NOVPUBSeeing the usually peaceful monks act like this was stunning to everyone, especially to the followers of Mui Ran.
"They've harmed the Young Master!" one of them shouted, face red with panic and fury.
Swords were drawn. Talismans flared to life. They acted without thought, as if the laws of the temple and the presence of elders meant nothing.
"Enough."
But the Abbot was having none of it.
HUALA!
The sky above the Green Lotus Temple rippled like water disturbed by a pebble. From the abbot's crown, an invisible surge of force burst outward. The wind ceased. The ground quieted. Even the air seemed to freeze.
The aura above him took form—its shape no longer vague, but divine. It was the image of a wrathful young man, seated in lotus posture, surrounded by a ring of golden fire. His expression was serene, but his eyes blazed with judgment. He held a sword in one hand and a vajra in the other.
Lin Mu's heart trembled. It wasn't just pressure. It was something deeper. A spiritual resonance that reached into the core of all who watched.
An aura of absolute rage filled the area. Controlled, righteous, unflinching rage.
"The Abbot revealed it…" one of the senior monks gasped.
"The Heavenly Dhammakaya…" whispered another.
"The True Icon of Acala!" the eldest elder declared, his voice quivering with reverence.
The followers of Mui Ran, who had rushed forward with weapons, now dropped them instantly. One fell to his knees, the pressure too much for his mortal frame. Another began weeping, overcome with awe and fear.
Even Lin Mu had to draw in a steady breath, steadying his own thoughts. 𝓷ℴ𝓿𝓹𝓾𝒷.𝓬𝓸𝓂
'Is this… what lies behind the calm of the abbot? That wrathful deity… it feels like it's looking right at me.'
"Those who defy the precepts of the temple shall be judged," the Abbot said. Though his voice was still calm, it echoed like a thunderclap in every ear. "The Bearer of the Calming Heart Sutra is not merely a guest—he is a vessel of sacred destiny. To insult him is to insult the temple's will."
His words rippled outward like a spiritual decree.
"This is the decree of the Lotus Mandala," the Abbot continued. "It is not a matter of politics. It is Dharma."
The followers didn't even dare raise their heads.
Mui Ran, still on his knees, blood leaking from his mouth, finally looked up in a mixture of confusion and growing dread. His eyes darted from the elders to the monks, from Lin Mu to the spectral wrathful deity.
"You… you're making a mistake…" he rasped. "I'm the heir of the Mui Clan… if you touch me, my clan will—"
"—Karma shall reach them in time," the Abbot interrupted. "If they cannot discipline their heir, then they shall inherit his shame."
There was silence.
The crowd, hundreds strong, didn't dare speak. No one dared move. Even the vendors at the outer gates who'd been selling buns and tea fell still.
Finally, Lin Mu stepped forward. His expression was unreadable.
"Abbot, I appreciate the temple's protection. But… this may cause more problems than it solves," he said carefully.
The Abbot turned his gaze toward him. There was no hostility—only a strange softness behind the strict aura.
"The world is full of problems, Bearer," the old monk said. "But allowing poison to spread through mercy is not wisdom. You do not yet see your weight. But we do."
Lin Mu paused. He understood then that this wasn't simply about one arrogant noble.
"You are willing to grant mercy to those that offend you, which is a great virtue to have. Exactly why you were deserving of the Ruyi." The Abbot spoke. "I would expect nothing less of you, but there are limits to things." he both praised and advised.
This was about the temple drawing a line in the sand. One that said: We will not tolerate threats to those we recognize.
The abbot turned back to the followers. "Take the others. They may leave with their tongues intact, but their memory of this moment shall remain. Let them tell their clan what happens to those who defy Dharma."
The monks moved with efficiency. The followers didn't resist. They couldn't.
Then the abbot's gaze turned again—this time to the crowd.
"You all came seeking peace, understanding, and cultivation within sacred walls," he announced. "And we welcome all who are willing to wait in humility. But let none mistake humility for weakness."
BOOM!
A pulse of golden light spread out like a slow explosion. It bathed the temple in radiance, extending to the very gates.
"May your hearts be calm, and your intentions pure."
The spectral form of Acala began to fade, slowly retreating into the abbot's crown like a candle being snuffed. The pressure lessened.
Some people gasped for air. Others fell to their knees in reverence.
Meng Bai exhaled deeply beside Lin Mu. "That was… terrifying."
"Beautiful," Ashy who was hidden in Lin Mu's shadow whispered, eyes wide. "I didn't know monks could get angry." She had seen everything happen and if not for Lin Mu stopping her, she might've just spat out a flurry of curses herself.
Thankfully, the Abbot had done more than enough to satisfy her anger too.
"They don't," Lin Mu replied, still watching the abbot. "That wasn't anger. That was law."
And then the crowd parted again—this time in respect. Not out of fear, but awe. No one questioned Lin Mu's place anymore.
The gate to the Green Lotus Temple stood open, calm and inviting, as if nothing had happened at all.
And yet, the scent of blood and the silence of judgment lingered in the air.
The pilgrimage would continue. But none who were present would ever forget the day the True Icon of Acala descended in wrath.
Lin Mu thought continued to think of the image he had seen.
'Just what was it?' He wondered. 'There can be such a wrathful Buddhist cultivation technique too?' He was surprised.
From the power that the Abbot had shown, Lin Mu could tell that he was no weaker than the Dao Wind Emperor. While he did know the abbot was a transcendent immortal, he didn't know how many Immortal Tribulations he had overcome.
But the aura and power he had demonstrated showed that it was something that could transcend mere cultivation base.
For that wasn't just the power of a person, that was the power of the Buddhist Dao itself.
