Chapter 457: Devouring All Things!

The villain's ultimate form!

Sun Wukong kicked that clump of black mist residue deep into the dimensional bulwark.

He had thought this thing was already completely useless.

A waste that can't even hold a knife—what waves could it stir up?

But he forgot one thing.

Hongjun was still standing there.

That rift torn in the void still gaped open.

The heavenly dao energy spilling from the edge of the rift flowed downward like water.

And that clump of black mist residue that had been kicked just happened to collide with the area where the heavenly dao energy was diffusing.

Sun Wukong's pupils suddenly contracted.

He saw it.

That dying clump of black mist did not continue to drift apart.

It was frantically devouring.

Golden threads of heavenly dao law flowing from the rift's edge were pulled into it, one after another.

Like a starving wild dog lunging into a meat shop.

Stuffing it into its mouth without regard for its life.

"Looking for death?"

Sun Wukong's first reaction was a sneer.

The Original Mistake is 'Negation,' while the Heavenly Dao is 'Order.'

These two things are like water and oil—they simply cannot mix.

Forcibly swallowing it yields only one result.

Self-detonation.

He didn't even rush to act; he just waited to see how this trash would blow itself up.

But the next second, his smile froze.

The black mist did not explode.

It was expanding.

It was not normal expansion.

It was a twisted mutation that defied all known laws.

Golden heavenly dao energy and black Power of Negation tore at, devoured, and entangled each other within that clump of residue.

Two forces that should have annihilated each other achieved a pathological balance at a certain eerie critical point.

They did not cancel each other out.

They coexisted in symbiosis.

"Wrong!"

Sun Wukong's face changed drastically, he snatched up his iron staff and charged.

Too late.

The volume of the black mist residue surged a hundredfold in just three breaths.

A thousandfold.

Ten-thousandfold.

What was originally a fist-sized clump of waste instantly swelled into a mountain.

A mountain of flesh that constantly writhed, constantly deformed, and constantly sprouted extra organs from its body.

That was no longer the Original Mistake.

Nor was it the Heavenly Dao.

It was a malformed hybrid born from the two.

Half its surface flowed with golden runes, the other half roiled with black corrupt fluid.

At the boundary of the two colors, blinding white flashes continually erupted, each accompanied by a wail like an infant's scream.

A huge mouth tore open atop the flesh mountain.

Its mouth was filled with jagged fangs, each a solidified segment of heavenly dao law.

Golden teeth.

Black gums.

The instant its mouth opened, an indescribable suction burst forth from within.

Not wind.

Not gravity.

It was consumption at the level of law.

Sun Wukong felt it.

The newly stabilized chaos dao rhythm within his body trembled.

Those three forces—the crimson-gold variable, the gray order, and the black negation—were all rushing outward from his body.

It was as if something had snagged a thread, pulling it out inch by inch.

"Damn!"

Sun Wukong cursed.

His foot slipped in the void, and his whole body uncontrollably slid toward that huge mouth.

Not just him.

Everything around was converging toward that mouth.

Fragments of the void, lingering threads of law, even the recently repaired dimensional bulwarks, were all being torn into strips and poured in.

This thing is eating.

Eats everything.

Sun Wukong turned his head and glanced at Hongjun.

That old thing stood far away, its gray-white Dao robe unmoving.

The devouring vortex had no effect on him.

He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, head lowered, overlooking this chaos.

A faint arc hung at the corner of his mouth.

Watching the show.

That old dog is watching the show.

Sun Wukong understood everything.

Hongjun did not let the Heavenly Dao energy inside the rift leak out through carelessness.

He did it on purpose.

He fed the Original Mistake a mouthful.

Just like a hunter throwing a piece of meat into a trap.

The purpose is only one.

Let these two variables bite each other.

Let Sun Wukong and this out-of-control monster consume each other.

He will, after all, come out at the end to reap.

"Well schemed, old thing."

Sun Wukong clenched his back teeth.

Yet he did not dare to stop under his feet.

The Tiěbàng turned half a circle in his hand, tip pointing down, and he fiercely thrust it into the void beneath his feet.

Pfft.

The rod sank three chi deep into the void.

Sun Wukong gripped the rod's head with both hands, lowering his center of gravity to the lowest point.

Like a nail nailing himself to the spot.

The devouring pull squeezed in from all directions.

His battle armor trembled.

His Dao robe billowed violently toward the giant mouth.

The Chaos Dao Rhythm within his body continued to leak out.

But he steadied himself.

The Monkey Heart beat heavily and steadily.

Each beat was like a war drum.

Each beat told the vortex: "I, your father, do not move."

The devouring force increased.

The monster's giant mouth opened wider.

