Chapter 806: The Tight-Fillet Spell — Physical

"Boom!"

Thunder exploded, shaking heaven and earth; the Vajra glared with fury, shattering space.

Sun Wukong's Golden-Hooped Rod flew out, spinning continuously in midair, and landed before Tang Luo, slanting into the ground.

The Buddha maintained his palm-striking posture.

The wound on his left palm had already healed, but his right palm remained a black "bone chicken claw."

His sneak attack was somewhat disordered.

Before his eyes, Sun Wukong slowly fell, a spark of flame igniting and burning him to ash.

It appeared the victor was still the Buddha.

But there was not the slightest ease on his face; on the contrary, it was exceedingly grave.

The eighth time!

This was the eighth time he had killed Sun Wukong.

With Tang Luo's words "Battle intent undying, spirit indestructible," Sun Wukong had already broken free from death and returned a full seven times.

This death, to him, was likewise merely a brief respite.

And, upon each return, Sun Wukong grew stronger than the last; at first he still needed the aid of "Boundless Dharma" and "Demonic Flames" to contend with the Buddha.

Only then could he match the Buddha.

But now, he and the Buddha were already evenly matched, victory or defeat hanging by a thread.

The Buddha's body, hidden beneath his golden monastic robes, was already covered in wounds.

How many more times could he kill Sun Wukong?

Even the Buddha himself did not know.

And what alarmed the Buddha most was Sun Wukong's state.

From the initial return in rage, to the later calm, even a sense of dreamlike detachment from the world.

Even in the midst of battle his mind wandered; during those moments of distraction, a sharp glint would occasionally flash in his eyes, and Sun Wukong's strike would wound the Buddha.

He was undergoing a transformation.

This transformation was no good news for the Buddha; it was like a vortex dragging him into an endless abyss.

Ripples stirred in the space behind him; the Buddha whipped around, looking back, but his normal line of sight swept up nothing.

Before him was "empty void."

Well, not truly empty void; lowering his gaze a little, he could see a slightly withered man with a rather sharp-mouthed, monkey-cheeked look.

This man was a bit short; with the Buddha gazing straight ahead, his line of sight could not catch this man.

"Heh."

Locking eyes with the lowered-head Buddha, Sun Wukong revealed a smile, carrying a trace of cruelty, ferocity, and discontent.

What do you mean by lowering your head?

Boom!

Wind and thunder surged, a god-and-demon-like aura erupting; Sun Wukong threw a punch!

Tyrannical to the extreme — in heaven and on earth, I alone am honored!

The Buddha's expression was grave; he extended a hand, forming a palm to meet it, golden light surging from his palm, drawing forth mighty power to form an invisible defense blocking Sun Wukong's fist.

However, before absolute berserk power, it had no effect.

The Buddha's left arm bent, his body flying backward.

A blood-red crack appeared from his palm, spreading to his elbow, shoulder, even his neck.

Golden blood seeped from the crack.

Sun Wukong pressed his advantage without relent, appearing before the Buddha, delivering another fist.

"Om, Ma, Ni, Pad, Me, Hum!"

The Buddha opened his mouth, uttering the Six-Syllable Mantra.

Golden characters circled around him, overlapping before him; Sun Wukong's fist landed on the characters.

Shattering five characters in succession, blocked by the sixth, the force exhausted.

But before the Buddha could counterattack, Sun Wukong's other hand rose, spread open, the Golden-Hooped Rod falling into his grip, smashing down overhead.

Magnificent golden-red rod shadows swept across.

Accompanied by a dull thud, the Buddha's body plummeted, smashing heavily into the ground, the earth trembling.

A bottomless deep pit appeared.

"Grow."

Sun Wukong tossed the Golden-Hooped Rod, letting out a low shout.

In midair the Golden-Hooped Rod enlarged; he leapt atop it, right hand clenched, raising it not too high, then bringing it down!

The Golden-Hooped Rod whistled downward, smashing squarely onto the Buddha as he flew out of the deep pit.

