Chapter 455: Lost Foothold!

The Original Mistake's true form is exposed!

Sun Wukong didn't rush to chase that golden light.

He lowered his head and glanced at his feet.

Those gray dust particles continued to drift outward, and the residual aura of the Original Mistake visibly thinned.

The void was recovering.

That nauseating feeling of decay vanished, replaced by a long-lost freshness.

The order of space was self-repairing, the torn dimensional barrier closing layer by layer.

Sun Wukong shouldered his iron staff and looked around.

It was clean.

Aside from that fleeting golden flash and that hair-thin crack, this void had been completely cleared.

Only then did he let out a breath.

He slung the staff onto his shoulder and turned to run.

He ran like the wind, like a frolicking wild monkey.

In three strides he reached Bodhi, grinning wide and showing a mouth full of white teeth.

That smile held no trace of the Great Sage's dignity; it was purely the grin of a brat who'd done something big and was waiting for praise.

"Master!"

"Done!"

"Did you see? Old Sun, one strike! One strike and I smashed that broken thing!"

He said this while gesturing the staff-swinging motion, so pleased he almost wanted to do a somersault.

Bodhi leaned against the broken wall, watching the lively monkey before him.

There was a smile in his cloudy old eyes.

But he didn't utter a single kind word.

He extended his withered palm and lightly patted Sun Wukong on the back of the head.

"Tone it down."

Sun Wukong laughed and shrank his neck.

"Master, we truly won! That rotten lump left not a scrap!"

Bodhi shook his head.

"Won?"

His voice was a little hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken so much in a long time.

"I, the old man, ask you: what was that golden light just now?"

Sun Wukong's smile faded halfway.

"I know, I saw it."

"Then why are you still smiling?"

Bodhi's finger tapped his forehead.

"Reckless monkey, you're getting happy too early."

He hadn't finished saying that.

Deep in the void, at a point almost at the edge of vision, it suddenly flashed.

Golden.

It wasn't Sun Wukong's reddish gold, but a colder, more orderly pure gold that felt oppressive.

That direction was exactly where that escaping golden light had vanished.

Sun Wukong's smile disappeared completely.

He gripped his iron staff tightly, turned around, and faced that void.

The golden light did not dissipate.

Instead, it expanded.

Like an invisible blade, it was slowly and firmly cutting through space itself.

A crack appeared.

Straight, orderly, with edges smooth as if measured by a ruler.

The crack grew wider and longer.

Then an eye emerged from behind the crack.

Enormous.

It occupied the entire width of the crack.

That eye was gold, with a vertical pupil, and its iris flowed with regular light patterns like turning gears.

It felt no anger.

No killing intent.

Only indifference.

A lofty, ant‑scrutinizing indifference.

Sun Wukong's hairs stood on end.

Not because of fear.

But because it was familiar.

This aura was all too familiar to him.

He loathed the 'Negation' of the Original Mistake even more, and the 'Emptiness' of the Original Mistake made him even more nauseous.

Because the name of this aura is 'Order'.

It is called the 'Heavenly Dao'.

It is called 'Rules'.

The rift is still expanding.

That eye vanished, and in its place appeared a figure.

The figure stepped out from the rift.

One step.

Just one step.

The whole expanse of void, which had barely regained peace, trembled again.

But this trembling is different from that caused by the Original Mistake.

The Original Mistake is chaotic, rotting, and nauseating.

While this trembling is orderly.

All spatial vibration frequencies are completely uniform, as if some force had forcibly unified their rhythm.

Heavenly Dao oppresses.

It is purer than the Original Mistake.

More domineering.

And also more suffocating.

The figure stood firm.

Gray-white Daoist robes, an ancient hair bun, an ageless face, kind eyebrows and benevolent eyes.

His whole body emanated a soft golden light.

Like a deity who saves all beings.

But Sun Wukong knew what it was.

It was silk draped over a blade's edge.

"Hongjun."

Sun Wukong squeezed out two words from between his teeth.

Behind him, Bodhi slowly straightened his body.

Those cloudy old eyes turned sharp, fixed on that figure.

Hongjun gave a slight nod, as if greeting.

"Long time no see."

His voice was extremely gentle, carrying the tolerance of an elder toward a junior.

