After winding around two stretches of mountain road, Monkey’s party slowly approached the towering peak ahead, its summit lost in the clouds.
On the desolate mountain path, Monkey walked at the very front, his face expressionless. The harsh scraping of the Golden Staff dragging along the ground echoed through the mountains.
Aiden Ao’s grip on the reins grew tighter and tighter. Marshal Silver, clutching his Nine-Toothed Rake, walked at the rear, his eyes darting frequently toward the grass on either side of the path.
From time to time, a rustling noise came from the wild grass, as if something was moving rapidly within.
Everyone present—except Tripitaka—even the weakest among them, Aiden Ao, could sense the thick demonic aura and feel countless eyes secretly watching from the wild grass.
After hesitating for a long time, the Little White Dragon quietly asked, “Great Sage, isn’t that Holy Infant King’s father, King Bullhorn, one of your old subordinates?”
"His father once was. He is not."
“I heard from Louis Quickpaw that when trouble broke out at Five-Fruits Temple last time, his father personally led an army to reinforce you, but turned back halfway when the matter was resolved. Would Red Boy really dare defy you?”
“Who knows?” Monkey widened his eyes and grinned, chuckling deliberately—almost as if he wanted certain people to hear it.
Six hundred years ago, there wasn’t a single demon in all Three Realms who dared challenge him. Six hundred years later, things are not so certain.