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Bang bang bang!!
Sun Wukong's ears and nose overflowed with black blood.
And that was just the beginning.
Moments later, the 836 million pores across his body began to ooze blood. His size shrank rapidly. Even the golden hoop staff in his hand—the Sea-Ding God Needle—began to fracture with visible cracks.
Puff!
Puff puff!!
With a single grab, Sun Wukong's true identity as the magic ape was utterly destroyed.
Bang!
Puxian Bodhisattva withdrew his hand. Sun Wukong plummeted from the air, reverting into a small golden monkey. He landed with a thud, curled up, and trembled continuously. Fresh blood spilled from his body, soaking the earth and transforming him into a pool of gore. His pupils dilated, his lips faded pale, and his vitality drained with every second.
"This monkey..."
Across the Three Realms, countless powerful beings fixed their eyes on Lingshan and sighed.
The grand revival of Tianding Buddhism was underway. For a monkey to resist it alone—it was like a mayfly trying to shake a tree.
"Master Sun, come be baptized day and night by the Buddhist scriptures on my Lingshan Mountain." Puxian Bodhisattva smiled, forming a Buddhist seal with his right hand and aiming to suppress Sun Wukong.
"It's so cold..." Sun Wukong curled tightly, clutching his golden cudgel, trembling in a pool of his own blood.
Just as the Buddha Seal was about to descend—
Boom!!!
A massive hand, radiant with immortal light and divine brilliance, exuding chaotic energy, suddenly tore through the heavens.
This hand glowed crystalline, pure white like jade, with intricate lines across the palm—each one a manifestation of the Dao's primal laws. Within the palm boiled an ocean of chaotic energy, roiling like a sea of ancient creation.
In a flash, the palm crossed countless great worlds, emerging from the distant unknown.
The entire world of Journey to the West quaked!
In that instant, the palm seized Sun Wukong.
Bang bang bang!!
Puxian Bodhisattva's descending palm seal struck the giant chaotic hand—but with a mere tremor, the giant hand shattered the seal, dispersing it into countless golden lights that dissolved into heaven and earth.
The shockwave knocked Puxian Bodhisattva back three steps. He abruptly looked up, eyes filled with rage.
"Who dares to hinder Buddhism's will?"
Murderous intent surged in his gaze. Puxian Bodhisattva was enraged.
Bang!!
That giant hand swiftly snatched up the nearly lifeless Sun Wukong and vanished in a blink, pulling him away from Lingshan.
And just as the hand disappeared with Sun Wukong in its grasp—
A tattered figure appeared on the mountain. It was a withered Buddha, clothed in worn robes and a dilapidated Kasaya.
"Past Buddha."
Puxian Bodhisattva and the Eighteen Arhats immediately bowed with utmost reverence.
This ancient, gaunt figure was none other than one of the three Buddhas of Buddhism—the Past Buddha, the Ancient Buddha Burning Lamp. One of the few remaining quasi-sages in the Journey to the West since the Six Sages withdrew from the realms beyond Heaven.
The Ancient Buddha did not speak to the Bodhisattvas or Arhats. Instead, he stared solemnly at the direction from which the massive hand had come.
At the edge of the ten thousand worlds, Burning Lamp perceived a towering, boundless figure—like the embodiment of the Dao itself. Vast, transcendent, unfathomable.
When the Ancient Buddha tried to divine its identity, he saw only chaos. His body shuddered, a flush spreading across his face.
Instantly, the entire world of Journey to the West trembled again.
"Who was that?"
"Who took Sun Wukong from Lingshan?"
"To save him from right under the nose of Buddhism—who could still do that now?"
"Was it King Peacock Ming? Or the Saint Lu Yaquan? Did a Saint intervene and cloud the heavens?"
"The Ancient Buddha Burning Lamp arrived in person, yet couldn't even stop the hand?"
Awe and confusion spread across the realms. After the era of the Conferred Gods, the Six Sages departed from Heaven, and Daozu Hongjun reshaped the elements, forging a new world. Now, quasi-sages reigned supreme in Journey to the West, and even those could be counted on one hand.
Who could rescue Sun Wukong before Lingshan's very gates, while the Buddha's teachings flourished?
Speculation erupted across the worlds.
Meanwhile, at the Daleiyin Temple of Lingshan—
Seated on the twelfth-rank golden lotus, the Tathagata Buddha opened his eyes.
His gaze pierced through countless realms in a single moment, tracking the retreating hand.
But in the next instant, his vision was abruptly blocked by a natural barrier.
He could only watch helplessly as Sun Wukong disappeared into the void.
"Who is it..."
Tathagata's eyes narrowed, lost in thought.
In the Universal World—
Bang.
Shen Lian retracted his hand. A faint white mark was now visible on its back.
The pupils of six surrounding Quasi Emperors shrank violently.
For countless years, since Shen Lian's ascension to Emperor, he had never once been injured.
Yet now, someone had actually left a mark on him.
Even if it was just a shallow trace—it was unthinkable.
"Your Majesty Liandi..." Yuan Ye, Xuanba, Diji, and the other Quasi Emperors prepared to speak.
"It's nothing."
Shen Lian waved his hand.
The white mark vanished in an instant—fully healed.
Just moments ago, Shen Lian had wielded the power of a Nine-Star pinnacle powerhouse and crossed the boundary to seize Sun Wukong before Puxian Bodhisattva could suppress him.
Recalling that moment, a hint of solemnity passed through Shen Lian's eyes.
Puxian Bodhisattva had been manageable, likely on par with the Great Emperor Shen Lian had slain during his ascension. But the Ancient Buddha Burning Lamp—he exuded an overwhelming pressure.
"So this is the power of Journey to the West..."
Shen Lian narrowed his gaze.
He began to understand why Journey to the West, Conferred Gods, and even the Prehistoric World he first encountered had such immense reputations.
These realms might even surpass the Nine-Star heavens.
Shaking his head, Shen Lian let go of the thought and turned to the bloodied and unconscious Sun Wukong on the ground.
Part of Shen Lian's motivation had been righteous indignation at the cruelty of the gods and Buddhas—but part of it was personal. Before crossing worlds, he had always harbored a deep admiration for Sun Wukong.
"Xuanba, Yuan Ye."
Shen Lian spoke.
"The minister is here."
Xuanba and Yuan Ye stepped forward.
"Take him to the Chaos God Pool for healing," Shen Lian commanded.
"Yes, the old slave obeys."
With that, Xuanba and Yuan Ye picked up the gravely wounded Sun Wukong and flew toward the Chaos God Pool on the other side of Daluo Mountain.
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