"It's been a long time, Father of the Earth."
"Indeed, it has. But I must say, I'm quite curious—where did you four find the courage to face me again? Four Heavenly Kings." Maierin sneered coldly.
The ones who had trapped Maierin and his companions were none other than the Four Heavenly Kings of Buddhism, also known as the Four Great Diamond Guardians. They were the protector deities of Buddhism: Dhṛtarāṣṭra, Virūḍhaka, Virūpākṣa, and Vaiśravaṇa.
• Dhṛtarāṣṭra (He who Upholds the Nation): Named for his compassion, he protects all beings and safeguards the land. He is depicted in white armor and wields a pipa (lute), symbolizing his role as the deity of music.
• Virūḍhaka (He who Causes Growth): His name signifies his power to inspire and increase virtue in all beings, thus upholding Buddhist teachings. He appears in blue armor and carries a precious sword.
• Virūpākṣa (He who Sees All): His name reflects his ability to perceive the world through his celestial eyes and protect people. He is portrayed in red armor, leading a legion of dragons, with a crimson dragon coiling around his arm.
• Vaiśravaṇa (He who Hears All): Also known as Bishamon, his fame and merit spread in all directions. Residing on the Crystal Peak of Mount Sumeru, he is depicted in green armor, holding a divine umbrella in his right hand and a treasure-seeking rat in his left. He subdues demons and ensures prosperity for the faithful. He is also venerated as the God of Wealth.
These four had once followed Shakyamuni when he besieged Maierin. Though they had not personally struck him, Maierin never forgot them. He had not yet gone to settle the old score, yet they had come knocking on his door.
Since they were here, they would not be leaving.
"We mean no disrespect to your might, but you must understand the importance of the Buddha's Reincarnation to our faith. Please, surrender him to us," Dhṛtarāṣṭra, the eldest, requested respectfully—though his words lacked any genuine reverence.
"Heh, so stealing my child does not count as an offense?" Maierin sneered.
"Brother, why waste words with him? His wounds haven't fully healed. If we attack together, we can seize the child immediately!" the hot-tempered Virūḍhaka urged.
"Hold your temper! We must avoid conflict unless necessary," Dhṛtarāṣṭra scolded.
"But he's clearly not going to hand the child over!"
"Let's just take him by force."
"As long as we bring the child back and shut our gates, I doubt he would dare storm the Buddhist Realm!"
Dhṛtarāṣṭra hesitated. The memory of Maierin's last battle in the Mythological Era haunted him. If not for Shakyamuni's quick retreat, they would have perished at Maierin's sword, without even a chance to resist.
But Maierin was no longer the god-slaying demon of old. His power had only recovered to the Eighth Sense. Killing him was impossible, but snatching the child and escaping? That was doable.
Would they, however, suffer Maierin's wrath afterward?
"No matter! We'll seize the child and retreat to the Buddhist Realm—our domain. Even Maierin wouldn't dare act recklessly there!" Dhṛtarāṣṭra steeled himself and gave his brothers a covert signal before declaring, "The Buddha's Reincarnation determines the future of our faith. Forgive us, Lord Maierin, for this offense!"
"Hmph, still the same as ever—speaking saintly words while acting as thieves," Asura scoffed.
"Impudent!"
"How dare you!"
"Arrogant wretch!"
"You, a mere insect, dare judge us true Buddhas?!"
The Four Heavenly Kings roared in unison.
Maierin shook his head and teased Asura, "It seems you've changed so much they don't even recognize you."
"No matter. I remember them." Asura stepped forward, his body undergoing a transformation. His once pale, withered hair darkened and grew sleek, his frail frame became muscular and strong, and his gaunt face regained its former handsomeness—albeit now exuding an overwhelming aura of murderous intent.
"You! Y-You're—"
"Impossible!"
"You should be dead!"
"This cannot be! We killed you ourselves! Who are you?!"
As the Four Kings beheld Asura's restored form, terror gripped them. He was the last person they wished to face—even more than Maierin or Athena.
"Do you remember now?" Asura's voice was filled with hatred. "Then tell me—do you also recall the slaughter of my ten thousand clansmen?"
"You! Hmph! I don't know how you survived, but we killed you once—we can kill you again!" Virūḍhaka roared.
"Lord Maierin, this is Buddhism's internal matter. Please, do not interfere!" Dhṛtarāṣṭra said cautiously, unwilling to act while Maierin remained a threat.
"Haha, that's unfortunate. Asura works for me now. If you attack my employee, it's my business." Maierin spoke nonchalantly. Dhṛtarāṣṭra's face darkened. If Maierin interfered, not only would they fail to capture the reincarnated Buddha, but they might not even escape unscathed.
"However… Asura, what do you want to do?" Maierin shifted the decision to him.
"This is my vengeance to claim. Let me settle it myself," Asura replied firmly.
"Understood." Maierin nodded. He already had an idea of what had transpired all those years ago. Such blood vengeance had to be repaid, lest it fester and become an eternal shadow.
The Four Heavenly Kings took this as a chance. Seeing that Maierin would not intervene, they immediately surrounded Asura.
"Foolish! You dare face all four of us alone?!"
"Still as stupid as before!"
"Attack together! Leave him no chance!"
With that, Dhṛtarāṣṭra strummed his jade pipa, sending waves of golden Buddhist script crashing down; Virūḍhaka swung his divine sword, summoning a storm of blade winds and lightning; Virūpākṣa's dragon coiled into the sky, commanding an army of spectral dragons to unleash elemental breath attacks; and Vaiśravaṇa unfurled his Pearl Umbrella, summoning a torrential downpour—each raindrop carving deep into the ground.
As these devastating forces bore down, Asura merely smirked. He clenched his right fist and punched upward.
Boom!
A single strike. The sky ripped. The earth shattered. Space itself cracked apart. The divine assault collapsed in an instant.
"Is that all? Pathetic. After all these years, you haven't improved one bit." Asura's voice dripped with contempt.
"Impossible!"
"How can he be so strong?!"
"He destroyed our combined attack with one punch!?"
The Four Kings stood frozen, minds overwhelmed by fear.
"Back then, you only won by taking my people hostage. Had I not feigned death, I would never have believed you liars would slaughter them anyway. Now, it's time for you to pay!"
Asura's rage erupted. His demonic aura flooded forth, forming a towering three-headed, six-armed Asura manifestation. Each face bore a different expression—one serene, one wrathful, one indifferent. His fists, glowing black-red, exuded an aura sharper than any divine weapon.
"A demon! He's become a demon!"
"Heretic! You vile heretic!"
"You've fallen into darkness! We shall purge you!"
"Fools."
Asura's feet rested upon a blooming Golden Lotus, its divine radiance merging perfectly with his demonic presence.
"The Creation Lotus?!"
"Impossible! Why does a Buddhist sacred artifact coexist with demonic energy?!"
"You wouldn't understand," Asura said coldly.
And in the next moment—he slaughtered them all.