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“Arhat… you…”
A lucky disciple who happened to be standing farther away from the group stared at the monk and the woman in wide-eyed disbelief. They were the Joy Arhat and Lampholding Protector of the Buddhist Hall of Joy, but they were slaughtering their own instead of saving them.
Aren’t they here to save the Bodhisattva?
If not, then…
The disciple felt chilled to the very core of his soul.
“I am freeing them from the sea of bitterness and delivering them to bliss.”
The Joy Arhat smiled, but it was a smile that resembled a demon’s. “To become one with bliss is to attain eternal life, no?”
The woman—the Lampholding Protector—didn’t wait for the monk to finish his sentence. She abruptly appeared behind the disciple and thrust her arm through his chest.
Pssh! Shhrek!
The disciple subconsciously looked down. There was now a gaping hole in his chest, and his heart was nowhere to be found.
He couldn’t even form his final thoughts before he collapsed...
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