it look like a scene from hell.
Ye Feng could clearly sense that the Prince's aura of sealing the mountain was inside the Brahma Palace Temple.
"The mountain is sealed off; you won't escape this time!"
Ye Feng strode towards the Brahmaputra Temple.
call--
Suddenly, a sharp whooshing sound came from behind me, and the ground trembled slightly, as if an earthquake had struck.
A massive shadow of death loomed over Ye Feng.
The enormous statue of the Tibetan king strode up to catch up with Ye Feng and stomped down on him as if he were an ant.
"court death!"
Ye Feng had already sensed it. He leaped into the air, wielding a huge iron hammer, and smashed it down on the statue.
Clang—
The statue's head was smashed into a deep crater, with cracks spreading down from the top, dust swirling down, and everything below the knees was smashed into the crater.
"roar!"
The statue of the Tibetan King roared and slapped Ye Feng with its massive rock palm, which, like a mat, produced a dull, whistling sound as the space collapsed.
Several towering trees around the square were snapped in half by the falling debris.
A sharp glint flashed in Ye Feng's eyes, and he swept his large iron hammer across, smashing half of the Tibetan border king statue to pieces.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
With a series of hammer blows, the statue of the Tibetan King roared repeatedly as it was smashed into the ground of the square, leaving only its mangled head exposed. Ye Feng then crushed it to pieces with a single stomp.
A huge footprint and deep pit were left behind.
Then, Ye Feng leaped into the Brahma Palace Temple, tracking the aura of the Crown Prince's mountain-sealing.
The Potala Palace Temple has been passed down for over a thousand years, witnessing the rise and fall of several dynasties and enduring countless storms, yet it still stands tall on the Tibetan border at an altitude of over two thousand meters.
The overall layout inside remains unchanged from over a thousand years ago.
Apart from some minor changes in the decorations, the long, narrow corridor is lined with colorful murals that tell the story of a Tang Dynasty princess who traveled a great distance to marry a Tibetan prince and bring blessings to the Tibetan people.
Walking inside the Brahmaputra temples feels like traveling back a thousand years, as if stepping back into ancient times.
At this moment, deep within a barrier somewhere inside the main hall of the Brahma Palace temple.
There is also a dark and gloomy underground palace hidden here.
In the very center of the underground palace, there is a pitch-black altar.
In the very center of the altar sat a middle-aged man of extraordinary bearing, dressed in a purple robe, with his eyes slightly closed and his hands forming a mudra. This was none other than Prince Fengshan.
Before him was a dragon vein, which had transformed into an illusory dragon shape, gleaming with golden light, and was being continuously absorbed by the sealed mountain.
This is the section of the dragon vein that was stolen from the Huangpu River in Shanghai.
Around the altar sat a dozen or so old men in black robes, all of whom were members of the Eighteen Heavenly Demons, specifically tasked with protecting the Crown Prince and sealing the mountain.
In addition, not far from the altar, a tall old man with a thick beard was sitting on a stone bench. He was none other than the Tibetan King.
Even sitting there, he was half a head taller than a normal person standing, and there was a golden magic wand stuck in the ground in front of him, as thick as an adult's arm.
In fact, this Tibetan king was also a confidant of the crown prince Fengshan, and he took control of the entire Tibetan border region on his behalf.
He cultivated so many followers so that he could launch an uprising at a crucial moment and support the crown prince's ascension to the throne.
They use the annual temple fair to force Tibetans to offer up young boys and girls.
In the end, he used them to practice evil arts, thereby further consolidating his rule in the Tibetan border region.
Suddenly, the Tibetan king opened his eyes, a cold glint flashing in them.
"Oh no, Ye Feng is here."
“He killed my disciple, destroyed my statue, and has found this place.”
"Your Highness, you need to hurry..."
Rumble—
Before he could finish speaking, a loud boom came from outside, the barrier was broken, and the underground palace shook violently.
A figure strode in, accompanied by a gust of wind. He had dark eyes and black hair, and his long black robe fluttered in the wind.
The person who arrived was Ye Feng...
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