Becoming a Deity from Planting the Bodhi Tree Chapter 743 - 277: Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill Kill!!!

No wonder the young girl was eager to ask about the Mother Goddess’s condition at first, and upon hearing that the Mother Goddess was also unwell, she seed so sorrowful, not even revealing the truth, but rather urging him to leave quickly...

After all, what can a deity who has fallen from the Divine Throne for a million years do?

What can a divine envoy of a deity who can hardly protect themselves do?

Jing Qiu looked up at the well-protected, perfect, majestic, and exalted statue of the God.

Crimson rainwater gathered on the statue’s brow, then dripped down, making people mistaken for the God as crying, shedding tears of blood.

He murmured to himself.

Is it so, Hel?

What can a deity fallen from the Divine Throne for a million years do?

You...would be angry, too?

...

Sowhere, at so mont.

Hel walked out of the Pure Land and stood in the rainwater of the Bitter Sea.

She suddenly had clarity on so matters—that after signing the contract with Jing Qiu, in a certain sense, they beca a "community of destiny."

Thus, this descent might not only include Jing Qiu’s karmic threads but hers as well.

Hel looked up, and the illusory Bitter Sea on the sky’s curtain was vividly colorful, and the blood-colored rain representing the wish power of all beings fell on her body, bringing a long-lost pain.

A God has no sense of pain.

Nor do they have joy.

The purest and utmost divine nature allows no room for such base sensations to affect their judgnt.

Only those minor deities with impure divine nature still possess residual "illusions."

To a deity, all kinds of chaotic emotions of mortals are re illusions, falsehoods, even delusions.

Thus, the Buddhist teaching of emptiness, preaching restraint and wisdom, the Daoist talk of nothingness, and Xinzhai’s sitting forgetfulness, all have their ditation thods to cut off emotions akin to Heart Demons, ultimately achieving the severance of the Eight Sufferings.

No matter which path one takes, ultimately the spirit will infinitely trend toward the "True God," or the "Dao."

Before the Dao, all things of Heaven and Earth are but illusions.

Without this, how can one dominate the Ti River, crossing countless tribulations?

All anguish stems from seeking trouble.

But at this mont.

Perhaps it was the sudden arrival of imnse wish power, mixed with too many "impurities;"

Perhaps her clone, from the start, was inevitably mixed with the light of humanity, now at this mont ignited by the impurities in the wish power;

Or perhaps other reasons...

Made her recall so long-forgotten trivial past.

For instance, she deeply detested the complex emotions within humanity.

Long, long ago, she completely abandoned this pure garbage.

Also, it seed she had a dream, a dream without any storyline, where she floated hundreds of ters under the sea, layers of water sound, light ripples casting on her face from above.

She drifted for a very, very long ti, faintly hearing voices, but she couldn’t move, just went with the flow.

She is the Dream God, yet at this mont she cannot control her own dream.

Those figures leaned across hundreds of ters of water, calling to her, faces sorrowful, like...she lay in a coffin, looking through the glass window at the past, or long, long ago, her friends and family outside, desperately and anxiously pounding on the window, urging her...

Run quickly!

Those voices and images familiar yet strange, she searched in her mountain-like, abyss-deep mories, flipped through mountains, delved into oceans, eventually finding in so corner...

Insignificant things.

Only then did she rember.

These were images from before she beca a God.

Even the supre deity cannot escape so powerless past.

If not transcended, all beings remain in the Bitter Sea.

After eons, countless tribulation periods, the impotence of being human she had long forgotten seems to have caught up with her again.

At this mont, she indifferently watched these smoky past events.

Like watching a farce.

Or a sarcastic joke.

The woman once strived to beco divine to protect and reclaim beloved people and things.

But as a God, those people once cared for, even the soul-wrenching mories, are entirely devoid of impression, or rather, the mory remains, but it’s as faint as white water.

As the divine nature grows richer and purer, that divine heart is destined never to stir waves again.

Those painful, sorrowful mories and past, at her divine ascension, all naturally drifted away.

She thought she should be angry now, should be sorrowful.

But there seed to be nothing at all.

She always hated people like Mu Shitian, He Donghuang.

Because these humble small insects always try to bear all beings with their little bodies, yet they understand nothing.

Sitting on the Divine Throne requires a price.

The supre deities do not need these aningless illusions.

What she must achieve is immortality.

Bearing the hopes and aspirations of all citizens of the entire Divine Country, heading together towards eternal immortality!

So...

Under the crimson rainwater, the deity hides their face with both hands.

How dare you?

How dare you?!

How dare you?!!

How dare you slaughter my followers?!!!

At that mont, a mournful and desolate low hum seed to resonate, like a lonely spirit crying in a well.

But He has never been a wandering ghost.

Thus, a sharp and distorted wail echoed across Heaven and Earth, entangled with the deity’s offended wrath and majesty, transforming into a tidal wave flowing against the Bitter Sea Water!

Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill!

Jing Qiu!!!

Kill them all!!!

...

"Boom!"

A streak of boundless Buddha Light burst forth like a waterfall against the current, piercing the sky, dyeing this night sky, transforming into a white lotus blooming in the world, with thirty-two petals.

Jing Qiu carried a shattered Martial Artist, left with only one breath, slowly walking out of the already ruined Divine Temple.

He lowered his head to confirm again: "Where did you say you ca from?"

At this mont, the Martial Artist’s face was devoid of previous ferocity and sneer, leaving only rancor and terror.

He spoke fiercely yet weakly: "The Arhat Bodhisattvas from Buddha Country are arriving soon, surrender quickly, or even if you commit suicide now, you’ll never escape the endless tornt of Netherworld Soil!!"

Jing Qiu nodded, crushed his skull.

He looked up.

Perhaps the Buddha Light above was too vast and boundless, attracting much attention.

Those large flesh-and-blood beasts swimming around, and nurous powerful auras, all were rapidly converging in this direction.

At this ti, a voice sounded in Jing Qiu’s ears.

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill..."

The voice was Hel’s, cold and hard like iron, chilling like it ca from the depths of Hell.

Every word carried the wrath that gods and spirits shun.

Jing Qiu stepped out of the Divine Temple one step at a ti, his spirit constantly elevating, rging with Heavenly Will.

His will, his wrath, at this mont mirroring Heaven and Earth Dao, Dao manifested, omnipresent.

Another familiar-sounding voice exploded in his ear.

—Dare ask my Buddha, the great tribulation arises, evil spirits grasp the Dao, what should be done?

His face displayed unprecedented wrath of a Ming King, Vajra fury.

He roared:

"Demon-suppressing!!!"