Chapter 468: Pinch the Chick!

The Dao Ancestor's dignity shattered on the ground!

Bodhi's body, while ascending, completely merged with the towering, sun‑obscuring Chaotic Demon God's illusory shadow.

It is not standing in front of the illusion.

It is not being enveloped by the illusion.

It has merged into it.

He himself is that demon god.

The demon god lifts a hand, and a galaxy is born in the palm.

When the demon god withdraws the finger, that galaxy vanishes between the finger gaps.

Between creation and extinction, even light cannot keep up with the rhythm.

Hongjun watches this scene, and his whole body recoils backward.

But he is the Lord of the Heavenly Dao.

He has been the Lord of the Heavenly Dao for countless eras.

Even knowing he is no match, the lofty pride in his bones does not allow him to admit defeat.

"Bodhi! Do you think growing larger can frighten an old man like me?"

Hongjun bites his tongue, and a spray of violet‑golden essence blood erupts.

The essence blood enters the void, transforming into countless Heavenly Dao sigils.

Each sigil embodies the most fundamental law of the Heavenly Dao.

Life and death.

Cause and effect.

Reincarnation.

Fate.

He pulls out everything he had kept as his trump card.

"I am the Heavenly Dao! Under the Heavenly Dao, all things are but ants!"

Hongjun roars, activating the sigils; the myriad Heavenly Dao laws coalesce into a violet‑golden dragon that lunges ferociously toward Bodhi.

This strike consumes thirty percent of his Heavenly Dao Primordial Source.

Enough to annihilate an entire universe.

The dragon slams into Bodhi's chest.

Boom—

There is sound.

There is light.

There is a shockwave.

But Bodhi's body does not budge a hair.

Not even a hem flutters.

Hongjun's face collapses.

"No..."

Bodhi lowers his head and looks at the spot on his chest where the dragon struck.

Not a single crease.

"Is this your full strength?"

Bodhi's tone is very calm, as if asking whether today's tea is cold.

Hongjun's lips tremble.

He does not believe.

He does not believe!

"Again!"

Hongjun's eyes turn blood‑red as he begins to wildly burn his Heavenly Dao Primordial Source.

Fifty percent.

Sixty percent.

Seventy percent!

With each percent burned, his visage ages a notch, and the golden vertical pupils dim a notch.

But he can no longer attend to it.

All the burned Primordial Source condenses into a towering violet‑golden greatsword, bearing the momentum to destroy heaven and earth, and it slashes down.

Bodhi stands unmoving.

The sword lands on his shoulder.

It shatters.

The sword is broken.

It is not deflected, not blocked.

It is that the moment the violet‑golden greatsword contacts Bodhi's body, all the Heavenly Dao laws on the blade spontaneously collapse.

The life‑and‑death law meets him and fails.

The cause‑and‑effect law meets him and dissipates.

The reincarnation law meets him and is directly devoured.

The Heavenly Dao has no jurisdiction over him.

Because he existed earlier than the Heavenly Dao.

"It's over."

Sun Wukong, watching from below, understood perfectly, his mouth corner stretching almost to the base of his ears.

"You're finished, old thing; you can't move him."

Hongjun turned a deaf ear and kept burning the Primordial Source.

Eighty percent.

Ninety percent.

He almost burned himself empty.

The final gathered attack had lost any shape; it was a chaotic mass of Heavenly Dao power, carrying all his madness as it slammed forward.

Bodhi didn't even look at that mass of attack.

He was looking at his own fingernails.

The attack struck him like water splashing on stone.

It was gone.

Nothing was left.

"What are you doing here, scratching me?"

Sun Wukong shouted from below.

"Shut up, monkey."

Bodhi glanced at him.

Then the old man's gaze turned back to Hongjun.

In his gray eyes there was no fury, no murderous intent.

Only a hair‑raising calm.

"Finished struggling?"

Hongjun's face was as gray and defeated as a corpse.

Ninety percent of the Heavenly Dao's Primordial Source was burned away; now he was as weak as a salted fish flung onto the shore.

But he still wanted to run.

He turned to tear the void and flee.

Bodhi moved.

There was no sign.

A hand reached out from the Chaos Realm mist, spanning all the distance between Hongjun and him.

As if space had folded.

As if the Concept of distance had been nullified.

The five fingers closed together.

Gripping Hongjun's neck.

The whole process took less than a breath.

Lord Hongjun, the master of the Heavenly Dao, was thus pinched in a hand.

His two legs hung in the air, kicking about.

