Chapter 360: Second Generation Apostle, Immortal Enemy!

Heh heh heh…… we…… meet again……

Countless twisted, painful "Sun Wukong" faces, at the same instant, split their mouths.

That laughter was sharp and piercing, carrying endless malice and mockery, scraping his Divine Soul like a needle, making his stomach churn.

Sun Wukong's blood‑red eyes narrowed.

The monster before him, stitched together from countless god‑demon corpses and the resentment of "himself," was far stronger than the one he had encountered in the Purple Cloud Palace before—by more than ten thousand times.

It was no longer a mere stitched‑together monster.

Its aura, its Dao, every inch of its being perfectly merged with the vast ancient battlefield beneath its feet.

This graveyard is it.

It, is this graveyard.

As long as this burial ground, which interred three thousand demon gods and countless "Sun Wukongs," remains undestroyed, it can at any time draw upon the resentment of all the dead to replenish itself.

It is the bitter fruit nurtured on this land by billions of eons of failure and despair.

Sun Wukong wasted no more words.

All his worry for Yao An's safety, all his longing and heartache for his imprisoned Master, at this moment turned entirely into icy killing intent.

"Noisy!"

A furious shout.

The gray‑white Tiěbàng in his hand emitted a strained hum, its surface etched with intertwining golden light of order and shifting runes.

Sun Wukong's figure vanished from the spot.

The next instant, he appeared above the monster's head.

On that face, identical to his own yet etched with brutality and madness, there was no flicker of emotion—only pure killing intent.

"Die…… for me!"

No flashy divine abilities, no evolution of Dao.

Only the most primal, savage power.

He poured all his emotions into this strike, fiercely smashing it down upon the colossal skull composed of countless wailing "Sun Wukong" faces.

This blow could shatter galaxies and rend spacetime.

Yet, faced with this heaven‑shattering, earth‑rending blow, the stitched monster neither dodged nor evaded.

Upon its countless faces, it simultaneously revealed a smile of utter mockery and derision.

It allowed the blow to land squarely upon its head.

Boom——!!!

A deafening roar beyond description.

The monster's massive, mountain‑sized body, beginning at its skull, was shattered by Sun Wukong's strike into drifting black resentment that filled the sky.

Innumerable fragments of demon gods' limbs disintegrated in the air, and countless wailing "Sun Wukong" faces twisted and dissolved within the dark mist.

Yet Sun Wukong's face showed no trace of joy.

The next second.

The scattered black resentment energy, as if pulled by an invisible force, suddenly stalled.

Immediately after, from every direction of this blood‑stained battlefield, from atop each Chaotic Demon God's corpse,

from each withered bone of "himself," even more abundant and dense black resentment surged forth like rivers rushing to the sea.

They instantly enveloped and filled the dispersed black energy.

In the span of a single breath, that massive, twisted, chaotic‑and‑madness‑filled terrifying monster,

reappeared intact before Sun Wukong.

As if the previous heaven‑shattering, earth‑rending strike had never harmed it in the slightest.

"Useless!"

The monster's countless mouths opened simultaneously, its voice unabashedly brimming with arrogance and triumph.

"In this 'Cemetery of the Losers'!"

"In this dumping ground where all the defeated are buried!"

"I am immortal and indestructible!"

As the words fell, it violently swung forth a massive arm forged from the limbs of several different demon gods.

Upon that arm, some burned with black demonic flame, some were coiled with spatial rifts, some gleamed with the sharpness of Geng metal.

Several utterly distinct Dao remnants were crudely fused, forming a violent force existing solely for destruction.

The arm whipped up a gale that tore heaven and earth, slamming down fiercely upon Sun Wukong's head.

Sun Wukong's pupils contracted; without time to think, he immediately raised his gray‑white Tiěbàng to block.

Clang——!!!

The ringing of metal on metal shook the universe.

An unimaginable surge of mighty force streamed from the staff.

Sun Wukong felt his arms violently shake; his whole body was flung backward uncontrollably.

His feet carved two bottomless grooves into the reddish‑brown earth, retreating thousands of feet before he barely steadied himself.

