Chapter 591: Escape

Silver Horn was battered until his whole body ached, feeling no part of him was intact, yet he had not completely lost the strength to resist.

He strained to lift his right hand, lightning surging in his palm, and unleashed a point-blank palm strike of lightning toward Tang Luo.

Tang Luo still had one hand gripping Silver Horn's neck, while the other was clenched into a fist, delivering an inch punch that slammed into Silver Horn's palm.

Lightning crackled between them, unusually blinding.

At the moment their palm and fist collided, Silver Horn's palm underwent violent deformation, from fingers to elbow shattering inch by inch into a mist of blood, the injury rapidly spreading to his shoulder.

His entire arm instantly became a true severed limb, the front half gone.

The rear half consisted of shattered bone and flesh mixed together.

As for his palm lightning, not even a trace of scorched black remained on Tang Luo's fist.

"You're as fragile as paper, even that gourd just now was much harder than you," Tang Luo said, tossing the broken-armed Silver Horn to the ground.

Silver Horn's face was twisted to the extreme, a combination of pain, fury, and shock.

He had never imagined that Sun Wukong's master, this monk, could possess such strength.

Isn't it said that Sun Wukong protected Tang Sanzang on the journey to the West to obtain the scriptures!

With this strength, where would there be any need for that monkey to protect him?

In fact, they had even reforged it, making the Purple Gold Red Gourd stronger than before, yet he had shattered it from within with brute force.

Silver Horn's body twitched slightly, he opened his mouth, and spat out a gust of strong wind.

Wind Summoning Technique.

A raging wind swept in, lifting dust, rubble, grass, and trees from the garden, as well as the wine not fully dried, mixed into the soil.

Even the little demons and captives were swept up.

Yellow earth filled the sky, darkness overwhelmed the land, making it impossible to open one's eyes to see, and sensory perception was severely impaired.

Silver Horn himself vanished within this "sandstorm," his body lifting off the ground, seeking to use this opportunity to escape.

But having just flown less than ten meters, his foot tightened—Tang Luo had grabbed his right foot: "Where do you think you're going?"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Repeated booms echoed, the entire city trembled, the mountains shook.

The demons within the city shuddered one by one, sensing a faint yet present aura within the Lotus Palace.

It was the aura of a superior being, the breath of a killer.

It made this group of fearless, wild-natured demons instinctively feel immense fear from their very bones.

Some demons with insufficient cultivation or low spiritual awareness even directly revealed their true forms, curling up into a ball.

At that moment, the Black Snake Spirit outside the palace gates lay on the ground, still in human form but looking no different from a dead snake.

Even its forked tongue was lolling outside.

The golden-armored warriors outside the palace gates, upon hearing the first thunderous boom and feeling the vibration, had already rushed swiftly inside.

These golden-armored warriors appeared human, but were actually puppets forged by Silver Horn and Golden Horn.

Their strength was quite formidable—at least they could slaughter demons like the Black Snake Spirit with ease.

Fifty golden-armored puppets, wielding sharp long spears, surged from all directions toward Tang Luo.

Tang Luo stood in place, simply using the half-dead Silver Horn in his hand as a weapon, backhanding it in a wide sweep.

After smashing those puppets into disarray, Silver Horn was also nearly turned into a spiky mess, going from half-dead to on his last breath.

"Not much of a fighter," Tang Luo said, dropping Silver Horn, "Where's Golden Horn?"

Fortunately, aside from Silver Horn this waste, there was still Golden Horn.

Silver Horn said nothing, his mind filled only with the thought: "What kind of monster is this monk!"

Back then, Sun Wukong could say he had toyed with them until they spun in circles, and they had exchanged blows in duels a few times, but never had it been this fierce.

It was fundamentally not the same level.

Silver Horn clearly felt that this monk showed no restraint in his attacks, utterly embodying the attitude: "If you didn't die, it was luck; if you died, it was bad luck."

The viciousness of his strikes far surpassed that of his great demon disciple.

Who, then, is the real demon?

At this moment, Silver Horn even doubted: if it had been this monk who acted back then, would Sun Wukong have come to intervene?

After all, they were also attendants of the Supreme Old Lord.

Now that the Mountain and Sea Realm is shattered, the Supreme Old Lord's whereabouts are unknown, and these two attendants have no backing.

Sun Wukong won't come to intervene either; he's probably going to have to watch this monk beat them to death.

"Roar!"

Silver Horn let out a wild howl, his body beginning to swell.

"Oh?"

Tang Luo did not attack, instead stepping back with interest, watching Silver Horn's transformation.

The weapons on his body shattered, squeezed out from within, shooting outward like arrows in all directions.

Silver Horn's form kept expanding, silver-white hair sprouting, and moments later, a massive silver-white demon fox appeared beside Tang Luo.

But this demon fox's appearance was exceptionally miserable—its forelimbs had only one left, its hind limbs broken and twisted, its silver-white fur stained red with blood.

It struggled to remain half-prostrate on the ground.

"So you're actually a fox?" Tang Luo said, somewhat surprised, "Though it counts as an aberrant species?"

He had always thought Golden Horn and Silver Horn were human, never imagining their true form was a fox, and also a demon.

No wonder they had become demons directly upon descending to the lower realm, with an old fox as their mother—apparently returning to their old trade.

The fox Yin Jiao turned into was different from an ordinary fox — its head bore a spiral sharp horn; it was a special variant species.

Jin Jiao and Yin Jiao were little foxes Laozi casually took in many years ago; they ate Transformation Pills and assumed human form, and can be considered to have thoroughly left the ranks of the yaoguai, no different from humans.

