IBHJ 1222

Manaka couldn't hide her surprise as she looked at Ayaka, who was actually standing up for her.

"Oh? Are you actually defending this monster, Ayaka?" Demonic Bodhisattva looked genuinely surprised. She wouldn't have been shocked if anyone else had stood up for Manaka—but Ayaka was the last person she expected.

"I'm not defending her," Ayaka said firmly. "No matter who she is or how she came to be, she's still Manaka Sajyou. I can't just turn off my hatred, disgust, and fear. But I don't understand what you're really after!"

"I see. Looks like Laeticia didn't tell you my true purpose," Demonic Bodhisattva replied calmly.

"Your true purpose...?"

"Back in 2003, when that thing attacked Pan-Human History. The Emperor, born from Mordred's despair and hope, came looking for answers, searching for the Eternal King. At that time, I was completely devoted to the Lord of Salvation, but then I saw the Emperor. That's when I realized what I truly wanted deep inside. That moment split my soul, and that's how that cursed Kiara Sessyoin came to be..."

"No! You're lying!" Ayaka stared hard at her. "I've been wondering why you act so strangely toward Kiara. You keep saying you want to destroy her, but every time you hold back. I was confused until Kiara told me she could absorb your power. Then it all made sense. You weren't holding back on purpose—you had no choice. Because Kiara didn't come from you. You came from her."

Manaka stared at Ayaka in surprise. Since when did her sister—who wasn't exactly known for being quick on the uptake—become so perceptive? She'd somehow figured out the truth about Demonic Bodhisattva that even others hadn't realized.

Demonic Bodhisattva's face darkened as she fixed her cold gaze on Ayaka.

"It seems I've hit the mark." Ayaka said, taking a deep breath. "So why did Kiara create you in the first place?"

Demonic Bodhisattva was quiet for a moment before her lips curled into a smile. "Trust me, you don't want to know that answer. But I can at least tell you what I'm after. I've always served the Lord of Salvation with everything I had because my desires could never be satisfied. The only thing that brought me any joy was watching more and more people fall into ruin. I always thought nothing would ever be enough for me... until I met the Emperor."

"The Emperor..." Ayaka repeated softly.

"That's right. When I first encountered the Emperor, everything finally clicked. I realized why I'd never been able to satisfy myself—it wasn't because my desires were too strong, but because I'd never understood what I truly wanted. What I've been searching for all along was a world completely free of desire!"

Everyone stared at Demonic Bodhisattva, completely stunned.

"But don't you see? As long as the Lord of Salvation exists, as long as the Vessel of Evil exists, as long as the Beast exists—even if I drain every last drop of desire from all intelligent life in this world, it could all be easily undone!"

"Draining all desire from every intelligent being..." Xuanzang gasped.

"Which is exactly why there's no place for you in my world!" Demonic Bodhisattva glared at Ritsuka and Manaka before throwing her hand forward. "Attack them!"

Ritsuka and the others tensed, ready for battle. But seconds ticked by after her command, and nothing happened.

Demonic Bodhisattva's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Looks like those Imperial soldiers aren't quite as loyal as you thought," Ritsuka said with a smirk.

"So what? Manaka's nearly drained of power, and as for you—I'll admit I couldn't match Beast VII at full strength, but you've wasted most of your energy fighting Manaka. None of you can stand against me now. This is where your journey ends!"

"You sound pretty confident about that," Ritsuka said with a casual smile.

Demonic Bodhisattva scoffed. "Your bluffing skills aren't nearly as good as your brother's. Don't try to fool me—I know exactly what you are. Just like me and Kama, you only possess half of Beast VII. The other half resides in Olga Marie, who's nothing but a vegetable now."

Ritsuka's smile instantly disappeared. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I know far more than your so-called omniscient friend standing beside you!" Demonic Bodhisattva snarled, her eyes locked on Ritsuka as eight arms appeared behind her back. She lunged forward, all hands reaching for her enemies.

As Ritsuka and Manaka braced themselves for the attack, a soft sigh cut through the tension. Xuanzang stepped between them, hands pressed together in prayer.

"That's enough, Bodhisattva," she said softly.

Demonic Bodhisattva frowned. "Are you really sure you want to stand in my way?"

"Bodhisattva," Xuanzang replied gently, "all phenomena arise from causes and dissolve when those causes expire. The cherry blossom does not rage at the wind that scatters its petals, for it understands this is the nature of existence. Your suffering comes not from what has happened, but from your resistance to the flow of dharma. This is the first noble truth."

"You think this is anger?" Demonic Bodhisattva challenged.

"I now understand your purpose," Xuanzang continued. "The boundary between light and shadow, between following one's nature and defying it—these are not lines drawn in sand but mist upon water. What we call good and evil are often two faces of the same reality. Tell me, Bodhisattva, when you look within the depths of your being, beyond name and form, beyond concept and thought—do you truly recognize what gazes back at you?"

"You misunderstand," Xuanzang said, her voice calm as still water, hands folded within her sleeves. "The 'true scripture' is not ink on paper but the living dharma that illuminates the path to emptiness. It cannot be cultivated like a garden—it must be awakened to, like recognizing your own reflection in a still pond.”

"My journey west isn't merely to collect written texts, but to traverse ten thousand li through mountains and rivers—each step an awakening, each hardship a verse of the true scripture. The Buddha nature is not something distant to become, but something present to uncover.”

"Those who merely cultivate attempt to control nature through action, like trying to smooth waves on water with their hands. Those who truly awaken align with nature's flow, like a leaf carried by the stream. The awakened generate discipline from the clear spring of their original mind, while practitioners strain against their nature through external rules.”

"Even those with perfect faith who mechanically follow precepts—though they may avoid suffering in this life—remain bound to the wheel of samsara, rising and falling between existence and non-existence. Such effort, however sincere, is like drawing circles in water; it cannot lead to the far shore of nirvana.”

"So by your logic, are you claiming to be a Buddha?" Demonic Bodhisattva asked.

Xuanzang smiled gently, her expression serene despite the accusation. "Buddha is not a title to claim, but the infinite ocean of awakening itself. What we call 'Buddha' in human form is merely a vessel carrying a single drop of that boundless sea. Such a vessel, however perfect it may appear, remains defined by its boundaries—and anything with boundaries cannot truly contain the immeasurable.”

"True Buddha-nature transcends all dualities—it is neither perfect nor imperfect, neither complete nor incomplete, for these are merely concepts arising from our discriminating minds. It cannot be attained, for it was never lost; cannot be perfected, for it was never flawed. This is why the sutras speak of 'no attainment' as the highest attainment.”

"This humble monk makes no such lofty claims. I too walk through the world of dust, navigating the currents of desire, aversion, delusion, and attachment. I am simply a traveler on the Eightfold Path, a seeker whose every step toward the West is both the journey and the destination itself. In seeking Buddha, I recognize that what I seek is already present—though often clouded by the ten thousand things."

"I'm done wasting time on philosophical debates," Demonic Bodhisattva snapped. "If you don't want to be sent back to Samsara, then get out of my way!"

With a shout, her hands transformed into massive blades that she swung directly at her.

Xuanzang showed no sign of fear. She simply brought her palms together, closed her eyes, and began reciting something under her breath.

"Look out, Xuanzang!" everyone shouted in panic.