Chapter 505: Nine Old Rats, One Staff Clears the Field!

Two streams of light fell.

Crimson-gold and seven-colored light burst open at the center of the ruins starfield, like two meteors smashing into Dead Water.

Sun Wukong's foot firmly stepped on the exact center of the formation.

The blood-red formation built from nine ancient jade bones beneath his feet buzzed and trembled, its dark-red patterns writhing wildly, as if sensing some nemesis.

Yao fell beside him, the hem of the light robe not yet fully gathered, already beginning to scan the surrounding spirit vein lines.

Nine pillars of black flame violently shook at the same time.

Sun Wukong glanced down at the formation beneath his feet, then looked up at the nine old geezers hovering in midair.

"Tsk."

He bent over, gripping with one hand the Chaos Dao iron buried three feet deep in the ground, and flipped his wrist.

It came out.

Light as pulling out a weed.

He flicked the staff tip upward, drew a circle in the void, then steadily pointed it straight ahead.

Pointing at the nine old gods.

"Speak."

Sun Wukong tilted his head, the iron staff resting on his shoulder, its tip still dripping stone fragments.

"I'll give you a chance."

"Whether you spit out what you sucked out yourselves——"

"Or let me make you spit it out?"

None of the nine old gods answered.

Because they were retreating.

Tai Xu's step moved first.

He drifted back three steps, not fast, but his movement was extremely stiff, as if his knees had been welded shut.

The Yellow-Tooth Old God retreated five steps.

The two hiding deepest at the rear retreated directly over ten zhang, wishing they could squeeze themselves back into a spatial crack.

Nine ancient monsters who had lived through several epochs now looked as if they had seen a ghost.

No.

Even scarier than seeing a ghost.

They saw that monkey.

The monkey that reduced Hongjun to a mortal, smashed the Tathagata's Golden Body, and overturned Ling Shan's Heavenly Court.

Moreover, the monkey's aura…… was more than ten times stronger than the version they remembered.

Tai Xu's Adam's apple rolled.

He forced himself to stand.

He could not run.

If he ran, the eight behind would immediately scatter.

Once scattered, he would never in this lifetime be able to gather the formation again.

"Sun Wukong."

Tai Xu spoke, voice as steady as possible, "What are you doing here?"

"We are merely adjusting the spirit veins here; what does it have to do with you?"

"The Three Realms now have no master; us managing them ourselves is only fitting——"

Sun Wukong rolled a huge white eye.

The white eye rolled so far his eyeballs nearly flipped to the back of his head.

This bunch of old trash.

Even at death's door they still talk tough.

Adjusting the spirit veins?

Do you think I'm blind?

The formation underfoot is still sucking out qi, the rivers and seas of the Three Realms are about to be drained by you, and you talk about adjusting?

"You done speaking?"

Sun Wukong asked.

Tai Xu froze.

"Just say it's done."

Sun Wukong raised his hand.

The iron staff lifted high over his head.

Crimson-gold patterns and green vines on the staff lit up together, brilliant light flooding the entire ruins starfield into a blank white.

No charging.

No nonsense.

No extra movements.

Just one strike.

Come down.

Boom—

Before the sound could travel outward, the formation had already shattered.

Nine pieces of ancient jade bone shattered all at once the moment the iron staff fell; the black smoke that had just begun to rise from the fracture was blown back to the ground by the staff's wind.

The dark-red blood lines exploded into countless fragments, spraying in all directions.

The spirit-vein light pillars that had been forcibly drawn from all corners of the Three Realms snapped their links at the same instant, like kite strings cut by a single blade, snapping back to their sources with a series of pap pap pap sounds.

The earth trembled.

The entire ruined starfield shook.

The nine old gods were flung helter-skelter by the aftershock of that staff strike, like broken kites in a gale.

Grand Void was shaken into flying backward, crashing into a floating boulder that shattered on impact; his back sank into the rubble, and a trickle of black blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

The formation was gone.

One staff strike.

And it was gone.

Layouts spanning several ages.

Countless painstaking preparations.

An ancient formation that took three full days to build and complete.

One staff strike.

Sun Wukong planted the staff into the ground with a thud.

"Anyone else want to explain themselves to me?"

Nobody dared to make a sound.

Sun Wukong didn't wait for their answer; with a shift of his feet, he appeared before the Yellow-Tooth Old God.

The Yellow-Tooth Old God's pupils dilated, his hands instinctively forming seals; a black protective shield had just begun to coalesce into a rudimentary shape—

One kick.

Sun Wukong lifted his leg and kicked the shield dead center.

