Vent, vent—at this moment, what the Monkey King needed most was to vent.
He had no idea where this power came from—surging, seemingly endless. With a single leap, he soared dozens of meters, five zhang high; even sheer cliffs felt like level ground, as if he were riding the clouds.
His foot stomped on a resting branch, splitting the thick limb. His fingers gripped the trunk, leaving five deep grooves.
Sharp branches scraped across his body, tearing his skin, yet he felt no pain at all.
On the contrary, the blood that splattered made him even more frenzied, even more exhilarated!
He vaulted over peaks, darted through forests, heading straight for the Scripture Tower without a moment's pause.
The power within him had never surged so fiercely, as if it were endless—just waiting for the Monkey King to unleash it.
He kicked off from the edge of the cliff and leapt, landing solidly and shattering the ground beneath him.
He trembled, gasping for breath, and slowly stood up.
In the moon’s shadow rose a seven-story tower, its eaves carved with wind beasts—ancient and solemn.
Before him stood the Scripture Tower.
The Daoist guards of the Scripture Tower were startled by the Monkey King's arrival, quickly brandishing their weapons.
The Monkey King had come straight to the front gate!
Eugene rushed out from the tower, drawing his flying sword, but was so shocked he didn’t know whether to advance.
"What is he trying to do? Through the front gate?" Eugene’s eyes widened.
The Monkey King often sneaked into the Scripture Tower to steal books—everyone in the monastery knew it. Eugene, directly tasked by Subhuti to guard the tower, had always turned a blind eye.
But why would the Monkey King come through the front gate? Isn’t this... making things difficult for him?
Eugene couldn’t understand.
The Monkey King slowly stepped forward, breathing deeply. Each bare foot pressed into the ground, leaving deep footprints.
Moonlight illuminated his face.
All the Daoist disciples gasped in shock.
What’s going on? What happened?!
His fur stood on end, he roared again and again, baring his fangs—his face twisted and fierce, his eyes blood-red.
Eugene’s cheek twitched suddenly.
“Brother Eugene... Uncle Sun... What should we do?” A Daoist disciple quietly moved to Eugene’s side and asked in a low voice.
Yes, what should we do? What should we do?
Master Sage Subhuti had never given instructions for a situation like this!
Eugene gritted his teeth, gripping his sword tightly, but didn’t know what to do.
So what now? Fight or not? Are we just going to let him walk through the front gate into the Scripture Tower?
Eugene had no answer.
No orders were given.
The Daoist disciples surrounded the Monkey King, weapons in hand, but without orders, whenever he stepped forward, they could only step back.
Just as Eugene was panicking, two dark figures leapt into the air behind the Monkey King. In the moonlight, everyone could see the cold gleam of weapons in their hands!
In the shadows, the Monkey King’s lips curled into a slight smile.
In that instant, everyone clearly saw the smile on the Monkey King’s face—a strange, unsettling smile.
A chilling sensation ran through them.
Before anyone could react, the Monkey King lunged forward, falling to the ground.
The next moment, his body, supported by terrifying strength, sprang backward, and both feet struck the attackers’ abdomens.
Two agonized screams echoed through the night.
The two attackers hadn’t even had time to see the Monkey King’s intentions before they were kicked to the ground.
Struggling, rolling, pushing themselves up.
With their stomachs stomped on, they almost vomited bile.
Every Daoist disciple present was stunned.
The attack was fierce and sharp—completely unpredictable and impossible to guard against. Two Spirit Channeling Stage disciples were defeated in an instant!
"What... what’s going on?" Eugene couldn’t help but grip his sword tighter.
Just moments ago, he’d worried that in stopping the Monkey King from entering the Scripture Tower, he might accidentally hurt him. Now, that worry seemed utterly unnecessary.
If the Monkey King made a move, Eugene probably wouldn’t last two rounds.
"He’s already broken through to the Spirit Channeling Stage." Eugene gave a bitter smile and slowly retreated a step.
Those who can endure extraordinary pain gain extraordinary strength. That’s the difference between the Traveler’s Path and the Sage’s Path. In the end, the way of cultivation is fair.
With a wave of his hand, the encirclement quickly scattered, leaving enough space for both sides to fight.
“No matter what happens, don’t fight Uncle Sun.” Eugene gave a final instruction, quietly retreated, and left. The situation was already out of his control.
The Monkey King leapt up from the ground, turned to face the two, still wearing that strange, twisted smile. His body trembled as if in great pain: “Hehehehe, hahahaha!”
His laughter was mad, almost like crying—no one could tell what he truly felt.
His soul was being torn apart, his mind twisting in agony.
Scarface was clearly frightened, eyes wide as he stared at the Monkey King. One hand clutched his stomach, the other gripped his remaining Three-Bladed Iron Claws, struggling to stand as blood trickled from his lips: “What’s going on... With such strength, even someone at the Spirit Channeling Stage shouldn’t...”
“Watch out—!” cried the one-eyed man nearby.
Before Scarface could react, the Monkey King charged forward, showing no mercy—a hook kick landed on his chin, sending him flying. Blood arced through the air, splattering the Monkey King’s fierce face.
He didn’t even blink.
Everyone could clearly hear the terrifying crack—that was the sound of a broken jaw.
When he fell, Scarface had completely lost consciousness—he hadn’t even had time to use his magical weapon before being utterly defeated!
The one-eyed man, who had just raised his Curved Saber to help, stared in disbelief at the scene before him. His lips twitched, and in a daze, he collapsed to the ground, even dropping his tightly held saber.
He didn’t know how the Monkey King had suddenly become so powerful, but he knew he had no hope of winning.
A foe who could defeat Scarface with a single move was not someone he could contend with.
Just two months ago, though fearful, he could still easily overpower the Monkey King if he was careful.
But now, they had been completely surpassed—the gap was unimaginably wide!
What on earth had happened in these two months?
“Impossible... Impossible...” he muttered as if lost in soul.
......
“Out of the way! I have urgent business with Master Sage Subhuti!”
The doors burst open as Eugene rushed in and knelt before Subhuti.
“Master! Something’s happened!”
At that moment, Subhuti was still calmly carving a black wooden block, unhurried as ever: “I already know.”
His expression was so cold that even disciples who had followed him for nearly a century found it unfamiliar, but his hands never stopped carving.
Eugene hesitated, then bowed his head.