325: Chapter 326 Rebuilding Nalanda, Settling Karmic Ties

The gates of the Red Fort drew closer and closer.

But in the end, Lu Chen did not walk toward them.

The direction was wrong.

To kill the chicken to warn the monkey?

No.

Lu Chen's goal was never to simply lop off a few branches.

What he intended to do was to plant a completely different seed directly into this land.

A seed powerful enough to subvert everything.

He turned around, putting his back to the palace in Delhi that symbolized the Sultan's authority.

He began to walk once more.

This time, there was no earth-shaking Aura, nor any supernatural phenomena like shrinking the earth to a single step.

Like a Buddha accompanied by two consorts, he walked step by step through the streets of Delhi.

His figure blended into the bustling crowds and passed through filthy alleys.

The surrounding clamor, oppression, and despair seemed isolated from him.

The vajra peg in his hand vibrated gently, emitting a nearly inaudible hum.

It was like a hungry beast scenting blood.

Or perhaps like a Magical Artifact sensing some kind of summons.

Lu Chen's pace was not fast, yet it was exceptionally firm, leading toward a clear destination.

To the southeast.

There once lay the ancient Kingdom of Magadha.

There once stood a glorious sanctuary of Buddhist learning.

Nalanda Monastery.

...

The sun rose and the moon set.

Lu Chen's figure left the heart of the Delhi Sultanate, traveling toward the Bihar Plains in the southeast.

He did not choose the main roads, but instead traversed the countryside.

The sights before him were no better than those inside the city of Delhi.

The fields were barren, and the villages were in ruins.

Resistance?

There had been sporadic instances.

The results were only more brutal suppression: massacres, looting, and forced conversions.

Turkic and Afghan mercenaries swept through like a plague of locusts; they were the claws the Sultan used to maintain his rule and the machines that manufactured fear.

Lu Chen passed by a burned-out village.

Amidst the broken walls and charred wooden beams, the faint scent of blood and the stench of burning still lingered in the air.

A few surviving villagers, like startled birds, huddled in the corners of the ruins. Seeing a strange Daoist like Lu Chen, their eyes held only fear and numbness.

Lu Chen did not stop and continued forward.

His robes remained clean, untouched by a single speck of dust.

His gaze remained calm, without a ripple of emotion.

It was as if all the suffering in the world could leave no mark on his heart.

Or perhaps, the storm brewing within him far surpassed everything he saw before him.

...

Several days later.

A vast expanse of ruins appeared before Lu Chen's eyes.

Broken foundations, fallen stone pillars, and shattered bricks and tiles were scattered everywhere.

Wild grass grew rampantly among the rubble, speaking to the desolation of the place.

One could vaguely make out that this had once been a grand architectural complex with a rigorous layout.

But now, only endless remains were left.

This was Nalanda.

Once a center of Buddhist learning that had flourished for nearly eight hundred years, it was a place where Padmasambhava had also cultivated and preached, pushing the esoteric methods to their peak.

Now, only the deathly silence following its total destruction by the Turkic-Afghan iron cavalry remained.

The air was thick with the dust of history.

Lu Chen slowly walked into the ruins.

The gravel beneath his feet made a crunching sound.

He stopped in a relatively open central area.

This might have once been the foundation of a main hall.

He looked around at this land ravaged by the fires of war.

There were no sighs, no anger.

He just stood there quietly.

Then, he slowly raised his right hand.

Palm facing upward.

Buzz—

Space distorted slightly.

In the next moment, massive, uncarved rocks appeared out of thin air on the empty ground before him.

These rocks possessed a strange bluish-white color, their surfaces smooth and faintly shimmering with luster.

They were not of this place, carrying a frigid Aura from a high, freezing altitude.

Rocks from the Himalayas!

The moment these giant stones appeared, the surrounding air seemed to freeze.

The wild grass stopped swaying, and even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

Lu Chen's left hand formed a strange mudra.

He did not chant any incantations.

Yet an invisible, majestic power suddenly radiated outward with him at the center!

"Rise!"

A soft command.

It was as if his words were law.

With the experience of building the sanctuary in the Ethereal Wonderland and constructing roads and bridges within the territories of Japan and the Ming Dynasty...

A magnificent building rose from the ground at a speed visible to the naked eye!

Foundations, walls, pillars, roofs...

Everything was reshaped and constructed in an instant!

Those sacred stones from the snowy regions formed the skeleton and core of the building, emitting a faint glow.

In just the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

A brand new, majestic, and holy-Aura-emitting giant temple stood atop the ruins!

It was not a complete restoration of the ancient Nalanda style, but rather a Fusion of Lu Chen's own understanding and power.

It was taller and more imposing.

The overall structure presented a solemn and heavy feel, yet carried a hint of the mystery unique to esoteric methods.

The walls were as smooth as jade, shimmering with a warm luster.

It possessed both the compassion of Buddhism and the hidden majesty of a Vajra.

The temple was completed.

The surrounding dust slowly settled.

The sunlight hit the newborn temple, reflecting a light so brilliant one dared not look directly at it.

An indescribable Aura spread out from within the temple.

Solemn and holy, yet carrying an unquestionable deterrent force.

Lu Chen withdrew his hand and stood with his arms behind his back.

Looking at this miracle he had created with his own hands, his expression remained calm.

Finally, Lu Chen stepped forward toward the temple gates.

The gates opened silently.

Inside was a spacious main hall, tall Buddha statues, and in the very center, a giant lotus throne carved from a single piece of snowy-region white stone.

Lu Chen walked to the lotus throne.

The vajra peg, a Sharp Weapon for subduing demons, also seemed to sense the Aura of this place, vibrating slightly and emitting a clear, high-pitched hum.

Then, Lu Chen sat cross-legged upon the lotus throne.

Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi stood on either side.

Lu Chen closed his eyes.

The entire temple seemed to become an extension of his body.

An invisible ripple spread out from him in circles, like waves on water.

There was no sound.

There were no words.

But this ripple contained a certain message, a certain will.

It swept across the wilderness, across the villages, and even spread toward distant towns.

Farmers working in the fields suddenly stopped their labor and looked blankly in the direction of Nalanda.

They seemed to hear something, yet they also seemed to hear nothing at all.

But an inexplicable throb rose in their hearts.

Artisans struggling for survival in nearby towns put down their tools and listened intently.

The air seemed to have gained an indescribable rhythm.

It was as if a pebble had been tossed into the hearts of all the sentient beings who were being oppressed, exploited, and struggling in despair.

Astonishment, confusion, and a hint of... faint hope?

What was this?

A miracle?

Had the great god Vishnu manifested? Or had the great god Shiva unleashed his wrath?

No one knew.

But the giant temple that had suddenly appeared in the direction of Nalanda, radiating Holy Light, along with that silently transmitted ripple, had already acted like a thunderclap, shattering the long-standing deathly silence of this land.

Lu Chen remained sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed.

His 'teaching of the Dharma' had already begun.

Not through words, but through his very existence.

Through this temple that had risen from the ground, and through this silently transmitted will.

He wanted to tell everyone on this land, and tell those high and mighty rulers—

Old temples can be destroyed.

But as long as someone is willing to plant them, the seeds of faith can take root and sprout again anywhere, in any way.

And this time, it would carry the wrath of the Vajra.

Lu Chen slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze calmly turned toward the northwest—the direction of Delhi.

The seeds of Karma had been sown.

Now, he only had to wait for the wind to rise.

The wind would not take long.

The rulers of this land would never tolerate such 'heresy' appearing right under their noses.

A storm was coming.