Limitless Ascension: Strength Amid Adversity

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“What do we do? He seems not afraid of us?”

“Damn, the aura of Tribulation Stage, this guy is a Virtual Immortal!”

“Why panic? I’ve heard Ye Junlin once killed a Virtual Immortal from the Yuhua Sect. His reputation precedes him. As long as I maintain my composure, I can bluff this old bald donkey!”

A few of them were whispering among themselves.

As the core member of this group, the Old Man struggled to suppress his inner turmoil. He forced a few cold laughs, looking arrogant as he said, “Disciple, this is not your affair. Step back!”

“Yes, Master!”

The Hat Man felt relieved, trembling as he hid in the back.

“This friend, do you know who I am? What I plan to do? There are few in the Eastern Domain who can stop me!”

The Old Man’s gaze was as sharp as winter, his tone filled with warning.

Master Randel raised an eyebrow.

In his eyes, the other three were weak, but this Old Man’s cultivation was inscrutable, shrouded in mist—could he really be someone of great importance?

“Master, he is the God of Death Ye Junlin! He previously wiped out the Yuhua Sect’s million-strong army. Our Hanging Temple also lost many elders and disciples in that battle!” said a nervous disciple.

“Hmm?”

Master Randel’s eyes sparkled. He had heard about this incident when he left seclusion recently.

He never expected to meet this person at this moment!

It was said that even the newly advanced Giant Sun Virtual Immortal from the Xue Family was killed by him barehanded at a banquet!

His cultivation was unfathomably deep, and his strength was incredibly formidable!

The Old Man’s heart skipped a beat.

This old bald donkey turned out to be a high monk from the Hanging Temple! After all, during the Arid Province battle, the Hanging Temple also suffered a loss at Ye Junlin’s hands!

Would their enemies end up fighting as soon as they met?

What a disaster; he really kicked a metal plate this time!

And it’s a prickly metal plate!

Who would’ve thought that Master Randel would actually show a hint of a smile, his terrifying aura gradually retracting, and his tone became much friendlier, “Amitabha Buddha, so it’s Ye Benefactor. I’ve long heard of you.”

The Old Man was stunned, his heart bursting with joy.

It seems Ye Junlin’s reputation is still effective, even this high monk from the Hanging Temple has to give him face!

The cultivators present looked at each other, deep shock evident in their eyes.

Has Ye Junlin already become this powerful?

Even Master Randel is treating him politely, displaying signs of wanting to curry favor!

Clearly, this was an enemy!

“Master, is this old bald donkey really giving you face?” Li Wujie whispered, equally surprised at Master Randel’s change in attitude.

Ye Junlin narrowed his eyes, as if considering something, then sneered, “Don’t be fooled; this old bald donkey has ulterior motives. Just watch closely.”

If he guessed correctly, this person was trying to use these imposters to achieve his shady goals.

“Cough, this friend, did you also come from the Medicine King Valley?” The Old Man, seeing Master Randel’s lowered attitude, felt much less fear and appeared more composed.

“Indeed, it’s truly a wonderful place filled with the true goodness of the world.” Master Randel smiled and sighed.

As he spoke this, the anger in his chest boiled!

Upon hearing this, the Old Man secretly rejoiced; to receive such a high evaluation from this monk meant the Medicine King Valley really was a supreme treasure.

Then this group of people coming out from there must possess many precious medicines—perhaps even have the Medicine King among them!

As thoughts raced through his mind,

the Old Man decided firmly, his tone revealing a hint of toughness, “Since that’s the case, meeting is fate. For what comes next, I hope you won’t interfere, otherwise… hum!”

As he spoke, he flicked his sleeve dramatically, his stance imposing.

The other companions fell silent, thinking this guy really is bold, daring to shove his nose in the face of a Tribulation Stage powerhouse.

Seeing this,

Master Randel not only did not get angry but instead smiled, “Ye Benefactor, I completely understand your point. However, this approach is not comprehensive; let me lend you a hand.”

Swish!

He formed a seal with one hand, and in an instant, a copper-colored large bowl appeared above him, rapidly expanding at an incredible speed as if it were going to engulf the entire world.

Before long, this great bowl was seamlessly formed, not a single flaw in sight, enclosing all the cultivators like a prison; not even a fly could escape!

The surface of the bowl was embossed with faint golden Sanskrit, and the distant sounds of chanting could be faintly heard, filled with a peaceful, sacred aura.

Everyone was trapped inside, each expression filled with confusion.

They all harbored an ominous premonition!

“Friend, what are you doing…” The Old Man’s expression froze, his heart pounding. The opponent’s sudden action completely caught him off guard.

What’s this all about?!

At this moment, among countless shocked gazes, Master Randel revealed a look of compassion, sighing, “How fortunate, how fortunate! Meeting is fate, and this old monk has decided to transcend you all, allowing you to depart for the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss.”

“Amitabha~”

This white-browed monk clasped his hands together, calmly reciting the Buddha chant.

These words made everyone present feel a chill run down their spines.

Among them, one cultivator realized something and trembledly raised his finger, “I get it, you old bald donkey are clearly seeking revenge on us!”

The others who came from the Medicine King Valley were both angry and anxious, realizing Master Randel sought to settle the score, and immediately shouted in agitation:

“We were forced into this! Why should we be blamed?”