The Buddha fell back into the deep pit; the Golden-Hooped Rod, due to the Buddha's powerful recoil force, flew back into the sky.

Sun Wukong's other fist also happened to smash down.

The Golden-Hooped Rod descended once more, colliding with the Buddha again.

The surrounding heaven and earth space had in fact been locked dead since the Golden-Hooped Rod enlarged.

For the Buddha, it was not that he could not move, but it was as if he were mired in a quagmire, movement extremely inconvenient.

Unable to dodge the Golden-Hooped Rod's smashes, he could only endure head-on.

Thus, Zhu Bajie and the others, who had already flown far away with Little White Dragon and the White Bone Spirit, saw Sun Wukong throwing one fist after another.

Like a pile driver, bombarding the "earth."

At first the Buddha could still see him fly out, but afterward he was completely suppressed by the Golden-Hooped Rod, leaving no trace.

One could only feel his power surging, roaring, weakening!

Suddenly, the fist Sun Wukong brought down turned into a palm; he reached out, grabbed the shrunken Golden-Hooped Rod, and clutching the rod, his whole body became a streak of light that rushed into the deep pit.

Soundlessly, formlessly, a power that annihilated everything spread out.

The surrounding earth vanished directly.

From a deep pit it turned into a gigantic, super-massive sinkhole.

At the center of the sinkhole, Sun Wukong held the Golden-Hooped Rod aloft; the rod shaft pierced through the Buddha's body, hoisting him in midair.

The Buddha's body hung naturally, his right hand's black bone palm already completely shattered.

Golden blood flowed down along the Golden-Hooped Rod, dripping onto Sun Wukong's hand.

Quite a lot also dripped directly onto Sun Wukong's body.

"Just you, and you want this old Monkey to be a dog?" Sun Wukong flung the Golden-Hooped Rod, tossing the half-dead Buddha aside without even a glance; he stepped on the void, rising into the sky.

Arriving before Tang Luo, Sun Wukong looked at him: "Who are you?"

Tang Luo looked at the 1.65-meter-tall Sun Wukong before him and smiled: "I am your master."

"Nonsense, Golden Cicada told me everything, Patriarch Subhuti was impersonated by him." Sun Wukong shook his head.

"Don't believe it?"

"Don't believe."

"Good, then let me make you believe." Tang Luo raised both hands, casually shook them, clenched his left fist — a faint cracking sound rang out, black spatial fissures emerged around the fist, slowly fading.

"Wukong, it's been a long time since we exchanged blows."

Tang Luo did not take out Xuan Bian; that was a weapon he later had Zhu Bajie forge. "Just let you recall the past, our spars under the setting sun — that was our lost youth."

Back then he faced enemies with nothing but a pair of bare palms.

Sun Wukong tilted his head, stowed the Golden-Hooped Rod: "Then come!"

"They're fighting, they're fighting!"

Zhu Bajie and the others in the distance retreated once more.

As expected, after Sun Wukong finished off the Buddha, he would inevitably make a move against the Great Heavenly Demon.

This demon monkey just wants to defy heaven!

Never submitting!

However, Zhu Bajie could feel the surging battle intent between them, but sensed little bone-chilling killing intent.

This point was different from when they fought the Buddha just now.

"Pfft!"

The already half-dead Buddha vomited a large mouthful of fresh blood; his incomparably sturdy body nearly fell apart.

His originally lofty bearing was completely torn to shreds, dragged down from the divine altar.

At this moment, he really wanted to curse.

Clearly others are fighting, yet the one getting beaten is him; Sun Wukong and Tang Luo exchange blows, collide, and the occasional leaked shockwaves of power.

Are bit by bit worsening the Buddha's injuries.

Originally he could at least move a little, even exert himself a bit, regulate his breath and act again.

Now, however, he is like a withered leaf drifting helplessly in a gale, completely unable to control himself.

