The Supreme Satanic System

Before Damien could react, Olivia seized his hand and in a flash, they both flickered away, reappearing on the riverbank. A deafening explosion, a cacophony of bangs and kabooms, rent the tranquil air as the once-white boat disintegrated into a fiery maelstrom of wreckage.

"Mahavira, what is the meaning of this?" Olivia inquired, her gaze piercing like daggers.

"Both you and I are aware that we have some unresolved matters. To commence, you can return my Five-Carat Shadow Stone, and I shall be out of your hair, allowing your delightful date to proceed uninterrupted," the monk stated with an inscrutable smile. "Consider this, he is a charming man, but in terms of strength, he falls quite short." He cast a wry glance in Damien's direction, who offered a knowing grin in return.

Infuriated, Olivia roared at the top of her lungs, "Dare to threaten my husband in my presence, and today, I shall send you to meet your Buddha!"

"Oli, calm down. He's merely attempting to provoke you," Damien reminded her, his touch soothing as he caressed her hand. Then, he turned to the monk and declared, "I care not who you are, Mister Bald Donkey. However, I suggest you depart forthwith, or..."

"Or what?" Monk Mahavira narrowed his eyes.

"Or I shall instruct my beloved wife to separate your bald pate from your neck and kindly return it to its rightful place," Damien responded with unwavering confidence, prompting Olivia to burst into hearty laughter.

Playfully pinching her flushed cheek, he added, "Quite the jest, don't you think?"

"Indeed, it strikes precisely the right chord," Olivia continued to chuckle.

The once-jovial monk now felt a queasy sensation in his stomach. "Very well, I have decided to eliminate both of you and recover my property later."

"Hmph! With just you? Keep dreaming," Olivia retorted. With a graceful gesture, she waved her right palm through the air, and suddenly, a torrent of crimson merlot descended from the heavens. The phoenix let out a shrill chirp before its lifeless form splashed into the river, mingling red and white droplets on the surface. "This is your retribution for spitting fire at my husband," Olivia declared, pointing towards the monk, who remained afloat high above in the sky. "You're next."

"Indeed, I concede my inferiority when measured against your prowess. Nevertheless, I have come prepared this time," Monk Mahavira whistled, and with several spatial fluctuations, five figures materialized in the air above the river. They all donned saffron tunics, and their most distinguishing feature was their shared baldness.

"More Buddhist monks!" Damien muttered. He then communicated telepathically with Cynthia, 'Cynthia, perform a quick scan of all of them.'

"Completed!" Cynthia's voice resonated in his head. A notification flashed in his mind, revealing that all five monks possessed an Energy Level of 588, with Monk Mahavira matching Olivia Quinelly's level at 589. Damien found this discrepancy perplexing. 'Oli and that monk clearly share the same energy level, yet he openly admits his inferiority to her in terms of strength.'

Olivia gently caressed Damien's hand and declared, "You remain here. I shall confront and contend with all of them." Even in the face of their numbers and formidable powers, she displayed a resolute confidence and an unwavering pride.

"Very well, I'll keep a watchful eye on your back," Damien replied, though it was a mere formality, for it was clear that Olivia needed no protection.

With an understanding smile, Olivia propelled herself into the air like a bullet, arriving beside Monk Mahavira in an instant. "Slayer Keeper, I delivered the final blow, so the Shadow Stone belongs to me," she asserted, her voice resounding with determination. She aimed a forceful punch at his abdomen, which the monk deftly parried with a silver staff that had materialized in his hands seemingly out of thin air.

Pang! The impact resonated, sending Mahavira hurtling backward and shattering the staff into countless shards along his trajectory. Regaining his footing in midair, the monk shouted, "My brothers, assume the formation!"

In a synchronized flicker, the five monks converged into a strategic formation beside Mahavira. With clasped palms, they chanted, "Amitabha!" and unfurled a lengthy scroll adorned with Buddhist scriptures, each monk reciting a different mantra. Inexplicably, the Sanskrit inscriptions on the parchment came to life, hovering in the air before coalescing onto Monk Mahavira's bald head. Over fifty thousand yellow Sanskrit characters seemed to meld into a tattoo-like pattern on his bare scalp, prompting an intrigued glance from Olivia.

"Golden Buddha Palm Strike!" Mahavira cried, gesturing with his right palm. Instantaneously, a colossal golden palm materialized in the heavens, descending directly upon Olivia.

Olivia, however, met the challenge head-on. She exerted pressure upon the air with her feet, launching herself toward the approaching palm. As she surged forward, she positioned herself before the gargantuan hand and delivered a forceful punch to its center. Bang! The descending palm was halted, and Olivia was compelled to retreat ten feet due to the opposing force. Yet, with a deft manipulation of her foot, she pressurized the air once more, releasing a plume of white vapor as she propelled herself upwards. This time, an unrelenting barrage of punches emanated from both her fists, relentlessly pushing against the colossal palm. With each impact, sparks of golden light scattered in all directions. After a minute of ceaseless and overpowering strikes, the Golden Buddha Palm succumbed to Olivia's relentless onslaught, shattering into innumerable flecks of gold. Kaboom!

Unyielding and undeterred, Olivia did not cease her assault. Her form became a blur, flickering through the air until she was within range to engage in close combat with Monk Mahavira once more.

Mahavira, however, continued his chanting, culminating with a resounding declaration: "Buddha Avatar with Ten Thousand Hands Embodiment, transform!" The Sanskrit texts adorning his bald head emitted a radiant golden glow, and his form underwent a startling transformation. He grew to a towering twelve-foot golden figure with elongated ears, boasting an astounding array of five thousand hands.

Their melee ensued, a dynamic ballet of fists and golden hands. Olivia's punches and strikes were met with a barrage of golden defenses and retaliatory attacks from Monk Mahavira. The battle shifted in a fluid dance, with positions and angles constantly changing. As Monk Mahavira harnessed more of his myriad hands in the fray, Olivia's agility surged to match the heightened intensity of their duel.