"Senior Brother Bodhi, how have you been?"

Bodhi did not respond.

Hongjun didn't mind either, turning his gaze to Sun Wukong.

"You've done well."

He said this with approval.

"You've eliminated a hidden danger for the Heavenly Dao."

Sun Wukong's fur stood on end all over his body.

Not because praise felt good.

But because he felt nauseated.

"For you?"

Sun Wukong smiled, a cold smile.

"I fought from start to finish, risking life and limb to smash that thing, and now you jump out saying you'll do the work for me?"

Hongjun's smile didn't change in the slightest.

"The Original Mistake is a scourge of the universe; by eliminating it, you have earned boundless merit."

He raised his right hand and drew a sigil in the void.

It was golden.

So orderly it made one's hair stand on end.

As soon as the sigil formed, the void beneath Sun Wukong's feet began to solidify.

It was not being frozen.

But being 'regularized.'

The Heavenly Dao Law was blanketing this area.

Sun Wukong instantly understood Hongjun's intention.

This old thing wasn't here to fight him.

But to 'wrap things up.'

To take this battlefield, this free territory he and his Master had painstakingly won, and bring it back under the Heavenly Dao's jurisdiction.

To seal it off.

To lock it down.

To steal everything he had fought for with his life.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Sun Wukong's voice changed.

The crimson-gold light on Tiěbàng surged, shooting straight into the void.

Hongjun's hand, drawing the talisman, paused.

He looked at Sun Wukong, his eyes showing the helplessness of watching a child throw a tantrum.

"This place has experienced a great battle; order has collapsed. If not resealed, remnants may remain."

"Bullshit!"

Sun Wukong stepped forward, pointing Tiěbàng at Hongjun's face.

"How long have you been hiding in the dark watching?"

"Where were you when I was fighting tooth and nail with the Original Mistake?"

"Where were you when Yao bought time with her life?"

"Now that the fight's over, you come out to pick peaches?"

With every sentence he spoke, his aura rose a notch.

The crimson-gold Chaos Dao Rhythm rose from his body like flames.

Hongjun withdrew his hand.

The compassionate smile on his face faded somewhat.

"Sun Wukong, don't be rude."

"I am doing this for the peace of the Three Realms."

"Do you think I believe it?"

Sun Wukong snorted coldly, slamming Tiěbàng onto the ground.

Boom.

The void trembled.

A crack appeared in the Heavenly Dao talisman Hongjun had just drawn.

The force of this strike finally changed Hongjun's expression.

His golden eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Sun Wukong.

As if reassessing something.

Feeling that scrutinizing gaze, Sun Wukong's mouth curled up instead.

"What's the matter?"

"Want to fight?"

He shouldered Tiěbàng and stood before Bodhi.

His back ramrod straight.

Behind him, Bodhi's voice sounded, low and calm.

"Hongjun."

"You showing up now, I'm not the least bit surprised."

Hongjun looked at Bodhi, putting a smile back on his face.

"Senior Brother, you overpraise me; I'm just here to clean up."

Bodhi shook his head.

"You never clean up."

"You only know how to reap."

As soon as those words left his mouth, the smile on Hongjun's face finally couldn't be held.

He withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at Bodhi.

Instead, he gazed at the expanse of void beneath his feet, half-covered by his law.

His right hand rose again.

A second talisman began to take shape.

Larger and more complex than the first, with richer mana.

The pressure of the Heavenly Dao bore down like a tangible weight.

Sun Wukong's knees bent slightly.

Just a slight bend.

With the next breath, he straightened up.

The crimson-gold light on Tiěbàng transformed into the phantom of a roaring golden beast, clashing head-on with the Heavenly Dao's pressure.

"Hongjun."

Sun Wukong spoke.

His voice was terrifyingly calm.

"If you want to act high and mighty in front of my master,"

"First ask if this staff in my hand agrees."

Hongjun halted his motion.

His vertical pupils locked onto Sun Wukong, as if looking at an unexpected variable.

Then he laughed.

That smile held no mercy, no gentleness.

Only a pure arrogance from one in a high position.

"Interesting."

His voice shifted, no longer bearing that kindly old man demeanor.

"You really think killing a mere bug earns you the right to speak with this humble Daoist?"