Villain: The hostess collapsed after killing the woman to preach

On the battlefield in the west filled with blood and death, the fierce battle between the Killing Monk and Asura is in full swing. Every attack and defense involves the fate of the entire battle.

The Shaxin monk was like the Buddha who had descended to the earth. His figure was as straight as a pine tree, and he stood there like the embodiment of compassion and strength.

The demon-subduing pestle in his hand, under the reflection of the Buddha's light, burst into an extremely bright light. The light was like the scorching sun in the sky, hot and dazzling. Wherever it went, it seemed to be able to dispel all the evil in the world.

Every ray of light is like a sword of justice, cutting off the shackles of darkness and leaving evil nowhere to hide.

The Buddhist scriptures he recited were like divine sounds from the sky, echoing over the battlefield like a huge bell.

The voice carried a mysterious rhythm, and each syllable contained endless power of Buddhism, as if the purest energy in the universe was resonating.

For the soldiers and believers who were fighting bloody battles, the Buddhist music was like finding a quiet island in the ocean of brutal fighting, which brought a moment of comfort to their tired hearts.

But for Asura, this Buddhist sound was like a sharp thorn, piercing deep into his soul. It was an unbearable and huge deterrent. Every note seemed to be striking at his evil nature, trying to awaken the conscience deep in his heart that was completely swallowed up by the darkness.

Although Asura was strong, he gradually showed signs of defeat under the wave after wave of attacks from the Killing Monk.

His golden body, which was once as solid as a rock and seemed to last as long as the heaven and earth, now began to show tiny cracks, like fragile glass.

The cracks were as thin as spider silk at first, looming on his skin that exuded an evil glow, like undercurrents hidden beneath the calm surface of a lake.

However, as the killing monk continued to attack, these cracks spread rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye, and soon covered his entire body. They were like cracks that appeared in the earth during drought, crisscrossing, deep and hideous.

Black spiritual power continuously seeped out from these cracks, like the blood of a devil, emitting a pungent smell of death.

The black spiritual power seemed to have life, twisting and swirling in the air, trying to break free of some kind of restraint. This was a sign that his evil power was gradually leaking out of control.

Each strand of black spiritual power is like a little demon, emitting malice towards the world. They struggle in the sunlight but cannot escape the suppression of Buddhism and can only form a gloomy and terrifying atmosphere around them.

Although Asura was still madly waving the two sickles in his hands that were emitting strange light, trying to launch a final counterattack, the attack had lost its former sharpness and domineering power, and every swing seemed extremely strenuous.

His movements were no longer smooth. The sickle that could easily cut through space now seemed a little sluggish as it passed through the air, like a rusty, blunt knife cutting into tough steel.

Although his eyes were still filled with bloodthirsty fanaticism, a hint of despair was faintly revealed in the depths of that fanaticism, as if he had foreseen his own fate of failure. However, his proud nature drove him to make a final struggle, like a drowning man desperately grasping at the last straw.

The killer monk had sharp eyes and he keenly sensed Asura's decline.

He looked solemn, his face as resolute as a carved stone statue, and the sound of his scriptures became louder and louder. The sound was like a surging river, one wave higher than the other, setting off an invisible spiritual storm on the battlefield.

Afterwards, he gathered all the spiritual power in his body to one point like hundreds of rivers flowing into the sea. This process was like the stars in the universe collapsing, and all the energy was compressed to the extreme.

At this moment, the Buddha's light on his body suddenly shone to its utmost, and the light was so bright that it seemed to light up the entire sky.

Golden light gushed out of his body like a volcanic eruption, spreading out in all directions, enveloping him in a huge golden light ball. This light ball was like a newborn sun, emitting endless heat and light, and the surrounding air was distorted by the burning light.

He shouted loudly, and the sound was like rolling spring thunder, shaking the heaven and earth. It was also like the roar of an ancient beast, containing endless power.

He himself was like a furious Vajra, rushing towards Asura with an indomitable momentum. His figure was extremely tall and majestic against the backdrop of the light, and every step he took seemed to step on the heartstrings of the crowd, making everyone around him feel the strong sense of oppression.

This strike brought together all his life's cultivation, carried his dedication and perseverance to justice, and was the strongest voice he made to protect world peace.

I saw an extremely bright golden light, as if it contained the power of the stars in the entire universe, spurting out from the demon-subduing pestle. This light streaked across the sky like a burning meteor, and rushed straight towards Asura with a devastating momentum.

Wherever the meteor passed, the space was torn into black cracks, as if the universe was making way for this powerful force.

The front end of the golden light was like a huge drill, carrying unparalleled momentum, ready to crush everything that stood in its way.

Asura felt this deadly threat that seemed like the Last Judgment Day, and for the first time, fear appeared on his originally ferocious face.

His pupils contracted rapidly, and the golden light that was getting closer and closer was reflected in his eyes, as if he saw his own end.

He used up his last bit of strength and concentrated all the black spiritual power in his body in front of him like a volcanic eruption, trying to build the last line of defense.

