At the foot of the snowy mountain, Nathan Young gripped the Jade Tablet, his hand trembling slightly.
"Father... what did you just say?"
"Get up there and support them!" On the other end of the Jade Tablet, General Lee suddenly roared, "King Macaque is not so easily fooled! I've fought him at least ten times! Get up there and save King Virūḍhaka—if you wait any longer, it'll be too late!"
Nathan Young, flustered and panicked, put away the Jade Tablet, glanced at the Heavenly Generals gathered around him, and said, "Quick, go save them!"
Before he finished speaking, he was already riding his Wind-Fire Wheels, charging out into the blizzard.
For a moment, the other Heavenly Generals were stunned, but could only follow him one after another.
Breaking through the fortress wall forged by the raging blizzard, Nathan Young quickly reached the summit. But before he could catch his breath, a figure was already flying straight toward him.
"King Virūḍhaka!"
Swinging his Fire-Tipped Spear behind him, Nathan quickly reached out and caught the barely breathing, blood-soaked King Virūḍhaka.
Turning his head, Nathan saw King Macaque standing atop the summit amid the wind and snow, leaning on his staff and gazing at him leisurely. In his hand dangled the severed head of another Heavenly General; the body had been flung who knows where.
At this moment, the remaining dozen Heavenly Generals had already arrived at Nathan Young's side, forming a protective circle around him and King Virūḍhaka.
Seeing this, King Macaque slowly grinned, his smile spreading wide: "Another battle formation? You people of Heaven never have a shred of a warrior's spirit—it's always a group assault, never any fun."
With that, he casually tossed aside the severed head, gripped his staff horizontally, and assumed an attacking stance. He chuckled, "Without King Virūḍhaka, can you alone, Nathan Young, anchor a formation strong enough to handle me?"
Hearing this, the Heavenly Generals all turned to look at Nathan Young.
Nathan Young glared at King Macaque, his face dark with fury. Only one word burst from his lips: "Attack!"
......
Spirit Mountain, Great Thunderclap Temple.
A monk, sleeves rolled up, hurried into the hall and bowed, reporting, "Venerable One, the Third Prince of South Heaven Gate, Nathan Young, and his party have engaged the reclusive King Macaque in battle in the icy wastes of the Northern Jambu Continent!"
Instantly, whispers erupted throughout the hall.
"What's going on now? Why is South Heaven Gate fighting King Macaque at this moment?"
In the distance, Monkey started to stride forward, but was abruptly grabbed by Marshal Silver.
"What are you planning to do?"
"Teach him a lesson. People like that need to be dealt with or they get too bold."
"Don't go." Marshal Silver sighed, watching Monkey. "This step, Tripitaka must take himself."
As the sun set, an entire afternoon's discussion ended without resolution.
Tripitaka returned disappointed, while the king fumed in frustration.
Back at their lodgings, Tripitaka saw the courtyard full of monks, looking even more miserable than yesterday, all wailing loudly.
Tripitaka wanted to comfort them, but found himself at a loss for words; he could only watch helplessly.
In the end, it was Monkey who stepped in and drove them all away.
After the monks had left, Tripitaka sat alone on a stone bench in the courtyard, lost in thought.
The others watched from a distance.
Night slowly fell.
Barry Bear approached slowly, holding a cup of hot tea, and set it on the table.
"It's getting late, and the wind is strong here. Master Tripitaka, you'd better go inside and rest."
Tripitaka slowly shook his head. "I really don't understand why His Majesty insists on keeping me here."
"What's so strange about that?" Barry Bear chuckled. "The king is devoted to Buddhism. Now that he's met a living Buddha like you, of course he wants to hold on tight."
Tripitaka asked casually, "Then how did he know I understand the Dharma?"
"Uh..."
In the distance, Monkey and Marshal Silver both pricked up their ears.
Tripitaka sipped his tea and spoke softly: "The king may be devoted to Buddhism, but his foundation is poor. If it weren't, he wouldn't have said what he did today, nor would he be ignorant of the principle of letting things take their course. In these two days, of all we've discussed, he's understood less than twenty percent. If being a high monk were judged by that alone, Faithseeker would have countless high monks! Yet for a single high monk, he's willing to gamble his throne. If he treated everyone that way, how could he have kept his throne until now?"
To the east of Faithseeker lies desert, with no trade routes; further east, the sealed Women's Kingdom blocks all passage. Even if the king had heard of me, the news could only have come indirectly from distant Cartwright Kingdom—an extremely unlikely chain.
So, someone must have spoken to the king directly—a person whose words carry overwhelming authority, enough to fix him on one idea and make him persist no matter what I actually say.
From a rooftop, Monkey listened, his eyes narrowing as he realized they were caught in a deliberate design.