The shield shattered like paper, and the kick's force didn't diminish in the least, landing squarely on the Yellow-Tooth Old God's face.

The Yellow-Tooth Old God rolled like a torn sack across the ground for over ten turns, finally lying motionless in the rubble.

Sun Wukong walked over.

He stepped on his face with one foot.

He pressed down firmly.

His weight pressed a pit into the ground, the Yellow-Tooth Old God's wrinkled old face shoved into the mud, his mouth biting a mouthful of gravel.

"Pah."

Sun Wukong spat to the side.

"Back when Yao almost died in the Wanshen Fenchang, it was you who pointed the way for the apostles of the Original Mistake."

"You remember?"

The Yellow-Tooth Old God let out an indistinct whimper, his mouth full of mud.

"Do you remember or not?!"

Sun Wukong added a bit more force.

"Re…mem…ber… spare…"

Sun Wukong snorted, then lifted his foot.

But not because he went soft.

It was because he had to deal with the remaining few.

Meanwhile, Yao had already moved.

She did not join the fight.

It wasn't necessary.

She was doing something else.

Yao raised her right hand, fingers spread, and rainbow-colored light welled up from her palm, forming a vast canopy that spread toward the Three Realms.

The spirit veins drained by the old gods, the dried-up rivers, the shattered mountains, the dead plants— the moment the rainbow light covered them, they began to reverse.

Southern Zhanbu Continent—clear water suddenly gushed from the dry riverbed.

The water sounded with a splash, and the withered grass on both banks sprouted new shoots in an instant.

The cracked mountain range in the north—its fissures were healing at a visible pace.

The debris flew backward, as if someone had hit rewind.

The East Sea's tide surged back, the fish flipped over and came alive.

The old farmer kneeling on the parched earth lifted his head and saw the river flowing again past his feet.

He stood stunned for a long while.

Then he dropped to his knees there and burst into loud sobs.

Yao lowered her hand.

Her face was pale, as if she had just done something trivial.

Sun Wukong glanced over and grinned.

His wife is truly handy.

He fights, she heals.

They work together seamlessly.

Just as Wukong was about to take care of the remaining seven old gods one by one, heaven and earth suddenly fell silent for an instant.

A venerable, immeasurably vast divine sense spread out from the direction of Fangcun Mountain.

Bodhi Patriarch's consciousness covered the entire Three Realms.

It was not an attack.

It was not intimidation.

It was just a sweep.

It was like an old man opening his eyes and looking over every corner of the room.

That was all.

But just that sweep——

Across the Three Realms, the old god allies hiding in spatial cracks, lurking in the deep sea floor, and burrowing into the earth's core were pulled out one by one by an invisible force.

Beneath the North Sea ice plain, an ancient being that had hidden for two ages was dragged out from the ice, thrown to the ground, limbs stiff, face full of fear.

Under the western desert, thirty thousand zhang deep, an old god that had occupied the place for countless years was dragged out of its den, like a mouse being yanked out of its nest by someone.

In the cracks of the heavenly court's ruins, two remnants of old gods disguised as broken stone were seized by an invisible giant hand by the neck and flung straight under the sun.

At the deepest part of the Eastern Sea trench.

In the southern volcanic magma.

Even the edge of the Chaos Realm had them.

One, two, three… seventeen… twenty-three…

Everyone was pulled out.

Not a single one missed.

Bodhi's voice faintly echoed in Sun Wukong's mind.

"Twenty-three. Plus the nine in front of you, that makes thirty-two."

"All present."

"Clean up. Don't dirty my territory."

The voice transmission cut off.

Sun Wukong looked at the trembling Great Void before him, then glanced at the old god allies dragged out far away, trembling with terror.

He laughed.

He laughed so hard his teeth showed.

He spun the Iron Staff in his hand and hoisted it onto his shoulder.

"Thirty-two."

"Fine, today let's just treat it as practice."

Just as he was about to move, the vine patterns on the Iron Staff suddenly flashed intensely.

Sun Wukong's footsteps halted.

The Iron Staff resonated.

It was not resonating with him.

It was resonating with… something extremely far away.

That direction——

Was the place where he had previously planted that black tree.

Sun Wukong's smile slowly faded.

He remembered what Bodhi had said before.

"The Senior Brother sealed inside that tree—is he dead?"

"Really dead?"

The vines on the Iron Staff flashed again, this time brighter.

And far at the edge of the Universe, the towering black tree formed from an enemy——

On its trunk, a crack was slowly opening.

The light leaking from the crack was not golden.

It was white.

Deathly white.