From all directions, waves of demon armies were advancing in grand formation toward Longevity Mountain. The Heavenly Court was already at its highest alert; it seemed the entire world was stirred into motion, nerves stretched to their limit.
Yet at that very moment, Marshal Silver’s sudden appearance brought the momentum to a halt, stopping the situation from spiraling further into chaos.
Atop the Ginseng Tree, Marshal Silver slowly revealed his true form. Even Simon Sun, far away, couldn’t help but furrow his brows.
High above, Master Taiyi quietly paused the spell he was about to cast.
Zhenyuan simply watched in silence, his face full of doubt and confusion.
The whole world fell silent.
After a long moment, Marshal Silver—now in his pig demon form—slowly opened his eyes, let out a faint sigh, and said quietly, “Just now, Everlasting Sage asked if this was my true form... This, now, is my true form—a pig... demon.”
Zhenyuan was stunned, gazing at the bloated figure, unable to speak for a long while.
The once imposing, handsome, and courageous heavenly general had ultimately become a pig. Though the rumors had long spread, seeing it with one’s own eyes at this moment was truly a shock.
A gentle breeze brushed his sleeve, and a bead of sweat the size of a soybean slowly slid down Zhenyuan's forehead.
After a long while, he hung his head, blinking desperately, lowering and raising his head again and again, wanting to speak but unable to say anything, still unable to make the final decision.
Marshal Silver glanced back at Simon Sun, and under the gaze of everyone above and below, he slowly walked toward Zhenyuan, bent down, and whispered something in his ear.
Moments later, Zhenyuan's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Marshal Silver. After a long pause, he shook his head helplessly. The Divine Wand he had been holding slowly drooped, and Zhenyuan instantly released the spiritual power he had gathered.
'No more fighting?' A thunderous voice rang out in everyone's mind—it was the Ginseng Tree speaking.
'We're done fighting.' Zhenyuan gently patted the tree trunk and sighed deeply, 'Go back.'
Then he gently patted Marshal Silver's arm, brushed past him along the massive branch, and walked forward, raising his head to face Simon Sun suspended in the air. He declared loudly, 'I will now heal Tripitaka.'
Instantly, the cultivators in the distance and the Skyward Rangers in the sky erupted in astonishment.
'What's going on? How could they just stop fighting?'
'What did that pig demon whisper to the Everlasting Sage?'
'After all this chaos, they just stop? Just like that?'
At this, Simon Sun furrowed his brows, but said nothing.
Zhenyuan blinked his bloodshot eyes, seemingly deep in thought.
Slowly turning his head, Marshal Silver looked at Zhenyuan: 'For Daoism, the ideal outcome is for Tripitaka to give up the westward journey on his own. That would mean his Dao-heart is unstable, and Daoism could avoid the demon king's wrath. But, Everlasting Sage, given the current situation, how likely is that outcome?'
Zhenyuan lowered his head and looked down. Amid the ruins, Tripitaka struggled to gaze up at the Ginseng Tree, already on the verge of collapse. Yet the determination in his eyes had not diminished in the slightest.
'If the Everlasting Sage still trusts Marshal Silver, then please hear me out: that ideal outcome for Daoism will never happen. If Tripitaka were someone who feared death and sought comfort, the westward journey would never have begun, and he could never have made it all the way to Five-Fruits Temple.' Marshal Silver paused, then continued: 'If that's not the outcome, then what comes next—the casualties, the destruction—the Everlasting Sage can surely guess. Daoism's greatest crisis may be resolved, but another crisis will be triggered early. What I mean is, some loyal ministers not only suffer tragic fates, but also bring disaster to nations. If I had handled my past difficulties more gently, I wouldn't have implicated Nisha, or my brothers in the Heavenly River Navy, nor would there have been that world-ending war... The Everlasting Sage is not afraid of death, and neither am I. But behind all this, there are things far more terrifying than death.'
Marshal Silver bowed deeply, clasped his hands, and said: 'So, I ask the Everlasting Sage to tell me how to save Tripitaka, and pull this world back from the brink of another great war... On behalf of all living beings, I thank you, Everlasting Sage.'
Zhenyuan was stunned.
The whole world fell silent.
A gentle breeze brushed his sleeve, and a bead of sweat the size of a soybean slowly slid down Zhenyuan's forehead.
After a long while, he hung his head, blinking desperately, lowering and raising his head again and again, wanting to speak but unable to say anything, still unable to make the final decision.
Marshal Silver glanced back at Simon Sun, and under the gaze of everyone above and below, he slowly walked toward Zhenyuan, bent down, and whispered something in his ear.
Moments later, Zhenyuan's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Marshal Silver. After a long pause, he shook his head helplessly. The Divine Wand he had been holding slowly drooped, and Zhenyuan instantly released the spiritual power he had gathered.
'No more fighting?' A thunderous voice rang out in everyone's mind—it was the Ginseng Tree speaking.
'We're done fighting.' Zhenyuan gently patted the tree trunk and sighed deeply, 'Go back.'
Then he gently patted Marshal Silver's arm, brushed past him along the massive branch, and walked forward, raising his head to face Simon Sun suspended in the air. He declared loudly, 'I will now heal Tripitaka.'
Instantly, the cultivators in the distance and the Skyward Rangers in the sky erupted in astonishment.
'What's going on? How could they just stop fighting?'
'What did that pig demon whisper to the Everlasting Sage?'
'After all this chaos, they just stop? Just like that?'