Both hands clawed at Bodhi's fingers, desperately trying to pry them apart.

Couldn't move them.

Not even a fraction of a shake could be made.

"Let... let go..."

Hongjun's voice squeezed out of his throat, thin and high‑pitched.

Where is any trace of the Dao Ancestor's dignity left?

A living old hen, hoisted up.

Sun Wukong saw the scene.

He smiled.

He laughed so hard his body rocked forward and back, almost dropping his Iron Staff.

"Hahaha!"

"Old Hongjun! You have your day too!"

"Back then when you pressed the Heavenly Dao against me, you weren't like this, were you?"

"What did you say back then? Make me kneel? Make me accept fate?"

"Who kneels now?"

Sun Wukong leapt into Mid‑Air, rushed to Hongjun's face, and spat at that twisted old visage.

"Aren't you stepping on the Dao Ancestor? Aren't you the Ancestor of Ten Thousand Laws? Aren't you the Lord of the Heavenly Dao?"

"Why are you being pinched like a worm?"

"Struggle! Show me you can struggle!"

Hongjun's face swelled purple, unsure whether from being pinched or enraged.

His mouth was open, trying to speak, trying to preserve the last shred of dignity.

But Bodhi's hand tightened a bit more.

"Ah!"

Hongjun let out a Cànjiào.

That voice was filled with Fear Heart Demon and pain, with not a hint of composure.

"Master! Pinch him to death!"

Sun Wukong hopped beside it, shouting.

Bodhi ignored the monkey.

His gaze fell on the jade disc at Hongjun's waist, which emitted a faint glow.

Creation Jade Disc.

It is where the Heavenly Dao foundation resides.

Hongjun's life root.

"This thing."

Bodhi muttered to himself, "Keeping it is also a disaster."

Hongjun's eyes instantly widened.

"No! You cannot…"

Bodhi's other hand reached out.

Two fingers pinched the edge of the Creation Jade Disc.

He applied a little force.

Snap.

The crisp sound was not loud.

But everyone present heard it.

The Creation Jade Disc cracked open a fissure in the middle.

Hongjun's body twitched, and old blood spurted from his mouth.

"Stop! That's the Heavenly Dao foundation! If it's shattered, the Heavenly Dao will…"

Bodhi didn't let him finish.

His fingers pressed again.

Snap.

The Creation Jade Disc shattered into powder, scattering through the gaps between his fingers.

Each fragment that fell caused Hongjun's aura to plunge sharply.

Great Luo Golden Immortal.

Taiyi Golden Immortal.

Heavenly Immortal.

Earth Immortal.

Mortal Immortal.

In the blink of an eye, the Heavenly Dao Lord who once stood at the pinnacle of the Three Realms saw his Xiūwéi drop to the bottom of the valley.

Hongjun's Cànjiào no longer sounded human.

It resembled a skinned beast's final wail.

His golden hair turned white.

His golden eyes turned gray.

The Heavenly Dao divine light that enveloped his body was completely extinguished.

In the end, what Bodhi held in his hand was a withered, gaunt old man.

Everyone on the battlefield stared dumbfounded.

Among the hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers, some bold ones lifted their heads.

The sight they saw shattered their three fundamental views.

They had worshipped the Heavenly Dao Lord for countless years, only to be pinched in someone's hand like a chick, their bodies convulsing, utterly powerless.

Bodhi released his grip.

Hongjun fell from Mid-Air.

He crashed onto the ground.

He landed in a dog‑chewed mud heap.

He lacked the strength even to get up, lying there convulsing, foam of blood constantly spilling from his mouth.

Sun Wukong crouched down, looking at the tragic scene.

"Dao Ancestor."

His tone carried a hundred thousand years of hatred and exhilaration.

"How does the taste of the ground feel? Compared to the feeling you had when you stepped on someone's head back then, is it not quite the same?"

Hongjun no longer had the strength to speak, only able to emit a whimpering sound.

Sun Wukong stood up and spat at him.

"Pah."

"Dog thing."

Bodhi patted the non‑existent dust on his hand.

He turned around.

Those gray eyes passed over Hongjun, who lay on the ground like trash.

They passed over the dazed Jade Emperor.

They passed over the convulsing Tathagata.

It finally stopped on the two figures in the distance, curled up together and trembling.

Reception.

Zhun Ti.

The Two Western Saints.

Bodhi's mouth corner twitched.

"You two."

"You're in such a hurry to run—does that mean you don't plan to stay for a cup of tea?"