Chapter 461: Danger Not Yet Eliminated!

The shameless interference of the Three Realms' bigwig!

Hongjun moved.

No extra movement; he just raised his hand and pressed down.

A law grindstone condensed from purple qi.

Upper and lower pieces, entirely gold‑purple, their surfaces etched with dense heavenly dao runes.

The grindstone is a thousand zhang in diameter; when it slowly turns it emits a hum that would tear the soul.

It didn't smash down.

It is a 'fall' downward.

It falls like an autumn leaf, light and drifting, but wherever it passes the void is ground to powder.

The residual light of stars, scattered energy fragments, even the very texture of space—all are ground and swallowed by the two grindstones.

This thing can grind a star system.

Sun Wukong raised his head to watch that shadow descend, his teeth grinding with a creaking sound.

He knew what Hongjun was thinking.

This old thing felt that, having just finished the Original Mistake, he was already at the end of his tether.

He felt that a casual move could crush him.

"You damn well think beautiful."

Sun Wukong thrust the iron rod into the ground and raised his hands to heaven.

His ten fingers spread, meeting the grindstone capable of obliterating everything.

Boom!

When the grindstone landed in his palm, the entire Wanshen Fenchang collapsed a layer.

Sun Wukong's feet sank three chi into the void ground, cracks like a spiderweb exploding beneath his feet.

A vein on his arms bulged, thick as a pinky, wriggling under the skin.

His bones rang.

His muscles tore.

The grindstone's rotational force wanted to twist his hands into mincemeat, while the weight of the heavenly dao law sought to press him into a sheet of paper.

But he held firm.

His ten fingers dug into the rune grooves on the grindstone's surface, forcibly holding the rotating death grindstone above his head.

Hey!

He grinned and laughed aloud.

"Just this much weight?"

Hongjun's golden vertical pupils narrowed slightly.

"Showing off."

He did not add force.

Because he didn't need to add force.

At the instant Sun Wukong fully bore the grindstone, a Buddha's chant came from the left.

"Amitabha."

The Tathagata's voice was so compassionate it made one nauseous.

He put his palms together, and unbeknownst when, a purple‑gold bowl appeared in his hands.

The bowl flipped, flying toward Sun Wukong's head.

It wasn't big—just fist‑sized.

Wherever it passed, all magical fluctuations in space were extinguished.

Like a black hole.

A black hole that devours magical power.

Sun Wukong's pupils contracted.

He felt his internal chaos dao rhythm begin to destabilize as the bowl approached, as if something were sucking it out.

"Bald donkey!"

He wanted to dodge, but his hands were pinned by the grindstone; he couldn't lift them.

The purple‑gold bowl silently settled three cun above his heavenly crown.

A terrifying sealing force poured into his meridians at once.

His surging chaos dao rhythm was forcibly suppressed by thirty percent.

As his strength waned, the grindstone's weight doubled.

Sun Wukong's knee bent an inch.

At that moment.

Then came the right side.

The demon‑revealing mirror.

The Jade Emperor uttered no sound, merely giving a glance to the Heavenly King Pagoda‑Bearer beside him.

Li Jing understood, and his pagoda shone.

The demon‑revealing mirror flew from the pagoda's top; a beam of white light brighter than the sun shot straight at Sun Wukong's eyes.

Sun Wukong's fiery golden eyes were pierced by that light, causing blood to flow.

He could see nothing.

In front of him was an endless white haze.

The millstone was crushing overhead.

The cauldron's sealing force pressed on him.

The intense light ruined his eyes.

The three sides struck simultaneously.

Sun Wukong's second leg also bent.

Half‑kneeling.

Great Sage Equal to Heaven knelt on one knee, his arms trembling as they supported the law mill.

Fresh blood gushed simultaneously from his mouth corner, nostrils, and eye sockets.

It was not the crimson‑gold Dao blood.

It was bright red.

He suffered internal injuries.

From afar.

Bodhi Patriarch leaned against a broken wall.

The old man's body was extremely frail, even standing upright took effort.

But his eyes were clear.

Those cloudy old eyes swept over the Tathagata seated high on the lotus platform, over the Jade Emperor seated on the phoenix carriage, and finally rested on Hongjun, who overlooked everything from the highest point.