In an instant, a huge shield formed by the gathering of black spiritual power appeared in front of him. Various demons with bared fangs and hideous faces appeared on the shield. They had different shapes, some with huge wings, some with multiple heads and arms, and each of them exuded a terrifying aura.

These demonic figures kept twisting and struggling on the shields. They opened their bloody mouths and roared. The sound was like a call from hell, as if they wanted to drag everything in the world into an endless dark abyss.

They seemed to want to use this evil power to devour the upcoming golden light, use darkness to fight against light, and use evil to resist justice.

However, in the face of the powerful attack from the Killing Monk that condensed the endless power of justice, his shield was like a fragile bubble and was instantly shattered.

The golden light penetrated Asura's body unimpeded, accompanied by a deafening roar that seemed to tear apart time and space. Asura's huge head was blown up by this unparalleled force, like a gorgeous firework blooming in the night sky.

His head turned into countless black fragments and flew around. Each fragment carried his remaining evil spiritual power and quickly dissipated in the air.

Then his huge body fell to the ground with a loud bang, raising a cloud of dust, like a collapsed mountain. The once feared leader of the Shura Sect completely disappeared from this world.

His death, like a huge rock thrown into a calm lake, caused huge waves on the battlefield.

For a moment, the battlefield fell into dead silence. Both the army of the ancient kingdom of Galan and the Buddhists were stunned by this shocking scene.

They seemed to be under a spell of immobilization, standing there blankly, their eyes fixed on the place where Asura disappeared, their minds blank, and they even forgot to breathe.

The thrilling scene just now left a deep impression in their hearts. It was a display of powerful strength beyond their imagination, and it gave them a whole new understanding of the war before them.

Immediately afterwards, cheers rang out on the battlefield like a surging wave. The cheers gathered into a powerful force that broke through the haze brought by the war.

Soldiers raised their weapons high, and believers chanted Buddhist mantras. Their voices intertwined to form a song of victory. They thought that this tragic war had finally ushered in the dawn of victory, and the hope of peace seemed to have returned to this war-torn land at this moment. The cheers echoed on the battlefield and spread far and wide, as if to tell every corner of the world about this good news.

However, fate always seems to like to deal a heavy blow to people when they are most proud.

Just as everyone was immersed in the joy of victory and had not yet recovered from the shock of Asura being killed, something strange happened suddenly.

The originally clear, cloudless sky was instantly covered by dark clouds. The dark clouds were so fierce that they were like ferocious beasts with bared fangs and claws, rolling and roaring in the sky, as if they were going to swallow up the whole world.

They gathered from all directions at an extremely fast speed, blocking the sun in an instant and plunging the entire battlefield into darkness.

Amidst the lightning and thunder, a figure cut through the sky like a meteor and descended from the sky with an unstoppable momentum.

This man is tall and sturdy, wearing a black armor inlaid with various mysterious runes. The runes flash with strange light, as if telling an ancient and evil story.

He held a huge golden scimitar in his hand. The scimitar was more than one person tall. The blade was broad and heavy, emitting a chilling cold light, like the scythe of the god of death. It seemed that it could cut the thread of life with just a slight swing.

The blade was engraved with intricate patterns, which seemed to come alive under the light, twisting and wriggling, giving people a creepy feeling, as if the blade itself was a living evil being forged by the god of death himself.

He exuded a strong evil aura, which spread out in all directions like a substance, suffocating the people around him. It was a mixture of blood, death, darkness and despair, like an invisible hand, tightly grasping people's throats and suffocating them.

Under this powerful pressure, many people involuntarily took a few steps back. Their faces turned pale as paper, their eyes were filled with fear, and their bodies trembled slightly with fear.

"I am the Golden Blade Rakshasa, the messenger of Lord Wu Jin!"

The man shouted loudly, his voice was like the cry of a night owl, sharp and piercing, full of arrogance and disdain, echoing on the battlefield, making everyone feel cold. That voice seemed to carry a kind of magic that could directly penetrate people's souls and plant the seeds of fear in their hearts.

He stood there, looking at the people around him with contempt, as if he was looking at a group of ants. This look made everyone present feel extremely angry, but besides the anger, they were more afraid of his powerful strength.

Seeing this, the Killing Monk frowned slightly. He could clearly feel the suffocatingly powerful evil force from the person in front of him, but his eyes were still as firm as a rock, without the slightest fear.

He held the demon-subduing pestle tightly in both hands and took a step forward. Each step was steady and powerful, as if the earth was shaking with his footsteps. There was a flame of justice burning in his eyes, and the flame burned more and more vigorously, as if to burn all the evil before him.

"Don't be so arrogant, you evil heretic! Even if I have to risk my life today, I will definitely kill you and bring peace to the world!"

Sha Xin's words echoed on the battlefield like a solemn oath, making everyone around him feel his determination and courage.

After that, he raised the demon-subduing pestle again, and the Buddha's light shone around him. The Buddha's light was like a layer of golden armor, protecting him. He attacked the Golden Blade Rakshasa, and every move was full of power, as if carrying the power of heaven and earth.

Upon seeing this, Golden Blade Rakshasa curled up a disdainful sneer at the corner of his mouth, and his smile was full of contempt for the murderous monk.