Chapter 14: The Confrontation in the Sacred Palace

Surya stormed into the grand halls of the Sacred Land's palace, his footsteps echoing with a purpose that sent tremors through the ancient stone. The towering columns adorned with golden statues of past Buddhas, and the walls painted with murals depicting tales of enlightenment, now seemed tainted. The sanctity of the place had been corrupted, twisted by the presence of a false deity, and Surya's heart burned with a righteous fury.

"How could anyone allow such a monstrosity to rule the Sacred Land of Buddha?" Surya muttered under his breath, his eyes scanning the opulence that surrounded him—a throne of gold, adorned with jewels, seated at the end of the grand hall, once reserved for a true guardian of wisdom. Now it was merely a pedestal of deception.

As Surya advanced, he saw them—Buddhism's highest council, the revered elders and keepers of the land. They cowered in the shadows, their faces hidden, too ashamed to meet his gaze. Their fine robes, embroidered with symbols of virtue, felt like mockeries against their own actions.

Surya's eyes blazed as he spoke, his voice resonating like a divine command. "Step forth! Who among you has allowed greed to infest the holiest of places? Who betrayed the sanctity of these sacred grounds?"

At his words, the council members trembled, their heads hung low in shame. But before any of them could muster a response, a figure emerged from the crowd—a beautiful woman adorned in regal silks, her face pale and stricken with tears. Surya's breath caught as he recognized her. His adoptive mother, the woman who had raised him with love and wisdom, now stood before him, her expression a mixture of sorrow and joy.

"My son… I knew it was you," she whispered, her voice breaking as she rushed forward, her hands trembling. Gold and gems hung from her neck, each piece a testament to the opulence she had embraced. "You've grown so big, so strong… the boy I raised is now a man, a force unlike any other."

Surya's face, however, remained stern, disappointment etched into every line. He did not embrace her. Instead, he looked at her with piercing eyes, eyes that saw through the illusion of her wealth and status. "Mother," he began, his voice calm but cutting, "what have you become?"

The warmth in her gaze faltered, replaced by a pained confusion. "Surya, my son, I—"

"You stand here in robes of gold while the truth rots beneath you," Surya interrupted, his tone sharp as a blade. "Greed has taken root even in the hearts of those who once swore to uphold the teachings of the Buddha. You allowed this False Buddha to corrupt the sacred ways, and for what? Wealth? Power? Comfort?"

His mother recoiled as if struck, tears spilling down her cheeks. "It's not what you think! He deceived us all. He promised salvation, protection—"

"Empty promises made to empty hearts," Surya shot back. "Look around you. Your silence, your compliance—it has cost this land its soul."

As Surya's words echoed through the hall, the other elders, those most loyal to the teachings of the Buddha, slowly raised their heads. Their faces were wracked with guilt and fear, and one by one, they began to plead.

"We were tricked!" one elder cried, his voice quivering. "The False Buddha manipulated us. His power was terrifying, and we had no choice but to submit!"

"He forced his will upon us," another added, tears streaming down her face. "We are victims, too."

But Surya's patience had run thin. He slammed his staff against the ground, the sound reverberating like thunder. "You dare lie to me, knowing full well that my eyes can pierce through even the thickest deceptions? You are not victims—you are willing accomplices. You chose comfort over conviction, status over truth. You are no better than the False Buddha, perhaps even worse."

The council members flinched, their excuses dying on their lips. The room fell silent, heavy with the weight of Surya's judgment.

"It seems," Surya continued, his voice now cold and unyielding, "that the world has become a haven for sin, even in places once deemed sacred."

The elders, desperate and humiliated, lashed out. "Who are you to judge us?" one of them shouted, his tone laced with bitterness. "Since you were a child, you never acted like a true Buddha! You defied tradition, mocked our ways, and rebelled against every teaching. What makes you any different?"

"You are nothing but a cheeky boy, clever with words and tricks," another added. "You never followed our customs, our laws. Doesn't that make you as false as the one you accuse?"

Surya's eyes flared with an inner light as he clenched his staff, his patience finally breaking. "Enough!" he roared, his voice carrying the weight of mountains. "You speak of tradition, of customs, as if they alone define enlightenment. But what is enlightenment that is chained by conformity? It is not your robes or rituals that make you wise, nor your status that makes you just."

He pointed his staff at the council, his presence towering. "You accuse me of being a rebel, and you are right. I am the Rebel Buddha. I am not bound by the empty traditions that you hold so dear. I was born free, a Buddha from birth who sought liberation, not through stale doctrines but through truth and action."

Surya's words cut deep, each sentence a blade of reality. "You, however, have let negative karma overwhelm your very souls. Your arrogance, your greed, and your cowardice are laid bare for all to see."

As Surya spoke, a strange force filled the hall. It was as if the very air responded to his will, bending and shifting as he declared their fate. The elders gasped as the weight of their sins manifested before them.

"To those whose greed blinded them, you shall be vagrants, wandering the streets with nothing but the rags on your backs," Surya proclaimed, his voice filled with the power of divine retribution. "To those whose desire for status led them astray, you shall age into weakness, your wealth withered to dust. And to those who let arrogance guide their actions, you shall lose all that you hold dear, left with nothing but your shame."

The elders cried out as their bodies changed before the eyes of all who watched. Rich robes turned to tatters, jewels vanished, and the once powerful were reduced to the frail and the destitute.

Surya turned away, his heart heavy yet resolute. "I am Buddha, a true Buddha, the Rebel Buddha. I do not need titles, temples, or the approval of men. I walk my own path, for that is the path of true liberation."

As he left the palace, Surya's figure seemed to shine with an inner light, his presence a reminder that true power lay not in control or deception, but in the courage to confront one's own flaws. The people watched in silence, knowing that the man who had saved them was unlike any they had ever seen—a Buddha who defied all expectations, who spoke truths that stung yet healed, and who would not be swayed by the false comforts of tradition.

The land, once clouded by deceit, now basked in the light of hard-earned truth. And though Surya sought no praise, his actions had set a new standard, a beacon for those who dared to seek the path of true enlightenment.