High above in the Thirty-Three Heavens, Lord Genesis stroked his long beard and sighed in confusion. "Could it be that Shakyamuni has prepared a hidden move?"
"What hidden move?" Lord Skygate snorted with a laugh. "Since the monkey’s Dao-heart is hatred itself, do you really think he could let go of that hatred? In such a short time, could Shakyamuni really ‘convert’ him, make him embrace emptiness like the Fourfold Creed? If his Dao-heart is to be broken, it can only happen if Shakyamuni dies first."
"Let’s just watch. Perhaps Shakyamuni is simply tired, weary, and wishes to end it all early." Elder Terran Zhen said softly.
...
Yisu (Isabel Su) slowly descended toward the coastline of Eastrealm. When she was just a yard above the ground, the spiritual power supporting her suddenly vanished, and she collapsed onto the sand.
The sea wind howled in her ears, and the waves crashed onto the shore, battering Yisu’s body as well.
It was a bone-chilling cold.
Perhaps, at this moment in the Three Realms, only the ocean remained unfrozen.
After a long while, she finally forced herself to open her eyes and, bit by bit, propped herself up, dazedly gazing southward.
"Great Sage... what has become of Blossom Mountain?"
She swallowed dryly, struggling to stand.
Her face was already deathly pale.
She took the last spirit-restoring pill from her sleeve and swallowed it, then staggered step by step toward the south.
...
Blossom Mountain.
Monkey glanced around at the monks, smiling softly. "Do you think everything is yours to decide?"
Before his words had faded, his grip on the Golden Staff tightened. In an instant he vanished from his spot and appeared behind a nearby Buddha. With a swing of the staff, the Buddha’s head was smashed to pieces, his body crashing to the ground as a cloud of dust rapidly spread.
Everyone present from the Buddhist order gasped in shock.
Shakyamuni raised his hand, and once again, Monkey’s senses were locked down—every perception wiped away.
Just like before, the scene before his eyes cycled endlessly: the sparrow soaring freely in the sky, the wind chimes at Crescent Star Cave’s entrance, cold Yang Chan, stubborn Fifth Brother Qingyunzi, hot-tempered Third Brother Dantongzi, the earnest Second Brother Youquanzi urging him to give up, Shortbeak who only wanted to escape with him, Big Horn who napped in broad daylight... All the people and events of the past were replayed one by one.
Faced with this rapid replay of everything, Monkey only sneered coldly.
How much of this remains unbroken?
"How many of the Buddhist order do you actually recognize? With just the Adamantine Ring, can you really find them all?" Shakyamuni’s voice echoed in Monkey’s mind.
"Hehehehe, do I need to recognize them? Bald donkey, every last one of you deserves to die—!"
Monkey pointed into the air. A surge of spiritual power shot upward, exploded, and scattered as silvery crystalline motes, blanketing a fifty-li radius with him at the center.
All of Blossom Mountain was covered.
Every Buddha present was stunned.
Caressing the Adamantine Ring on his wrist, Monkey murmured, "The targets—everything living within my aura’s reach."
"What... everything living?" The Buddhas were startled, each one hastily backing away, turning to flee.
"Thanks to you... there’s not a single demon left on Blossom Mountain, so I have nothing left to hold back for." Slowly raising the Golden Staff, Monkey roared hoarsely, "Die!"
In an instant, the Golden Staff stretched at both ends, whirling in his hands so fast it formed an impenetrable barrier.
It swept through the sky, slicing the clouds. It skimmed over the earth, carving deep ravines. The earth-shaking, sand-blasting spectacle was something unseen since the dawn of creation.
The indiscriminate attack began.
Not only living things, but everything within the range—mountains, rivers, trees, ruins... even the scattered bones—were swept up in the chaos.
A sky-filling sandstorm buried everything, like a colossal tornado.
Monks of lesser cultivation were sucked toward him, ground into pulp. Even Buddhas and Arhats could not escape; under the immense suction, only those as strong as Right-Dharma Radiance Tathāgata, Manjusri, or Puxian could hold their ground—they could not break free.
Monkey opened his mouth wide, howling and roaring, pouring all his power into his rampage. The Buddhist order, helpless as soybeans tossed onto a millstone, were shredded by the whirling Golden Staff—many didn’t even have time to scream.
In less than the time it takes to burn one incense stick, more than half the Buddhist order lay dead or wounded.
...
High above in the Thirty-Three Heavens, Lord Skygate slapped his thigh hard. "Hahaha! He may not be one of our own, but I have to cheer for him. After this battle, those bald donkeys won’t recover for centuries. And with Shakyamuni’s Dao-heart wounded, even if he wins, Heaven and Earth won’t be ruled by Buddhism alone! Satisfying! Hahaha! Satisfying!"