Chapter 471

Six-Eared Macaque

Six-Eared Macaque's teeth click-clacked, it used all four limbs, wishing it could turn itself into a stone.

Tathagata

Because Bodhi's words were like a knife held to its throat.

Hongjun

These six words made the Six-Eared Macaque's soul scatter half.

Zhunti

After the battle of the True and False Monkey King, it has been hidden by the Tathagata in the dark, waiting for an opportunity.

In today's great battle, it was originally supposed to deliver a fatal blow to Sun Wukong at his weakest moment.

The Tathagata had told it that if it killed Sun Wukong, it could choose any Buddhist position in the Western Heaven.

Heavenly Soldiers

anguished cry

cultivation

Three Realms

Golden Immortal

Six-Ears

Golden Body

A hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers fell from the sky like dumplings, landing in a chaotic mess.

True and False Monkey King

Earth Escape Technique

Run.

Anywhere will do; the farther from here, the better.

Its body was already moving, its limbs pressed to the ground as it crawled toward the edge of the ruins.

As long as it crawled out of this area, as long as it left Bodhi's field of vision, it could use the earth-escape technique.

Three steps.

Two steps.

One step.

Its hand had already touched the edge of the ruins.

Then a force descended out of nowhere.

Like an invisible giant hand, from a distance of 108,000 li, it precisely grabbed its nape.

The Six-Eared Macaque's body rose into the air.

It wasn't jumping on its own.

It was being lifted up.

Like lifting a drowning cat.

It struggled wildly in mid-air, limbs flailing, emitting a sharp Cànjiào from its mouth.

But that invisible hand didn't budge.

The next second, the Six-Eared Macaque appeared before Bodhi.

It finally saw the old man's face clearly.

A face bland to the extreme.

His gaze toward it was no different from looking at an ant.

A hot surge welled up in the Six-Eared Macaque's pants, trickling down its leg.

It had urinated.

"Senior... senior..." the Six-Eared Macaque's voice trembled out of tune, "It's not my fault... it was all the Tathagata who made me do it... I was forced too..."【44】 Bodhi paid it no heed.

Bodhi ignored it.

He didn't even glance at it properly.

The old man merely held the terrified, limp monkey in mid-air, examining it as if it were a dirty piece of clothing.

Then his gaze shifted to the motionless figure lying in the ruins.

Tathagata.

This former leader of the Fómén was now in utter disgrace.

His Golden Body was shattered more than half, revealing the defeated flesh beneath.

His Xiūwéi was still wildly regressing, and he could barely hold onto the Golden Immortal realm.

Yet he remained conscious.

Because he heard the Six-Eared Macaque's Cànjiào.

The Tathagata's body moved.

He braced himself against the ruins and slowly lifted his upper body.

His face was smeared with blood and shattered golden flakes, mixed together, looking both repulsive and pitiable.

"Senior..." the Tathagata spoke.

His voice was hoarse, carrying a tone of appeasement.

"Six-Ears... Six-Ears may have erred, but its nature is not evil..."

"It is the future hope of the Fómén... my most enlightened disciple..."

"Please, senior, give me a break…"

Sun Wukong's eyebrows twitched.

The future hope of Fómén?

The most insightful disciple?

Heh.

When it pretended to be me, you didn't say that.

You called it a monster, deserving to be beaten and killed.

When you personally pinned it to the ground and I finished it with a single stick, you never mentioned any "future hope."

Sun Wukong was about to utter a couple of curses.

But he didn't get the chance.

Because Bodhi moved.

The old man didn't even turn around.

He just flicked his back of the hand toward the Buddha.

Just like that.

Lightly and nonchalantly.

Like swatting a fly.

An invisible force crossed a hundred‑zhang distance.

The Buddha's whole face seemed to slam into an invisible wall head‑on.

His head jerked sharply to the right.

A puff of white Debris flew from his mouth.

Tooth.

Half a mouthful of teeth flew out.

Along with Bloodshot and shattered gum tissue, it traced an arc in the void.

The Buddha's body was hurled dozens of zhang away by the slap's force, crashing heavily into another pile of ruins, scattering broken stones everywhere.

Nothing moved for a long while.

After a while, the Buddha pushed half a head out of the rubble.

Mouth full of fresh blood, cheeks swollen like risen buns, lips rotting beyond recognition.

He opened his mouth.

He didn't dare speak again.

He retreated into the Debris pile, motionless.

Sun Wukong watched the scene, his mouth corner curving almost to his ears.

Satisfying!

So damn satisfying!

That old bald donkey, who once sat in Da Lei Yin Si with a lofty, boundless‑Buddhism façade, what about now?