A second row of fangs grew out from the black gums.

Third row.

Fourth row.

Like a nauseating flower made of teeth, it bloomed toward Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong's arm began to go numb.

The part of the Tiěbàng embedded in the void showed fine cracks.

It couldn't hold much longer.

He wasn't matching strength with an enemy.

He was arm-wrestling a black hole.

"Master!"

Sun Wukong turned his head and shouted toward Bodhi.

"How do we kill this thing? Smash it from outside?"

Bodhi leaned against the broken wall, his murky old eyes half-open, half-closed.

Gazing at the endlessly swelling monstrosity, at the giant mouth that devours heaven and earth, and again at the disciple dead-stuck in place.

He spoke.

His voice was not loud, yet it steadily pierced the vortex's howl and fell into Sun Wukong's ears.

"Break and then establish."

Three words.

"If something can't be smashed from outside, smash it from inside."

Sun Wukong froze for a moment.

Then he laughed.

He grinned, mouth split open.

It smashed from inside.

Right.

This broken thing opened its mouth to eat him.

Then let it eat.

Eat it in, then talk.

He lowered his head and glanced at the Tiěbàng he was holding.

The crimson-gold light on the rod was still being sucked outward by the vortex.

Look again at the giant mouth drawing ever closer.

Between its fangs flowed a viscous liquid mixed with gold and black.

Utterly nauseating.

"Alright."

Sun Wukong released the Tiěbàng.

He pulled it up, shouldered it.

Then he released all the force under his feet.

The devouring power surged tenfold the moment he let go.

His body seemed clutched by an invisible giant hand, shooting toward that giant mouth.

The speed was such that his Daoist robe was torn into strips.

In the distance.

Hongjun saw this scene.

On that neither warm nor cold face, finally a hint of change appeared.

The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

A cold smile.

Purely a cold smile.

"Stupid monkey."

He lightly commented two words.

In his view, this was the final struggle of an ant forced into desperation.

Courting death.

Standard courting death.

Hongjun turned his gaze away, no longer looking at the crimson-gold stream disappearing into the giant mouth.

In his plan, this monkey is already finished.

Next, he only needs to wait for the out-of-control monster to eat until it bursts, then he'll come out to clean up the remnants.

Perfect.

But what he didn't see was.

At the last instant when Sun Wukong was swallowed into the giant mouth.

That monkey turned his head and glanced at Master.

Bodhi nodded at him.

Very light.

Very faint.

But in those turbid old eyes, there was light.

Inside the monster's belly.

A pitch-black expanse.

Not right, nor entirely black.

Golden fragments of Heavenly Dao Law and black Power of Negation swirled together, like a pot of boiling murky porridge.

Everywhere it exploded, everywhere it reassembled.

Chaos reached its extreme.

Sun Wukong was wrapped right in the center of this nauseating mixture.

His whole body was being torn simultaneously by the two forces.

Heavenly Dao Law wanted to "regularize" him.

Power of Negation wanted to "erase" him.

Painful.

Ten times more painful than when he was in the Bāguà Lú.

But he was laughing.

Laughing wildly.

Laughing wantonly.

He laid the Tiěbàng across his knees, sat cross-legged.

Both hands clenched into fists.

Monkey Heart began to beat faster.

Thud.

Thud.

Getting faster and faster.

Growing more fierce.

With each beat, a mass of scarlet‑gold fire burst forth from his chest.

That was his natal fire.

It was not the Samadhi True Fire.

It was not the Chaos Dao flame.

It was pure, the 'existence' fire belonging solely to Sun Wukong.

As long as the Monkey Heart does not die, the fire will not extinguish.

The flames surged, accumulated, and compressed within his body.

The more it burned, the fiercer it grew.

The more it was compressed, the more violent it became.

The inner walls of the monster began to tremble.

It sensed it.

The damned thing in its stomach was brewing something.

An unprecedented scorching sensation came from deep within its abdomen.

The monster let out a piercing howl.

It wanted to spit Sun Wukong out.

It was too late.

Sun Wukong opened his eyes.

His scarlet‑gold pupils reflected a surging sea of fire.

He gripped the Tiěbàng in his hand and slowly lifted it above his head.

"Listen up, you old things."

His voice echoed inside the monster.

"This strike is called Opening Heaven."

The Monkey Heart erupted with its strongest beat.

All the stored flames ignited at the same moment.

A huge, crimson bulge swelled on the monster's abdomen.

The bulge grew larger and larger.

It grew brighter and brighter.

Outside, Hongjun finally changed his expression.

His vertical pupils suddenly dilated.

Because he saw it.

Inside that misshapen monster's belly, a sun was rising.