Chapter 512: Awe the Three Realms!

Establish new rules!

The news spread across the Three Realms in less than the time of a single incense stick.

The fact that over three hundred old gods were Fèi le Xiūwéi, kicked into reincarnation, was like a pebble striking a calm water surface.

No, it was a meteor crashing into the surface.

The entire Three Realms exploded.

Above the ruins of the Heavenly Court, the remaining wandering immortals crowded together, their faces paler than the dead.

In the void outside Nan Tian Men, dozens of demon‑king‑level great demons squatted atop clouds, each more obedient than the last.

Even the atmosphere dared not take a breath.

They watched with their own eyes as over three hundred old gods whose Xiūwéi far surpassed theirs were kicked by that monkey into the reincarnation passage like a game of football.

That scene—

The Great Void's toothless mouth opened and closed.

The Goddess, her face full of wrinkles, rolled on the ground.

A being with tens of thousands of years of Xiūwéi turned into a frail old man who even staggered when walking.

Just recalling it made the spines of everyone present go cold.

"Damn, from now on I won't even dare step on ants,"

muttered a low voice from an Ox‑Head Demon King.

The Snake Demon beside him glared, "Shut up! You think death isn't fast enough?"

The Ox‑Head Demon King shrank his neck, daring not to utter a sound.

At that moment, a streak of crimson‑gold light shot from the depths of the starry sky.

Everyone's heart clenched hard at the same time.

It's coming.

That Killing God has returned.

Sun Wukong's figure appeared in the void at the center of the Three Realms, Yao stood at his side, and the surrounding Rainbow Light was soft and lazy.

Wukong's landing spot was high.

It was three heavens higher than the original Heavenly Court's Lingxiao Treasure Hall.

He glanced down.

A sea of densely packed heads.

Immortals, demons, ghosts, humans.

All were watching him.

All were waiting for him to speak.

Those gazes held Fear Heart Demon, reverence, flattery, and probing.

All kinds were present.

Sun Wukong slung the Iron Staff over his shoulder, and with his other hand he scratched his ear.

Very casual.

Casual as if strolling in his own backyard hills.

Yet that very casualness pressed down on everyone below, leaving them breathless.

"Listen up, everyone."

He spoke.

His voice was low, his tone flat, like chatting about daily life.

But when those words spread, every corner of the Three Realms heard them.

In the Eastern Sea Dragon Palace, Ao Guang sprang from the Dragon Throne.

In the Underworld's Reincarnation Hall, the Ten Hall Yama Kings all looked up.

In the mortal market, the old farmer selling vegetables paused his weighing rod.

The solitary cultivators meditating deep in the mountains opened their tightly shut eyes.

Everyone heard the monkey's voice.

It was as if someone whispered right next to your ear, not a single word missed.

"The old rules are all Fèi le. The Heavenly Court's set, Fómén's set, from today they're all crap."

The demon kings below nodded vigorously.

They liked that.

"The new rule has only one clause."

Sun Wukong raised a finger.

"All beings are equal."

Four words.

Simple beyond simplicity.

A moment of silence fell, then a short‑sighted wandering immortal muttered, "Is that it?"

As the words fell, a crimson‑gold gaze swept over.

The immortal's face turned ghastly white instantly, his legs went weak and he knelt on the spot, shaking like a sieve.

Sun Wukong withdrew his gaze and continued.

"What does that mean? Let me translate for you."

"From now on, on the Three Realms' territory, whether you're an immortal, demon, ghost, or human—your Xiūwéi may be high, but that doesn't give you the right to step on others' heads and defecate."

"Just because you've lived long doesn't mean you have the right to treat other people's lives as if they were nothing."

"You think you're impressive and want to speak with your fists? Fine."

He pointed at the void beneath his feet.

There, the lingering aura ripples left by the old gods being kicked away still remained.

"The Great Void has lived for over a hundred thousand years—pretty impressive, huh? Now which corner of the mortal world are you gnawing bark in?"

Below, not a single bird or sparrow made a sound.

A few demon kings' legs were going weak.

They knew exactly what was at stake— even if they borrowed ten, no, a hundred doses of courage, they wouldn't dare lose their composure before that Great Buddha.

Not to mention bullying the weak; from now on, even an ant will make them go around.

"From now on, anyone who dares to use their high Xiūwéi to oppress the weak—"

Sun Wukong's tone was nonchalant.

"The outcome will be just like those three hundred‑plus old things: Xiūwéi stripped, kicked into the cycle of reincarnation, and forever reduced to the lowest tier of Mortals."

"If you think I'm trying to scare you, go ahead and try."

No one uttered a sound.

Even their breathing fell three notches quieter.

A Jiao Long demon king knelt in the front row, his knees clacking against the void with a bang‑bang, shouting, "Great Sage says whatever, that's whatever! I, the junior, cast one hundred votes of approval!"