His lips moved slightly.

He silently uttered four words.

"A bunch of beasts."

In the battlefield's center, Sun Wukong's knee sank another half‑inch into the ground.

The millstone's rotation accelerated, trying to grind him in.

The sealing force continuously drained his Chaos Dao Rhythm.

He could see nothing.

But his Monkey Heart still beat.

Bang.

One strike was fiercer than the last.

Each successive strike grew more violent.

That Monkey Heart hammered against his ribs in his chest like a mad beast.

Like a beast trapped in a cage roaring.

"I..."

Sun Wukong's voice squeezed out of the blood foam, garbled.

"Not... dead yet!"

The Monkey Heart struck for the seventh time.

Every pore on his body burst open, crimson‑gold light spewing from each.

It was the backlash after the Chaos Dao Rhythm was pressed to its limit.

No, it wasn't a backlash.

It was an eruption.

"Rise!"

Sun Wukong roared, his arms suddenly thrust straight.

He forcefully lifted the law mill that could crush a Star System.

Flipping it over.

Facing upward.

The millstone left his palm, rolling through the void and striking the golden sealing barrier under Hongjun's cloth, exploding into Debris across the sky.

But the price was steep.

Puff.

A mouthful of golden blood spewed from Sun Wukong's mouth, splattering the ground.

His arms drooped, the blue veins still pulsing, but most of his strength had drained.

The purple‑gold cauldron remained clamped above his head, and the demon‑revealing mirror's light still pierced his eyes.

He suffered internal injuries.

And the three factions saw his weakness.

"Hahaha!"

The first to laugh aloud were the Heavenly Soldiers beside the Jade Emperor.

Then came the Arhats behind the Tathagata.

The laughter spread like an infectious disease.

One hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers, three thousand Arhats, five hundred Bodhisattvas.

The laughter converged into a harsh, mocking din.

The Tathagata wore a compassionate smile and rose slowly.

"Wukong, Heaven's will is hard to defy."

The Jade Emperor waved his hand.

Li Jing understood, and the Linglong Pagoda was raised high.

Ten thousand Heavenly Soldiers began to close their formation, pressing toward Sun Wukong's direction.

They were about to swarm forward.

While he was gravely injured, while he was exhausted, while he could barely stand.

Kill him utterly.

Sun Wukong propped his body with his staff, barely avoiding falling.

Crimson‑gold blood trickled from the corner of his mouth to his chin, dropping drop by drop into the void beneath his feet.

He lifted his head.

He could not see clearly.

The light of the Demon‑Seeing Mirror totally destroyed his sight.

But he could still hear.

He could hear those footsteps drawing nearer.

He could hear those laughter growing more wanton.

He could hear the Tathagata's disgusting Buddhist chant growing louder.

He gripped the Tiěbàng tightly, wanting to swing it again.

But his hand was shaking.

Just then.

An extremely faint sound came from behind him.

It was the sound of porcelain striking stone.

That was the sound of a teacup being set down.

Bodhi Patriarch placed the white porcelain cup he was holding onto the ground.

Then he braced himself against the wall and gradually straightened his body.

His emaciated spine was like a fully drawn bow, slowly tensing, slowly straightening.

On that tattered Daoist robe there was not a trace of light.

In that frail body, on the verge of shattering at any moment, there was no fluctuation of magical power.

When Bodhi Patriarch had fully straightened himself.

All laughter ceased.

All footsteps stopped.

The ten thousand Heavenly Soldiers stopped.

The three thousand Arhats stopped.

The Tathagata's Buddhist chant stuck in his throat.

The Jade Emperor's hand froze in mid‑air.

Even in Hongjun's golden vertical pupils, a tiny tremor appeared for the first time.

Bodhi released no aura.

He merely stood there.

Like a mountain.

A mountain that even the Heavenly Dao must go around.

The old man's gaze swept over the crowd's faces and finally came to rest on Hongjun at the highest point.

He spoke.

His voice was hoarse, his breath weak, light as a breeze.

But wherever that breeze blew, the Zi Xiao divine thunder dissipated on its own, and the golden chains broke of their own accord.

"When I was teaching my disciple,"

"When did it become your turn to interrupt?"