“It’s just a matter of being pelted with dung balls, how can a high monk like you be so narrow-minded!”

“Master! Spare me, I promise I won’t tell anyone!”

“Aren’t monks supposed to be compassionate? You’re ruining the reputation of the Hanging Temple!”

The sounds of accusations, pleas for mercy, and angry shouts suddenly filled the air from all sides.

Master Randel broke down, veins bulging on his forehead, furiously shouting, “Shut up! You bunch of evildoers! A dignified Tribulation Stage powerhouse like me cannot be humiliated by you throwing dung balls?!”

“How could I swallow this humiliation? I’m going to transcend all of you to make up for the crimes you’ve committed before!!”

His roar infused with endless magical power immediately overwhelmed the cacophony, leaving many cultivators with buzzing ears and shaking spirits.

Everyone stared blankly at this terrifying old monk, his face contorted as if he were ready to devour them, feeling incredibly estranged.

Dung balls?

What’s going on?

Originally clueless spectators, even the dullest bystanders now understood that the situation was far from simple!

But the problem was, they were just here to watch the show, and now they were caught up in this great bowl—did that mean they were all going to be silenced?!

Many strong-willed cultivators wore ugly expressions, testing the bowl’s defenses, banging on it with loud thuds, but it had no effect.

Master Randel realized he had lost his composure and quickly regained his calm like a changing face, saying flatly, “Don’t waste your effort. Without my permission, no one can leave.”

“This senior, I am the prince of the Great Yan Dynasty. Have you considered the consequences of what you’re doing?” a young man in ornate clothing threatened, pulling out a royal jade pendant.

“I am a core elder of the Qiankun Sect. If something happens here, the sect will pursue it thoroughly!” another elder with a celestial aura wielded a whisk, looking stern.

“Hum! Even if we don’t have your cultivation, if you insist on committing murder, the forces behind us will not let this go easily. The Hanging Temple will inevitably pay a heavy price!” a Great Ascension cultivator glared angrily as he stepped forward.

“Exactly!”

Many were indignant, trying to pressure Master Randel to reconsider.

Even the elders of the Hanging Temple were frightened, feeling this white-browed monk’s mindset was too reckless and would bring trouble to the temple.

“Master Randel, perhaps…” one of his disciples took a deep breath, trying to persuade him.

However, Master Randel raised his hand, and a golden hand appeared rapidly in the air,

grabbing that person tightly. Their joints cracked loudly in terrible pressure, turning their face a shade of plum, panicking as they yelled, “Randel, have you gone mad?!

“I remember you were involved too.” Master Randel said expressionlessly.

That person silently mourned, desperately pleading, “Randel, we’re fellow disciples! Why must we harm one another? Moreover, I was forced too!”

Bang!

In the next second, this cultivator at the Unity Stage was instantly crushed into mist, his divine soul obliterated.

“Hiss!!!” The crowd gasped sharply, their hearts chilled; this old bald donkey is so ruthless he even kills his own disciples. Do they have any chance to survive?

“Amitabha~”

Master Randel looked sympathetic, full of regret, yet a glint of bloodthirst flashed in his eyes.

The Old Man felt a chill run down his spine. He had initially planned to quit while he was ahead, taking the resources he recently snatched and focusing on closed-door training without showing his face for a few hundred years.

Who would’ve thought it would escalate to this extent?!

Turning to glance at the others, he saw they had already been scared stiff, looking at him for help.

The Old Man sighed inwardly; it seems they have to depend on me after all.

Then, quickly adjusting his state, his face darkened, and he said unkindly, “This friend, could it be you want to eliminate me too?”

Instantly,

everyone’s minds sparked.

This Old Man was known as the God of Death, backed by the seemingly ancient Xuantian Sect. Even the Yuhua Sect dared not dismiss him. If Master Randel persisted, the two would surely engage in a fierce battle, giving them a chance to survive.

As thoughts swirled, many cultivators changed their previous stances, placing their hopes on this Old Man.

Even those who had been robbed could not help but see him as their savior!

Master Randel smiled, “Ye Benefactor, how could I? I have great respect for your character. However, I do have one request that I hope you’ll consider.”

The Old Man grasped the key point and cautiously asked, “What is it?”

“Ye Benefactor seeks wealth, while I seek my life. I hope you can bear some responsibility for this matter afterward, and I would be extremely grateful!” Master Randel’s tone carried deep meaning.

The Old Man was taken aback.

What a crafty old bald donkey, plotting this perfectly—he wants me, oh no, he wants Ye Junlin to take the blame!

Everyone’s expressions grew grim, realizing they had been played!

If this matter were to leak, the Hanging Temple could distance itself, and considering the Old Man’s temperament, he likely didn’t care about this little reputation—after all, his hands were already stained with blood, killing these few was merely a drop in the bucket.

Master Randel remained silent, quietly waiting for the Old Man’s response.

From what they had learned earlier, he was extremely greedy for wealth. At worst, he could offer even more benefits afterward. As long as the Old Man was willing to accept the blame, he and the Hanging Temple would remain unaffected.

Just then, the Old Man stood with his hands behind his back, throwing back his head and laughing heartily.