Like a beaten, silent, pathetic scoundrel.

Bodhi withdrew his hand and refocused on the Six-Eared Macaque suspended Mid‑Air.

This time he stared directly.

The Six-Eared Macaque met those gray eyes, and all the blood in its body solidified.

That gaze held murderous intent.

Not a violent, raging murderous intent.

It was something even more terrifying.

Cold.

Cold to the bone.

Like watching a bug destined to be crushed, merely contemplating the best way to crush it.

"You stole my disciple's appearance."

Bodhi spoke.

His voice was flat.

"You stole his title."

"You stole his weapon."

"You stole everything of his."

The Six-Eared Macaque frantically shook its head: "It wasn't me… it was the Buddha who…"

"I…"

That one sentence forced the Six-Eared Macaque's remaining words back into its throat.

Bodhi raised his right index finger.

No light on the fingertip, no aura of power, nothing at all.

But when this finger touched the Six-Eared Macaque's Heavenly Spirit Crown…

The Six-Eared Macaque let out a wail that could scare even ghosts away.

Its body convulsed violently.

Something was being drawn out of its body.

A strand.

A thread.

A line.

Like peeling an onion, layer by layer, tearing down.

Its stolen Seventy-two Transformations are gone.

Its stolen Somersault Cloud is gone.

Its imitated Golden Cudgel technique is gone.

Its thousand‑year cultivated magical power is gone.

All the divine abilities, all the tactics, all the confidence that let it dare to impersonate the Great Sage Equal to Heaven were stripped clean by a single finger of Bodhi.

The Six-Eared Macaque's body shrank rapidly.

Its dark golden hair turned into a dull grayish mottled color.

Its agile form shrank into a palm‑sized ordinary macaque.

Its gaze is changing.

That cold, cunning, calculating light dimmed little by little.

Spiritual intelligence is fading.

Consciousness is blurring.

In the end, what Bodhi held in his hand was just an ordinary little beast, indistinguishable from the common macaques found everywhere in the mountains.

Sun Wukong walked over and gave it a glance.

This thing back then impersonated him.

Wounded Tang Seng.

Killed the mortals on the pilgrimage.

Wearing his Great Sage Equal to Heaven title, it did a bunch of vile deeds.

Almost caused him to be beyond redemption.

Now?

Is that all it is?

Sun Wukong snorted from his nose, not even interested in looking again.

"Master, just crush it dead."

Bodhi shook his head.

"Too cheap for it."

The old man's other hand pointed into the void.

That little Six-Eared Macaque, which had already lost its spiritual intelligence, was fixed in Mid‑Air by a force.

Its limbs spread.

As if nailed to an invisible wall.

Unable to move.

Then Bodhi's voice sounded.

There was no fancy incantation, just two characters.

"Ten Thousand Swords."

Swords condensed in the void.

They are not real weapons.

They are transparent long swords formed from principles.

One.

Ten.

Hundred.

Thousand.

Ten Thousand.

They were dense, filling all the space around the Six-Eared Macaque.

Each sword's tip was aimed at the nailed little macaque.

Then, the swords fell.

Ten Thousand swords pierced simultaneously.

The Six-Eared Macaque let out a scream of extreme sorrow.

It was no longer a monkey's cry, but the sound of a living thing being forced into a meat grinder.

Ten Thousand transparent long swords pierced its body, from every angle, stabbing every inch of flesh.

But it did not die.

It cannot die.

Because those swords were not meant to kill it.

They were meant to torment it.

Bodhi's principle kept it forever in a "near‑death" state.

Feeling the pain of ten thousand swords piercing its body.

Yet it could never truly cease breathing.

One day.

One year.

Ten thousand years.

Until heaven and earth grow old.

The Six-Eared Macaque's Cànjiào grew weaker and weaker, not because it didn't hurt anymore, but because it had no strength left to cry.

Only a faint, spider-silk-like lament remained.

Sun Wukong glanced twice, then turned away and stopped looking.

It wasn't that he couldn't bear it.

He just found it annoying.

Master, this little task is done.

He shouldered the Iron Staff and approached Bodhi.

Where are we headed next? Ling Shan?

Bodhi did not answer.

Bodhi's gaze swept past the Six-Eared Macaque, bound in midair and suffering punishment.

Past the Tathagata feigning death among the ruins.

Past the Jade Emperor, shrunk to the size of a quail.

He looked toward the distant void that was trembling.

Something was approaching there.

An aura that made Bodhi narrow his eyes slightly.

Ancient.

Older than Hongjun.

Older than the Heavenly Dao.

The old man withdrew his gaze and looked at his disciple.

Ling Shan can wait.

Work has come.