The tiger's mouth split open, and golden Divine Blood trickled down the staff.

This monster's power was actually stronger than before.

Yet, the true horror was not merely this tyrannical force.

As that force invaded his Divine Soul, it also brought with it countless lingering memories and emotions.

"Give up!"

A desperate voice echoed in his mind.

"We've all failed, what makes you think you'd be the exception?"

Sun Wukong's vision blurred, as if he saw himself, rushing toward that dark gate, his heart crushed by an invisible giant hand.

"This path has been wrong from the start!"

Another voice filled with regret screamed out.

"So-called resistance, so-called Freedom, are just a joke, a scam!"

The scene shifted again, and he saw another version of himself in monastic robes, sitting in meditation before the gate,

The bloody wound on his brow was shocking, yet his face bore a strange hint of release.

"You can't possibly defeat it!"

"It is the 'End,' the final destination of all existence!"

"Our very existence is an Error!"

"Rather than struggle in pain, … it's better to accept this peaceful ending…"

These voices drilled into his Dao Heart, riddled with holes, Negating his path, shattering his will, corroding the meaning of his resistance.

"Get lost!"

Sun Wukong let out a roar, forcibly driving these negative emotions from his mind.

But his breath inevitably showed a hint of disorder.

"Heh heh heh… Do you see it?"

The Stitching Monster laughed triumphantly.

"You're not fighting me; you're fighting countless failed versions of yourself!"

"Every attack you make is an attack on yourself!"

"Every act of resistance will only make you feel more clearly the despair we once experienced!"

Before his words faded, it launched another attack.

This time, it was a dual assault of body and spirit.

Endless resentment turned into a towering flood, surging from all directions toward Sun Wukong.

Within that flood of resentment, countless shadowy figures of his failed selves flickered in and out,

They repeated that doom-laden fate in the most vicious words, over and over.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Sun Wukong swung his Tiěbàng, smashing through wave after wave of resentment.

But each wave of resentment he shattered only summoned a greater one.

Each time he dispelled a phantom of himself, more failure memories flooded into his Divine Soul.

This battle had no end.

He fell into an unsolvable dead cycle.

He kept losing ground.

Gradually, Sun Wukong's body showed its first wound.

A deep claw mark, down to the bone, slashed across his chest, black demonic energy coiling around it, devouring his Vitality.

Another heavy blow caved in his left shoulder, the linked Golden Armor letting out a mournful cry before shattering completely.

He was like a tiny boat in a raging sea, liable to be utterly swallowed by the ocean of failure and despair.

"Enough…"

"Really… enough…"

"Don't hit anymore…"

In his mind, those voices grew clearer, full of temptation.

Sun Wukong's gaze even flickered with a moment of dazed confusion.

"Perhaps… they're right?"

"Perhaps… there really is no hope?"

"No!"

At the instant that thought rose, Sun Wukong gritted his teeth, the sharp pain snapping him awake.

His eyes were once again filled with towering ferocity and arrogance.

"Even if it's wrong!"

He let out a heaven-shaking roar.

"I, Old Sun, will also walk to the end of the road and see for myself!"

He squeezed every last bit of his remaining power, readying for a final strike.

However, the Stitching Monster seemed to have anticipated his move all along.

The mockery on its countless faces grew deeper.

This time, it didn't attack with those severed limbs; instead, it opened its countless mouths.

Whoosh——!!!

A flood of resentment a hundred times denser than before, like a black waterfall piercing heaven and earth, poured down upon the soon-to-be-exhausted Sun Wukong.

To drown him completely, to assimilate him entirely.

To make him part of this cemetery as well.

It's over.

In Sun Wukong's eyes, a hint of helplessness surfaced for the first time.

He could die in battle.

He absolutely cannot, like those failures, become a shackle that torments his Master.

It was also just at that Qiān jūn yī fā moment.

Just as Sun Wukong was about to be completely devoured by that endless resentment and despair.

Buzz—!!!

A sound never before heard, an incredibly intense buzzing suddenly erupted from that grayish-white Tiěbàng in his hand!