The bear demon beside him knelt as well: "Me too!"

"Me as well!"

"I also approve!"

A wave of them knelt en masse.

The demon kings knelt, and the scattered immortals followed suit.

Ao Guang knocked his head in the East Sea Dragon Palace, causing the mountain to reverberate.

The King Yans of the underworld exchanged glances, then rose together and performed a bow.

Within the Three Realms, there was no second voice.

Only submission.

Sun Wukong looked at the swath of dark, pressed‑down heads below, and his mouth twitched.

The rule was set.

Words alone weren't enough.

Something had to hold it down.

He took the Iron Staff off his shoulder and weighed it in his hand.

The crimson‑gold shaft glowed with a warm luster, and the green Vine Patterns on its surface flowed slowly, their rhythm breathing like a living creature as they contracted and expanded.

"Old buddy, I've wronged you."

He whispered the line, then raised his hand.

The Iron Staff shot out of his hand, straight toward the sky.

The crimson‑gold light left a long tail in the void, like a meteor flying upside down.

It rose higher and higher.

It grew larger and larger.

The Iron Staff swelled, expanding from one zhàng to ten zhàng, from ten zhàng to a hundred zhàng, from a hundred zhàng to ten thousand zhàng.

Everyone tilted their heads upward, watching the wildly growing Iron Staff.

It pierced downward from the center of the Three Realms, passing through the ruins of the Heavenly Court, through the mortal earth, through the deepest layer of the underworld, and finally lodged atop the foundation of the Three Realms.

Then it grew upward—

Through Yúncéng, through the star‑filled sky, through the barriers of the Nine Heavens.

A towering crimson‑gold pillar that seemed to support heaven and earth.

Its trunk was as thick as a mountain, and the Vine Patterns on its surface came alive, turning into real branches and leaves that clung to it.

Golden light radiated from the pillar, enveloping every inch of the Three Realms.

Warm, yet bearing an unchallengeable majesty.

Sun Wukong brushed the dust from his hand, looked up at his masterpiece.

At the very center of the pillar, two massive characters slowly materialized.

Equal Heaven.

The strokes were forceful, carving three points into the stone, exuding an indescribable dominance.

They weren't carved.

They grew from the Iron Staff's own pattern, naturally forming like a tree's growth rings.

Golden light burst from those two characters, sweeping across the entire Three Realms.

Everyone felt it.

The air was changing.

The murky, heavy layer that had shrouded the Three Realms since its birth—now vanished.

The turbid qi circulation was washed clean, point by point, by the golden light.

The stale odor of the old Heavenly Court, the incense‑ash scent of the old Ling Shan, the decay of the old order—all were evaporated by the golden light.

In its place came an unprecedented clarity.

Like the sky after a downpour.

Like a spring on the snowy mountain peak.

The Three Realms' fortune was completely renewed from its foundation.

No more filth.

No more corrosive worms could hide in the dark.

Because that pillar— that boundary marker— would light every corner.

As long as it stays planted there, the Three Realms cannot be overturned.

Whoever wishes to stir up trouble must first get past those two words.

Equal Heaven.

Not the Equal Heaven of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

It is all beings— Equal Heaven.

Sun Wukong withdrew his gaze, crooking his finger at Yao.

"Let's go, head home. Master's tea must have cooled."

Yao floated over, taking his hand.

The two turned into a stream of light and departed.

Behind them, within the Three Realms, countless Living Beings gazed up at the golden pillar that pierced Heaven and Earth.

Someone cried.

Someone laughed.

More people simply stood still, feeling a peace never before known.

From now on, there are no gods or buddhas above.

Only rules.

Equal rules.

……

Fangcun Mountain.

Bodhi Patriarch stood at the cliff's edge, his withered hand pinning a shard of pottery.

The tea cup shattered completely, debris still wet with tea stains.

He did not look at what was in his hand.

His gaze pierced countless worlds, Suǒdìng in that patch of Chaos Realm at the edge of the Universe.

On the trunk of the black giant tree, cracks had spread to the crown.

In the midst of seven clusters of azure flame, that golden eye slowly turned.

It was looking.

Gazing at the Three Realms.

Gazing at the newly erected boundary marker.

Gazing toward Fangcun Mountain.

Then——

It laughed.

How can a single eye laugh?

The pupil in the depths of the eye bent slightly.

Just that slight bit.

Bodhi's face showed no expression.

He threw the pottery shard off the cliff, turned and walked back inside.

As he passed the table, he casually brewed another cup of fresh tea.

His movements were slow, like an ordinary old fool.

But his left hand—the only hand that was intact—when gripping the teapot, its joints glowed with a faint gold.

That was a sign of preparing for battle.

"Come."

The old man lifted his teacup and spoke two words to the empty room.

The voice was soft, flat.

But the sky outside Fangcun Mountain darkened a little.