Outside South Heaven Gate, Monkey floated silently in midair, surrounded by countless flashes of lightning.
The sky resembled a gaping, blood-red maw, with clouds converging into a cone. At its center, layers upon layers of crimson light poured down.
Each massive bolt of lightning carried deep-blue flames. Anything touched by those flames—be it the wreckage of a warship, a Daoist’s corpse, or even a floating boulder—was instantly burned to ash.
The entire world had become a living purgatory.
Monkey stared blankly upward at the anomaly above his head, his eyes already losing focus.
Slowly, he shook his head and blinked hard. He began dodging the lightning and celestial fire, all while pressing his body close to the shield of the South Heaven Gate Grand Formation.
......
Looking up from the ground, the direction of South Heaven Gate seemed like raging flames burning in the sky, painting the world red like a sunset.
“What on earth is that? Has the sun been remade?” King Gloomape shouted, pointing at the distant sky, but King Macaque dragged him forward by force.
“Forget it! First, figure out who the enemy is!”
At Blossom Mountain, the thunder of war drums echoed with the lightning in the sky as countless warships soared upward, heading northwest.
Amid the fluttering banners, Shortbeak stood at the prow, looking down at collapsed palisades, a field of demon corpses, and—thousands upon thousands of monks.
The last surviving demon officer, seeing the reinforcements arrive, hurriedly dropped his weapon and tried to fly away—only to be yanked back by a monk’s palm. With a twist of the arms and a sharp crack, the demon’s neck was broken, dropping him to the ground without a sound.
Shortbeak’s eye twitched. "Is that Spirit Mountain?"
On the deck, the fully armed demon troops had already begun whispering among themselves.
“What’s going on? Why is Spirit Mountain attacking us?”
“Aren’t these monks supposed to just eat vegetarian and chant sutras? What do they want?”
“Since they’re here, isn’t asking all this a bit pointless?” The Nine-Headed Wyrm glanced coolly at Shortbeak, who immediately raised his right hand in understanding.
The flag-bearer, receiving the order, swung the command banner with all his might.
“Prepare for a full volley—!”
With the order given, crisp metallic scraping rang out as countless Great Cannons and Thunder Tubes aimed at the monks.
......
Beneath the dark red sky, in the distance, Elder Leonard Ling and his disciples had already spotted Isabel Su’s fleet.
“It’s Elder Leonard Ling—at last, someone’s come out.” Isabel Su couldn’t wait and leapt onto the gunwale, soaring toward Elder Leonard Ling.
Before Many-Eyes the Centipede could follow, a demon officer rushed to his side. "Sir, news from Blossom Mountain—something’s happened."
“Something happened?” Glancing back at Isabel Su’s departing figure, Many-Eyes reached out to accept the bamboo slip handed over by the demon officer.
Landing steadily before Elder Leonard Ling, Isabel Su knelt on one knee. "Isabel Su of Blossom Mountain, greeting Elder Leonard Ling."
"No need for formalities." Elder Leonard Ling helped Isabel Su up, glancing left and right. "Let’s talk on the ship—I’m afraid Master might come out and stop us."
Isabel Su hesitated, then quickly nodded.
Just as they turned, Many-Eyes the Centipede landed beside them.