At any time, anywhere, there is danger of being torn to pieces.

Passively probing the edge of death, the Buddha suddenly heard a voice: "Eat my Tight-Fillet Spell!"

Tight-Fillet Spell, Golden Fillet!

The expression on the Buddha's face flashed with anger; that Golden Fillet was originally the collar, the shackle he gave Sun Wukong.

A sharp tool for taming that demon monkey.

Result: it fell into the demon monk's hands, and then... then there was no then.

As time passed, the connection between the Golden Fillet and the Buddha grew fainter and fainter, until not even a thread of lingering connection remained, completely severed.

Just like one's own planted undercover agent being completely turned.

This feeling is not pleasant.

The Buddha feels awful here, and Zhu Bajie on the other side is also "tearing up in the wind."

When Tang Luo and Sun Wukong engaged, the space they occupied had already completely twisted, turning into a chaos; only two vague silhouettes could be faintly seen flickering in and out.

It looked as if both eyes had a distinct stinging sensation.

Occasional leaked power landed on the Buddha.

Each of those hits, even Zhu Bajie felt was very painful, very painful.

As Zhu Bajie heard the words "Tight-Fillet Spell," that chaos dispersed, and he saw the Demon Lord clamp the Golden Fillet onto Sun Wukong's head.

Then, two fingers interlocked, continuously tightening the Golden Fillet.

Tight-Fillet Spell · Physical!

Zhu Bajie's expression was strange, not knowing in what way to respond to this situation, he could only give an awkward laugh.

Isn't it just a Physical Tight-Fillet Spell? On the Demon Lord, it's also perfectly reasonable.

"Are you crazy."

Sun Wukong, head splitting from the Physical Tight-Fillet Spell, blurted out; then his body shook, his frame shrank once more.

From 1.65 meters he became 1.6 meters; simultaneously, a profoundly mysterious aura emanated from Sun Wukong.

His entire "monkey" form dissolved into motes of light and vanished.

Heaven and earth around him shifted, blurred, a chaos all around.

When they first set out west, Tang Luo received the Merit Jade Lotus from Guanyin and at that moment obtained the golden hoop.

But Tang Luo never put it on Sun Wukong.

What is the golden hoop for? It is to prevent the unruly Sun Wukong from disobeying and doing outrageous things.

But in reality? During the journey west, Sun Wukong, Zhu Bajie, and others all agreed that Tang Luo should wear the tightening spell to stop him from doing things too outrageous.

"I say, Master, go easy…… Look, Bajie is about to vomit."

In the later stage of the journey west, Sun Wukong often said this to Tang Luo.

"In a life-and-death battle, can you still hold back?" This was Tang Luo's reply.

But you are always in a life-and-death battle! —Sun Wukong kept these words in his heart, touching the golden hoop on his head.

This is because Tang Luo disliked his excessive talking and annoyance, so he put the golden hoop on Sun Wukong.

Well, actually it was just a few people bored and bored, making a bet there about whether this golden hoop or Sun Wukong's head was harder.

Sun Wukong wore it, and Tang Luo would then cast a tightening spell to see the result.

As for who was harder, no conclusion came out, but everyone could be certain that Tang Luo's strength was truly great.

You forgot how to chant the tightening spell, so you just went ahead and used a physical tightening spell?!

You're crazy, that's exactly what Sun Wukong said back then, and by the way, this "crazy" was taught by Tang Luo.

This is Sun Wukong's lost youth.

With the golden hoop on, the memory of the physical tightening spell, plus the final straw, he is also about to truly return.

Tang Luo lowered his head to look at the Buddha.

"Demon monk!" The Buddha gritted his teeth and spat out two words.

"These two words, you really say them fluently." Tang Luo waved his hand, and this Buddha with the same face as himself flew before him, "Let me recall an 'old acquaintance'."

The Buddha said nothing, revealing a faint cold smile.

"Originally I thought you were him, but now it seems you are not." Tang Luo said, "A separated spirit?"