The gaunt old man was a late-stage Martial Saint and held a very high position within the temple.
Now, however, he was slapped to death by Ye Feng. His subordinates were covered in blood and stared at Ye Feng in utter shock, as if they were looking at a ferocious beast.
Someone seemed to remember something, their eyes filled with terror, and they stammered.
"He...he is Ye Feng, the leader of the Blood Mist Sect."
To kill someone with a single slap—such a brutal method is truly unparalleled in the world, except perhaps by the leader of the Blood Mist Sect.
"Ye Tianshen, my God, he really is Ye Tianshen."
"Run quickly and report to the Tibetan king."
A group of people were so frightened that they ran away, but Ye Feng casually slapped several of them to death.
The rest were so scared they wet their pants, and before they could escape, Ye Feng caught them again.
Because he still needed these people to guide him into the Brahmaputra temple.
Otherwise, if they rashly go in, they could easily attract the attention of the Crown Prince who has sealed off the mountain, and thus escape.
By then, it won't be so easy to catch him again.
After learning Ye Feng's identity, these people were terrified and dared not utter a single word of dissent.
Left with no other choice, he cautiously led Ye Feng and the others toward the Brahmaputra Temple.
Along the way, we encountered several checkpoints.
But because they had their people with them, they all passed through easily.
Ye Wushuang kept comforting Zheng Lu.
"Lulu, don't worry, my brother will definitely save you."
Zheng Lu nodded, her eyes filled with admiration and gratitude as she looked at Ye Feng.
She thought to herself, "If only I had a brother like that."
No one in the whole world dared to bully her anymore.
"Thank you, God Ye."
Girls of this age are very likely to associate themselves with Ye Feng.
Handsome and dashing, with unfathomable cultivation.
He's also incredibly popular with women.
They all knew each other. When Ye Feng took his sister to school, he even treated her roommates to a meal.
I never imagined that it would be less than half a year since we last met.
He has already risen to become the world-renowned Ye Tianshen.
Looking back, it all feels like a dream.
While the group chatted, they soon arrived at the entrance of the Potala Temple.
A large number of believers have gathered here. As far as the eye can see, there is a vast, dark mass covering the entire mountainside, numbering in the tens of thousands.
Everyone knelt on the ground, chanting incantations that were inaudible to others, and worshipped towards the temple on the mountaintop, their faces filled with piety and fervor, as if they were worshipping a god.
Others might not be able to see it, but Ye Feng could see it clearly.
Above each believer's head, an invisible white mist slowly rises and eventually merges into the Brahmaputra temple.
Ye Feng seemed to understand something, knowing that these were all the faith power of believers used to make offerings to the Tibetan king.
His master had mentioned to him before that there were a total of 108,000 methods of cultivation in this world.
Developing believers and gathering the power of faith is one such method.
Believers are also protected by gods when they worship them.
This is beneficial to both sides, and it is a legitimate approach.
However, there are also some heretical practitioners who have no moral bottom line.
Developing believers not only involves absorbing their faith power, but also taking away their life essence.
Ultimately, these believers will become mindless zombies, willingly controlled by the system.
He could tell that the Tibetan king before him was using this method, employing strange and evil magic to gradually drain the life force and faith of each believer, thereby gaining control of the entire Tibetan border region.
Beside him, Zheng Lu's brother said to Ye Feng with some concern.
"Ye Tianshen, the Tibetan King has nearly 100,000 followers, and many more are coming from all directions."
"We might not be able to defeat them..."
Zheng Lu and others are just ordinary people, not from the martial arts world. They have only vaguely heard that Ye Tianshen is very powerful and has swept across major powers such as the United States, the United Kingdom, and Japan.
But since they hadn't seen it with their own eyes, and Ye Tianshen was too far removed from ordinary people, it always felt somewhat unreal.
But the Tibetan king was different; from the moment they were born, they grew up hearing about his fame.
They knew the power of the Tibetan king well; before, many had come to eliminate him, including some unparalleled masters.
But without exception, they all failed, their heads were hung in the huge square in front of the Potala Temple, and their bodies were desiccated.
Ye Wushuang was full of confidence.
“My brother is different from them, just you wait and see.”
Soon, skilled warriors from the Brahma Palace temple arrived and handed over the nine chosen pairs of boys and girls to be sacrificed in the largest square in front of the temple.
The other selected boys and girls all burst into tears, moving the onlookers deeply.
But no one dared to step forward and meddle.
At this moment, a master from the temple noticed that Zheng Lu had not moved and reprimanded her.
“What are you waiting for? Little Tibetan King has already started his ritual. The temple fair is about to begin. Now we just need to wait for the offerings. Hurry up and come with us.”
Little Tibetan King is the disciple of Tibetan King, and he usually presides over the annual temple fair.
The real Tibetan king has not appeared in public for many years.
The few surviving henchmen of the gaunt old man were too scared to utter a sound, their fearful eyes fixed on Ye Feng.
"Who are you?"
The newcomer sensed something was wrong and warned him warily.
"Where is Natak?"
The person he mentioned was the gaunt old man who had just been slapped to death by Ye Feng.
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