Chapter 459

An existence more terrifying than the Original Mistake!

The light scattered completely.

In the void of the Wanshen Fenchang, a pungent burnt smell still lingered.

That grotesque monster, fused with the Heavenly Dao Law and the Power of Negation, left not even a scrap.

Countless shards of light fell like snowflakes, turning into transparent bubbles upon hitting the void, popping with a soft 'pah'.

Sun Wukong walked out from that rain of light shards.

The Tiěbàng rested on his shoulder, his battle armor shattered more than half, revealing scorched flesh beneath.

The left side of his face was covered in dried blood scabs, several tufts of hair burnt, looking utterly disheveled.

But his steps were steady.

So steady it was like strolling through his own Mount Huaguo.

The Monkey Heart beat in his chest, thump after thump, steady and strong.

He walked to the spot where the monster finally dissipated, lowered his head, and glanced at the ground beneath his feet.

There was nothing.

Clean and spotless.

Sun Wukong twisted his mouth and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the ground.

"Pah."

"He died in a truly ugly manner."

He casually wiped his face with the back of his hand, rubbing away the grime and blood clots around his eyes.

His crimson-gold pupils emerged, shining like two balls of fire.

Those eyes swept across the empty battlefield, finally landing on the figure leaning against a broken wall in the distance.

Bodhi Patriarch.

The old man still looked half-dead, his white hair disheveled, his Daoist robe torn like a beggar's.

But he was smiling.

The corner of his mouth was just slightly upturned—not large, but genuinely present on his face.

He raised a finger toward Sun Wukong and tapped it up and down.

The meaning of that gesture was clear.

Well done.

Sun Wukong grinned, showing a row of white teeth, and sprinted toward his master with legs spread.

He ran like a child.

In three strides he closed the distance to Bodhi, planted his Tiěbàng in the ground, and patted his own chest.

"Master, did you see that?"

"One strike! Just one strike!"

"That broken thing didn't even get to let out a grunt!"

Bodhi glanced at him, his murky old eyes holding a smile.

"Don't pat anymore, or your bones will break."

Sun Wukong hehehed, moving closer to his master.

"From now on, when there's business, you old man just sit and drink tea; leave the killing to the disciple."

"I'll make sure it's handled properly for you."

Bodhi shook his head, not taking up that topic.

His gaze swept past Sun Wukong's shoulder toward the farther void.

Something was happening there.

Something that made this old man, who had survived myriad calamities, faintly moved.

In the depths of the void, on the spots where stars had been erased by the Original Mistake, faint points of light began to appear.

One.

Two.

Ten.

One hundred.

One thousand.

It was as if someone had relit the extinguished candles on a pitch-black curtain.

The light was weak, so weak it seemed it could go out at any moment.

But they were there.

They were genuinely shining.

Sun Wukong also noticed, turning his body to stare at that starry expanse.

"This is..."

"Vitality is returning."

Bodhi's voice was soft: "The 'Conclusion' concept of that thing has been shattered by you; everything it negated is now regaining the right to exist."

Sun Wukong's eyes grew brighter and brighter.

The worlds that were slaughtered, the civilizations that were erased, the lives that were forcibly extinguished—

—they still have a chance.

"I've won!"

He gripped the iron rod, his voice filled with uncontainable joy and relief.

Damn, we won.

Bodhi did not correct his profanity, merely watching the patch of sky gradually light up, slowly nodding.

Hmm.

Won.

The master and disciple just stood there, watching the faint yet stubborn light in the distance.

Silence lasted three breaths.

Only three breaths.

Then that tranquility was torn apart.

Boom!

Not a sound coming from any direction.

The entire void let out a wail at the same moment.

Sun Wukong's monkey heart shuddered violently, all his pores bursting open at the same moment.

His body reacted faster than his consciousness, the iron rod held horizontally before him, blocking his master.

Above his head.

The preexisting golden fissure was expanding at an unstoppable speed.

Three times.

Ten times.

A hundred times.

The fissure tore the sky open, splitting the void above Wanshen Fenchang in half.

What poured from the fissure was not darkness.

It was purple qi.

Purple qi filled the heavens and earth, thick as solidified liquid, pouring down from the fissure.

Where the purple qi swept, all remaining debris, ruins, and even the void's texture became orderly.

Not repair.

It was being formatted.

It was forcibly written into a unified rule.

Sun Wukong's face fell.

That pressure was more than ten times heavier than the monster's earlier peak.

No, this is not even the same order of magnitude.

The Original Mistake was chaos, loss of control, a pot of porridge boiled to mush.

But this pressure is order.

It is rules.

It is Heaven.

"Hongjun."

Sun Wukong squeezed these two words from between his teeth.

In the center of the surging purple qi, a figure gradually coalesced.

His gray-white Dao robe changed into a pure gold Dharma robe, each thread a complete Heavenly Dao Law.

His hair strands were distinct, each floating as if held by an invisible hand.

Those golden vertical pupils looked down from above, containing no emotion.

Not cold-hearted.

It fundamentally did not regard the two below as beings requiring emotion to face.

"I have waited long enough."

Hongjun spoke, his voice not loud, yet it overwhelmed all other vibrations in the space.

Screech!

Golden chains shot out from all directions.

Not just a few.

Several thousand.

Tens of thousands.

Each chain was engraved with dense Heavenly Dao runes, emitting a suffocating power of rules.

The chains wove into a net, sealing this area of Wanshen Fenchang like an iron barrel.

Up.

Down.

Left.

Right.

Front.

Back.

Fully sealed.

Not even a slit remained.

Sun Wukong's pupils contracted, his grip on the iron rod whitening his fingers.

He tentatively released a strand of Chaos Dao Rhythm to touch the nearest chain.

The moment the Dao Rhythm touched, it was instantly shattered.

Like a drop of ink falling into bleach.

It vanished silently and without a trace.

"Damn."

Sun Wukong muttered a curse.

Bodhi's voice came from behind, hoarse but calm.

"He's really here."

"Not a clone, not a projection."

"It's his true body."

Sun Wukong turned his head and glanced at his master.

Bodhi's complexion was worse than before, his lips bluish, but his old, cloudy eyes held no fear.

There was only a clear realization: "As expected."

Sun Wukong turned back, craning his neck to look up at the lofty figure.

Hongjun lowered his head and looked down at them.

In those golden vertical pupils, a hint of emotion finally surfaced.

Contempt.

Pure, undisguised contempt.

"The thing you painstakingly eliminated was merely a discarded pawn I casually threw away three ages ago."

"And yet you fought so miserably."

He raised his right hand, fingers spread.

The entire sealed space trembled with his gesture.

"In the name of the Heavenly Dao."

"All variables."

"Today."

"Exterminate all."

The moment his words fell, the tens of thousands of golden chains all lit up and simultaneously twisted toward the master and disciple.