Chapter 508: Kneel!

New rules for the Three Realms!

The Grand Void's wail echoed above the ruins.

That sound was like a dull knife sawing bone, making one's teeth ache.

His left side had collapsed, broken bones jutting out from beneath the flesh, black blood flowing all over the ground.

The remaining over three hundred old gods lay on the rubble, not daring to breathe.

A few closest to the Grand Void had blood splashed on their faces, so frightened they didn't dare wipe it, their faces frozen like corpses.

Silence.

So quiet you could hear the creak of the Grand Void's broken bones grinding together.

Sun Wukong moved the iron staff off the Grand Void's shoulder, then casually tapped it twice on the ground, shaking off the flesh stuck to the tip.

"Do you know why I didn't kill you with one blow of the staff?"

The Grand Void was in so much pain he couldn't speak, only able to emit a hissing breath.

Sun Wukong didn't wait for an answer.

"Because dying too fast would be too easy for you."

He shouldered the staff and took two steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the old gods strewn across the ground.

Like looking at a herd of livestock awaiting slaughter.

"Back when you sat high upon Heaven—"

His voice wasn't loud, but each word struck the spines of those old gods.

"When mortals were devoured by demons, you were drinking."

"When villages were slaughtered, you were playing chess."

"When the whole city knelt on the ground, kowtowing for rescue until their foreheads bled dry, you didn't even lift an eyelid."

He stopped his steps.

He lowered his head to look at a old god curled up beside his foot, trembling like a sieve.

"You think mortal lives aren't worth anything, right?"

"You think that living tens or hundreds of thousands of years makes you nobler than ants, right?"

Sun Wukong curled his lips.

"Fine."

"Today I'll let you know what it feels like for ants to be stepped on."

As soon as he spoke, the old gods lying on the ground burst into wails.

Some clutched their heads and rolled around.

Some smashed their foreheads into the ground, pounding until their faces were bloody messes.

Some shouted until their voices cracked, sounding like a strangled duck.

"Great Sage, spare my life—"

"I was wrong! I really was wrong!"

"Please raise your noble hand! Spare this lowly dog's life!"

The cries of fathers and mothers mixed together, sounding like the slaughter of a New Year pig in a market.

All the old gods scattered on the ground understood one thing.

Today, escape from calamity is impossible.

That monkey never intended to waste words with them.

From the first word he spoke, this was an execution, not an interrogation.

A few old gods lying at the outermost edge of the crowd had their eyes darting wildly.

They exchanged a glance.

They resolved to fight.

Since we're all going to die, we might as well give it our all!

"Kill—!"

With a fierce shout, three old gods sprang up simultaneously.

The first, his whole body clad in stone armor, clasped his palms and drew from the void a three‑zhang‑long bronze great axe, its blade flickering with an eerie green light.

The second, a dark‑skinned old monster with four arms, formed seals with all four hands; a black ancient bell appeared above his head, its surface covered in twisted ghost faces.

The third, most extravagant, ripped his own heart from his chest; the heart swelled and deformed in his palm, turning into a spear entirely blood‑red.

The three natal divine weapons simultaneously erupted with terrifying pressure.

These were their trump cards, forged over countless ages.

Back then, any one of them could destroy a world.

The three roared in unison, pouring all their cultivation into the weapons and hurling them at Sun Wukong.

Sun Wukong didn't even turn his head.

He planted the iron staff in the ground, freeing his right hand.

He backhanded a slap.

Just a slap.

As casual as swatting a fly.

"Bang!"

The bronze great axe snapped in half at the middle, its eerie light vanishing like a blown‑out candle.

"Clang!"

The black ancient bell was flattened by the wind pressure from the slap, like a soda can stepped on, and the ghostly faces on it all cracked.

"Crack!"

The blood-red spear, together with that heart, exploded into fragments, and red blood mist spread in the air.

The bodies of the three old gods flew faster than their divine artifacts.

Like three balls hit flying by a baseball bat, they shot straight out into the distance, smashing through seven or eight floating stone islands, finally embedding somewhere in the wreckage, their shadows no longer visible.

Sun Wukong retracted his palm.

He rubbed it twice on his thigh.

Xián zàng.

That's it?

These old things' natal divine artifacts, cultivated for tens of thousands of years, were no different from mud toys in his presence.

The scene fell completely silent.

They didn't even dare to cry.

All the old gods pressed their faces firmly to the ground, wishing they could bury themselves in the rubble.

Sun Wukong glanced around, confirmed no one dared to move anymore, turned back and shouted behind him.

"Yao."

A seven-colored rainbow light drifted nearby.

Yao landed beside him, dream power circulating around her, making her whole person look like a moving star.

"Seal all the exits of this space."

Sun Wukong lifted his chin at those old gods.

"Don't let even a mouse escape."

Yao didn't ask further.

She clasped her hands together, and her crimson-gold pupils flashed for a moment.

The boundary of the entire ruins star field was silently covered by a semi-transparent dream realm membrane.

That membrane looked light and airy, like a soap bubble.

But its essence is "materialized dream"—any existence trying to cross it will be trapped in an endless loop of dreams, never finding an exit.

A few old gods who had just been secretly moving toward the outskirts, upon touching the membrane's edge, instantly rolled their eyes and fainted on the spot.

Not even a struggle.

The retreat was cut off.

Completely cut off.

Sun Wukong slung his iron staff over his shoulder and walked back into the crowd.

He stood there, looking down from above at the old gods sprawled on the ground.

More than three hundred terrified faces, more than three hundred trembling bodies.

"Listen up, everyone."

His voice spread throughout the entire space.

"Today's beating isn't just for you."

"It's for all the old things in the Three Realms who still harbor a hope of luck."

"From today onward—"

He slammed his iron staff to the ground, and the entire star field shuddered with it.

"The strong bullying the weak—kill."

"Using power to oppress—kill."

"Treating mortal lives as worthless—kill."

"No matter if you are a saint reborn, an ancient orphan, or an innate powerhouse—"

"Break this rule, and I'll personally come collect."

Having said that, he looked around.

Not one of the more than three hundred old gods dared to make a sound.

Sun Wukong nodded in satisfaction.

"Fine."

"Then let's begin."

He raised his iron staff.

He walked toward Tai Xu.

In Tai Xu's pupils, the approaching crimson-gold iron staff was the clearest image of his life.

And at this moment—

The crack on the distant sealing tree went from three to seventeen.

A death-white light column shot out from the crack, illuminating half the edge of the universe.

Bodhi Patriarch set down his teacup and slowly rose.

His gaze pierced the endless void and fell upon that tree.

His lips moved slightly, uttering two words.

"... He has come."