Chapter 316: Prelude of the New Era

What kind of pain is this?

Not the tearing of flesh.

Not the scorching of the divine soul.

It is a kind of lament that emanates from existence itself!

Order is pouring into his body!

Through that rod, now cold, deathly silent, and showing an eerie grayish-white, it frenziedly, barbarically pours into his Way of the Equal Heaven!

Two utterly opposite, absolutely opposed Dao are carrying out the most primal, bloody slaughter within his body!

His Dao is variability, freedom, that arrogant flame that burns away all rules!

And Hongjun's Dao is a fixed number, a shackle, that eternal ice that freezes all possibilities!

Ice and fire collide madly within the foundation of his Dao!

Uh ah ah ah——!

Sun Wukong lets out a stifled painful roar, and all the bones in his body emit a 'ge-ge' wail!

His skin sometimes burns with brilliant golden flames, sometimes is covered by icy gray runes.

The two colors, on his body, are like two immortal armies madly fighting for every inch of territory!

His Great Dao is collapsing!

And reassembling!

In the extreme pain, Sun Wukong's consciousness falls into a strange clarity.

He 'sees'.

He sees Master in the study, repeatedly simulating failed universes.

Those universes, some die from internal consumption due to excessive freedom.

Some self-destruct due to being too sharp.

Master wants to create a world that possesses infinite possibilities yet can endure forever, a perfect world.

But he failed.

Countless times of failure.

Hongjun also wants an eternal world.

He chose to erase all possibilities, to forge an absolutely deathly silent prison of order.

He also failed.

Turns out… they were all wrong.

Sun Wukong seems to have somewhat understood.

True freedom is not the absence of rules.

That is called chaos.

True eternity is not unchanging.

That is called death.

The moment this thought arises in his heart,

The war of ice and fire inside him, which almost tore him apart, strangely subsides.

It is not that one devours the other.

But rather… they merge.

The golden flames and the grayish-white ice no longer attack each other.

They begin to intertwine, begin to merge, begin to become something entirely new, something he has never seen before.

It is a kind of chaotic color, filled with infinite tension.

It is like the deepest darkness before dawn, about to be pierced by the sun.

It contains all possibilities!

Boom!

A surge, unprecedented, far surpassing any moment of his, a mighty aura!

It erupts explosively from within Sun Wukong's body!

It sweeps over this star sea of deathly silence that has just experienced the ultimate battle!

He slowly opens his eyes.

Those golden pupils remain arrogant, remain untamed.

But in their deepest part, there is now a trace of depth and introversion never before seen.

Like one who has seen through all ages, yet also like a newborn infant just come into the world.

He lowers his head, glances at the iron rod in his hand.

That Ruyi Golden Hoop Staff has completely turned grayish-white.

On the staff are both his familiar patterns representing variability, unbridled markings.

And also imprinted are Hongjun's cold runes representing a fixed number.

The two patterns intertwine perfectly, forming a completely new, undefinable Principle.

Sun Wukong grins.

He did not lose, Hongjun did not completely lose.

Or rather, they have each become part of the other.

He stands proudly in the void, holding that brand-new iron rod, looking around.

Hongjun's figure has completely vanished.

The "Order Heavenly Net" he had constructed had also collapsed.

The entire Multiverse had fallen into a hitherto unprecedented legal vacuum.

An era had ended.

It was smashed to pieces by his own hands.

Sun Wukong slowly turned his head, gazing at the end of the Star Sea.

There, the "Dream Ark" hovered silently.

Yao, and the tens of thousands of "gray civilizations" he personally "remade," were all there.

He gave a faint smile in that direction.

In that smile, there was no longer the former arrogance and ferocity; only a sense of ease and warmth remained, as if he had shed an ancient burden.

He had won.

He could become the new "Heavenly Dao".

He could use his own path, which fused "Fixed Number" and "Variable," to construct a new universe he deemed "correct".

But he did not.

On what basis?

On what basis should there still be another "Heavenly Dao" looming above?

Even if that "Heavenly Dao" were Old Monkey Sun himself!

He slowly raised the gray-white Tiěbàng in his hand.

Then he infused it with a thought that carried no killing intent, no compulsion.

The next moment.

A voice, gentle yet exceedingly clear, brimming with boundless power, echoed through every corner of the Multiverse.

It echoed in the depths of every living being's heart.

"From now on..."

"Your path, you walk it yourselves."

"Your heaven, you decide it yourselves."

This voice was like a seed falling into the hearts of all living beings.

Those civilizations that had just survived the "Order Purification" storm were filled with confusion about the future.

Those living beings that had just broken free from Hongjun's oppression had gained a "self".

Upon hearing these words, they all froze.

Immediately afterward,

An indescribable, immense joy, like a volcano, erupted from the depths of their Línghún.

No new gods!

No new sovereigns!

Their fate, from this moment on, truly lay in their own hands!

Freedom!

This is true freedom!

Having done all this,

Sun Wukong seemed merely to have done a trivial little thing.

He shouldered the gray-white Tiěbàng and took a step forward.

His figure directly crossed endless time and space.

He appeared before Yao.

Yao looked at him, at his eyes, which had become somewhat different yet utterly familiar.

Looking at his bearing, where all sharpness had been restrained yet revealed a deeper profundity.

A thousand words choked in his throat.

In the end, it merely became two words.

"Wukong..."

Sun Wukong grinned, showing a mouthful of white teeth, reached out, and habitually rubbed her head.

"I'm back."

The Star Sea returned to tranquility.

The old order had already collapsed.

The new order had not yet been established.

This is a chaotic era, yet brimming with infinite possibilities, a completely new age.

All surviving living beings know.

The world is no longer the same.

A grand, sweeping age that engulfed the entire Multiverse.

It has already opened its curtain.

……

However.

In a place no one had noticed.

In the deepest part of the "Source of Ten Thousand Paths," which, as the ultimate Arbitration Ground, had now been utterly shattered into a chaos ruin.

A region enveloped by endless, gentle Creative Force.

That is, the "Bottom Layer Agreement" left behind by the Bodhi Patriarch.

It is like a universe-level firewall.

It firmly seals within it some kind of the most ancient and terrifying "Error".

Hongjun's downfall is not merely the fall of a Heavenly Dao sovereign.

It also represents the complete breaking of the most important pillar that supported the "structural stability" of the old universe.

This structural collapse's impact likewise transmitted here.

It transmitted to this ultimate seal that should not be shaken by any force.

"Crack—"

A sound, weaker and more inaudible than dust settling.

It sounded softly.

Upon the flawless seal light curtain personally laid down by the Bodhi Patriarch.

A line, tens of billions of times finer than a hair, almost imperceptible…

A crack.

It quietly appeared.

A strand, just a strand, pure, indescribable in any words, absolute "malice".

Like the most cunning poisonous snake.

Along that, imperceptible gap.

It seeped out quietly.