Among the Daoist attendants of the Tushita Palace, not all are of the human race either.

Yin Jiao, revealing his true form, roared, murderous aura soaring to the heavens; the sharp horn on his head aimed at Tang Luo.

Blood light erupted.

The sharp horn detached from his head, accompanied by a large expanse of blood light, forming a blood-colored storm that spun and stabbed toward Tang Luo!

After unleashing this strike, Yin Jiao resumed human form, exhausted to the extreme, yet still forced himself to fly up, wanting to escape.

This was his last chance.

Facing Yin Jiao's near suicidal all-out strike.

Tang Luo raised his hand and threw a punch; fist and sharp horn collided, and the blood-colored storm was instantly scattered.

Yin Jiao's hardest, sharpest, most powerful horn shattered under this punch, leaving only some white fragments flying and scattering.

Sensing the violent power behind him, Yin Jiao burned his essence blood once more, fleeing with reckless abandon.

He had already used the life-consuming "Blood Light Escape Technique"; with his injuries, using such a spell, one careless moment and he might well breathe his last.

But Yin Jiao had no other choice.

Tang Luo shattered Yin Jiao's horn with one punch, looked toward the horizon where Yin Jiao had turned into a streak of blood light, and took a step forward.

His body vanished without a trace; only a few lotus petals fluttered down, landing on the ground and disappearing.

"Run, keep running." Yin Jiao heard a voice from the Nine Nether Hells behind him, like a death-summoning talisman; he redoubled his speed with reckless abandon.

That blood light had already spread into a dense blood color, almost completely covering Yin Jiao.

"Mother!"

One chasing, one fleeing, almost out of the Flat Top Mountain Range, he "finally" saw that familiar peak; Yin Jiao let out a shrill cry and his whole person plummeted down.

"Mother?"

Tang Luo found it a bit strange; if it was that old fox from the Dragon-Subduing Cave back then, shouldn't she have been beaten to death by Wukong with one staff strike?

Could it be these two acknowledged another mother?

"Who dares harm my child!"

A furious voice transmitted over; a streak of golden light flew out from the mountain peak, rushing straight at Tang Luo.

Tang Luo reached out and grabbed; the golden light coiled around his palm, spreading upward along his arm, and in the blink of an eye bound Tang Luo fast.

Stagnating in midair for two seconds, Tang Luo and Yin Jiao fell together.

The mountain peak beneath their feet split open; a gateway appeared, wide open, and an old woman with a full head of silver hair, bedecked in pearls and jewels, emerged surrounded by a bevy of beautiful women.

"My child!"

Seeing Yin Jiao fallen on the ground like a tattered rag, the old woman shrieked miserably.

Her originally wrinkle-piled face looked even more ferocious and terrifying.

Her stooped body forcibly straightened, looking at the falling Tang Luo: "Dare harm my child! You die for me!"

The rope on Tang Luo's body began to tighten, about to strangle him alive.

"This rope..." Tang Luo slightly raised his brow.

The Gold-Binding Rope isn't a mass-produced magic treasure like the Seven-Star Sword, Purple-Gold Red Gourd, or Mutton-Fat Jade Purifying Bottle; it is a magic treasure Laozi himself used.

Its power is greater, but this one on me feels quite a bit inferior.

Nor does it seem like a replica.

Could it be remade from a part of the Gold-Binding Rope?

As the rope tightened, the beautiful women beside the old woman also leapt up, eyes revealing fierce light, various weapons and magic treasures smashing down on Tang Luo.

Killing intent soared to the heavens, yaoguai qi ran rampant!

These are all yaoguai, and unexpectedly they are all fox spirits.

Only they are not the fox spirits from scholars' brushes, but life-taking yaomo guiguai.

Tang Luo's figure paused; the rope on his body blazed with golden light, yet still could not escape the fate of shattering bit by bit.

A thousand hands cannot defend!

Countless palm shadows filling the sky shattered those attacking weapons and magic treasures while also physically delivering salvation to that whole group of fox spirits.

As a renunciate, Tang Luo must keep his distance from these yaomo guiguai with respect.

Landing, Tang Luo looked at the old fox: "This poor monk remembers you were beaten to death by Wukong with one staff strike?"

"Mother, save me..." Yin Jiao uttered his final words with difficulty, and instantly fell silent.

Life force severed; only a great power capable of reversing fate could save him.

"Dare harm my son, surrender your life!"

The old fox revealed her true form — a decrepit, fur-shedding old fox; not a trace of bloodthirsty ferocity was diminished, she pounced at Tang Luo.

Tang Luo casually struck a palm, slapping the old fox back into the mountain body behind.

Then he stomped his foot.

The mountain body trembled, as if something was shattering.

"Aaaaaah!"

A miserable shriek came from the old fox's mouth; large numbers of vengeful ghosts and wronged souls appeared, tearing and biting at the heavily injured her.

Even as their forms perished they still had to bite a mouthful of flesh and blood from her.

This old fox didn't die because Laozi bestowed a pill before leaving that saved her — that was why Sun Wukong merely gave her one staff strike and didn't smash her into true annihilation of body and spirit.

Though she survived, she was already very, very old.

And having undergone the great upheaval of the Mountains and Seas Realm, she could only rely on a formation to continuously absorb the lives of living beings to sustain her vitality; the entire mountain peak was composed of white bones.

Tang Luo seriously wounded her, then kicked and destroyed the great formation.

The backlash alone was enough to kill that old fox.