Chapter 335: Different 'Conclusion

Facing Ji slowly raising the pitch-black long blade, the blade edge seemed able to devour the night of the whole universe.

The withered monk draped in the Tathagata's skin, for the first time, showed an expression on his unchanging face of myriad ages.

Not Fear Heart Demon, not anger.

But a disgust that seeped from the bones.

Ji's Dao, in his eyes, was the filthy mud that sullied the perfect art of 'Conclusion', the vulgar profanity that interrupted the universe's ultimate secret.

That was a physiological rejection arising from fundamental opposition of ideas.

"Returning to 'Nothing' is the ultimate compassion and peace."

The withered monk's black-hole-like eyes finally shifted completely away from Sun Wukong.

He looked at Ji, his hoarse voice carrying an undeniable allure,

He actually wanted to spread his set of death's 'gospel' to this being whose Dao is 'Conclusion'.

Ji's response was only one action.

Slash.

No earth-shaking blade aura, no force that could rend the Milky Way.

Only a pitch-black blade light, pure to the extreme.

The blade light was like a chunk of absolute 'Nothing' forcibly carved out of the concept of 'Existence'.

Where it passed, time froze, space vanished.

Even the threads of laws that should have existed eternally were erased beneath this blade, reduced to an 'Empty' that left nothing.

However, that blade, capable of conceptually ending any existence,

yet, like Sun Wukong's previous attack, passed unhindered through the withered monk's body.

That monk seemed truly just an illusory phantom that does not exist in this world.

Pfft—

The blade light slashed upon the ruined ground of the Zi Xiao Gong's wreckage, leaving no trace.

The portion of land that was cut, together with the space it occupied, vanished.

Ji stood in place, slowly sheathing his blade.

On his face, colder than ten-thousand-year-old profound ice, his brows, which had never twitched, furrowed slightly for the first time.

Although the degree was so small as to be hardly perceptible.

"Heh."

In the distance, Sun Wukong, holding his staff and looking on as if watching a show, curled his lips.

His heart blossomed with joy.

"Does it feel bad to slash at air?"

"This old bald donkey is nothing but a projection right now!"

"You can see it but can't touch it, can't break it, can't retort when scolded—it's specially using Principle to disgust you!"

"Feeling stifled or not? Uncomfortable or not?"

Just thinking how that move had disgusted him to the point of nearly breaking his Dao Heart, and seeing Ji now suffer a setback, Sun Wukong's heart instantly felt much more balanced.

Let you, kid, who just acted so aloof before Old Sun, now taste the bitter fruit, huh.

Just as Sun Wukong gloated over the misfortune, the withered monk moved.

He looked at Ji, whose brows were slightly furrowed, and slowly shook his head.

That gaze was like a wise elder teaching an uncivilized, stubborn child.

"The 'Conclusion' on the physical level is the basest violence, meaningless."

His voice was hoarse and dry, yet carried an odd persuasiveness.

"You need to understand."

"True 'Conclusion' is not you annihilating all things."

"But to make all things, from deep within their hearts, yearn to be concluded."

"To let them voluntarily extinguish the flame of their existence."

"That is the perfect closed loop."

"That is true Great Liberation, Great Peace."

Ji said nothing more.

For an existence that finds even the concepts of 'life' and 'death' noisy, arguing with this monster draped in the Tathagata's skin is itself an unbearable noise.

He slowly sheathed the long blade named 'Annihilation' back into the scabbard behind him.

Seeing this, a hint of satisfaction 'the child is teachable' seemed to appear in the withered monk's black-hole-like eyes.

But the next second.

Hum—!

A force more terrifying and overbearing than that previous blade erupted explosively from Ji's body.

The space around him began to be frenziedly devoured.

Centered on Ji, an absolute Deathly Silence, absolute cold 'Annihilation Domain', in an Irrational manner, barbarically eroded the entire real universe.

Where the domain passed, everything lost its 'meaning'.

Light no longer represented brightness, darkness no longer represented darkness.

A floating fragment of stellar rock, with the concept of 'Existence' forcibly erased, thus it vanished into thin air.

A residual order rune of Hongjun drifting from somewhere, its concept of 'Operation' forcibly halted,

thus it solidified in the void, becoming an eternal still picture.

This is the Dao of Silence.

Forceful, overbearing.

He drags everything that moves and changes, which he considers "noisy," into absolute stillness.

At the same time, that withered monk also took action.

He remained seated cross-legged there, yet a "death" aura, completely opposite to silence, spread over his body.

It is not cold, but a kind of decay with an strange warmth and cloying sweetness.

It is not compulsion, but a whisper laden with endless temptation.

It seems as if a voice gently sings in the deepest part of your Línghún.

"You're tired, right?"

"Fighting is painful, right?"

"Living is hard, right?"

"Give up……"

"Go to sleep……"

"Return to that eternal, warm, tranquil void……"

"There is no pain, no worries, nothing at all……"

Two utterly different "death" concepts, two Great Dao realms representing different forms of "end," violently collide on this ruined stage of the Zi Xiao Gong.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, not even a whisper of sound.

Only two intangible, substanceless "deaths," madly devouring each other, negating each other.

Sun Wukong could see it clearly from afar.

The Silence's "Realm of End" turned into a pure black millstone, wanting to brutally crush and grind everything into Deathly Silence.

While the Tathagata's "Gospel Realm" turned into a gray swamp, pervasive everywhere,

exuding a sweet deadly poison, seeking to soften and corrode everything, luring them to willingly sink.

Sun Wukong looked a bit dumbfounded.

One is the authoritarian faction of "death," the other is the comfort-seeking faction of "death."

Now, two top-tier "death" salesmen, because their business philosophies and sales methods clash,

they actually started fighting right in front of him, their biggest "customer."

What the hell is this?

Sun Wukong's mouth almost split to his ears from grinning, and he even felt an urge to pull out two bottles of beer and a plate of peanuts,

hand each of them a bottle, then drag over a little stool to sit beside them and cheer them on.

"Hit!"

"Right! Just hit like that!"

"Hit them to death!"

"Nobody hold back!"

Sun Wukong shouted excitedly in his heart, this dog-eat-dog spectacle is truly thrilling.

However, just as he was enjoying it most, the Smile on his face suddenly froze.

He slowly lowered his head, looking at his right arm, unscathed.

There, a speck the size of a fingernail, like rust-colored gray, was actually flickering with an eerie light.

A pure, mixed energy carrying the concepts of "end" and Deathly Silence was seeping out from the center of the battle between Silence and the Tathagata.

Then, that damned "rust" on his arm, like a whale sucking water, greedily absorbed it.

As the energy flowed in, that speck originally only covering his skin surface began to slowly seep into his flesh, bones, and Dao body.

A bone-chilling cold instantly shot from Sun Wukong's soles straight to his crown.

The schadenfreude and amusement on his face vanished at once, replaced by an icy chill as if falling into an ice cellar.

He finally understood.

He was wrong.

This is not dog-eat-dog.

He himself was not an aloof bystander.

These two bastards are clearly teaming up…… to feed that most terrifying parasite in his body!