The Monkey King struggled desperately. But before the invisible, absolute force, no matter how he resisted, he could not break free.
When he was slammed heavily to the ground, dozens of Spirit-Focusing Realm disciples, who had just arrived and did not know the situation, surged forward and surrounded him. In contrast, the two Spirit-Absorption cultivators hesitated and dared not step forward.
Torches were raised high, their flames illuminating the surroundings brightly.
"Hit him! Beat him to death!" someone shouted.
A heavy blow struck his chest, and a mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out. The Monkey King was instantly knocked to the ground, but still stubbornly tried to get up.
A foot stomped down hard on his back, pressing him viciously to the ground. Then came countless kicks, lashes, and foul curses—the disciples vented their anger mercilessly.
But every blow landed only on the Monkey King's body, never reaching his heart.
"Not even worth the waterfall's water! Hahaha!" he thought.
He was weak, yet incomparably strong—no one could defeat him!
The lingering internal injuries from his recent efforts to break through to the Spirit-Absorption Realm had left the Monkey King far from his best condition. Now, nearly exhausted, outnumbered, and with that mysterious force constantly restraining him, he was at his limit.
Even when facing these disciples who were only at the Spirit-Focusing Realm, he could do nothing but take the beating—he couldn't even struggle.
"Who is it?" Anna Yang's gaze searched the darkness, but no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't find the hidden saboteur. She could be certain, however, that the newcomer's power was far beyond her reach.
Just as the disciples were caught up in their assault, several yellow Mystic Charms descended from the sky, exploding above their heads and showering everyone in thick yellow smoke!
In the chaos, the disciples scattered, but they still surrounded the area covered in yellow smoke, wary that the Monkey King might escape.
The two Spirit-Absorption cultivators also stared vigilantly, not missing a single clue.
A gentle breeze blew through, dispersing the yellow smoke.
A delicate face appeared, holding a wooden sword in one hand and a steel whip in the other, her black Daoist robe billowing in the wind.
Her clear, glass-like eyes brimmed with tears, yet she still glared at everyone with determination.
She assumed a fighting stance, completely unlike her usual gentleness, standing protectively before the Monkey King.
"Belle..."
The Monkey King lay on the ground, covered in blood, yet still stubbornly kept his eyes wide open.
Hearing the Monkey King's voice, tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks.
She bit her lip and glared fiercely at those surrounding them, but didn't dare look back at the Monkey King—even a single glance might make her break down.
She pointed her wooden sword at the scar-faced man, then at the one-eyed man, and then at others—so flustered that she didn't know whom to aim at.
Belle cried out, "Stop! Stop right now! All of you, stop!"
"Is that Belle? Did she just use Mystic Charms?"
"How is that possible? When did she reach the Spirit-Absorption Realm? Did she also cultivate the Traveler's Path?"
Some disciples murmured among themselves.
The scar-faced man just clutched his wounded forearm in silence, while the one-eyed man stepped forward and said, "Belle, this has nothing to do with you. Step aside!"
"No!" Belle shouted, spreading her arms wide and using her small body to block the one-eyed man from the Monkey King. She stubbornly glared around, "No one is allowed to hurt him!"
"Step aside..." The Monkey King smiled helplessly. "These two were sent by Danny Crimson—they won't hesitate like the disciples in the monastery."
"No!" Belle cried, turning her face away, biting her lip as tears streamed down like a broken dam—but she didn't retreat even a step.
She was truly afraid—terrified, even, shaking with fear. Everyone in the monastery knew Belle was timid.
But she simply refused to back down—didn't want to, wouldn't allow herself to!
The one-eyed man shook his head helplessly, summoned the curved blade stuck in the nearby rock, and pointed it coldly at Belle. "If you don't move, don't blame me for being ruthless!"
Belle gritted her teeth and swung her steel whip directly at him.
A stream of spiritual energy followed the arc of the steel whip, landing on the grass before the one-eyed man and leaving a faint scratch.
The power was so weak it was almost negligible—yet that was the answer.
"You!" The one-eyed man hesitated.
The two sides stood in a standoff, neither willing to yield.
At that moment, a voice rang out.
"Hehehe, Belle, if you get hurt, I won't be able to explain to our senior brother."
Following the direction of the voice, everyone saw that Danny Crimson had somehow appeared atop a nearby treetop. The branch beneath his toes was no thicker than a finger.
A gentle breeze played with his fiery red sleeves as he stood high above, cold-eyed and aloof, like a god gazing down on all living things.
He reached out, his fingers moving slightly. The five rings on his fingers shimmered with colored light, and a force quickly seized Belle's arms—just like what the Monkey King had faced before. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free.
Belle was lifted into the air and set aside.
"Elder Dante! You can't do this! He's your junior disciple! He's your junior disciple!" Belle cried out.
"Too noisy." With a flick of Danny Crimson's finger, a force quickly covered Belle's mouth, as if someone were holding it shut—leaving only muffled sounds.
Danny Crimson smiled as if suddenly enlightened, addressing everyone: "Hey, don't just stare at me. Get on with what you were doing!"
That smile sent chills down the one-eyed and scar-faced men's spines, and they quickly turned their attention back to the Monkey King.
Yet, the moment he faced the Monkey King directly, he broke out in a cold sweat.
On that blood-stained face was an unbelievable calm—there wasn't even a trace of pain.
He struggled to stand, his body covered in wounds, every movement bringing agony. Yet he stubbornly rose to face the one-eyed and scar-faced men, and all the disciples.
Looking at Belle, the Monkey King gave a gentle smile.
That smile made Belle's heart ache to the extreme.
Why does he keep getting up? Why? If only he would fall, if only he would surrender—maybe then...
Unable to speak, Belle could only stare in terror as the Monkey King struggled forward, his hands and feet flailing helplessly in the air, tears streaming down her face.
Reaching out his left hand toward the scar-faced and one-eyed men, the Monkey King sneered, "Come on! Dare to fight me one-on-one? Or are you scared? Hahaha!"
He glanced around at everyone, laughing madly—a laugh filled with sorrow.
In that moment, the whole world seemed silent, as if only he remained.
Amid that eerie laughter, the two Spirit-Absorption disciples didn't even dare to breathe. They could only watch as the Monkey King laughed—loudly, wildly—until his laughter turned into violent coughing.
They were afraid, but what were they afraid of?
Even they couldn't say for sure.
Even when the Monkey King acted as if he were trying to kill himself, they still didn't dare take a step forward.
"You... If you just beg for mercy, if you surrender, we could..."
"Go to hell!" the Monkey King roared, baring his teeth. His hysterical voice echoed through the mountains.
"If you've got guts, come on! Hahaha! What's with all the talk? Come on! Beat me to death!"
In the cold autumn night, his rapid breaths turned to faint mist before his eyes.
Blood loss, wounds, depleted spiritual energy—old injuries and new illnesses. What stood before them was a fragile shell held together by sheer willpower.
Yet, even so, the encirclement that should have tightened instead widened, as everyone instinctively stepped back.
Fear had already spread.
Hidden in the grass, Anna Yang opened her mouth, unsure what to say. She couldn't find a word to describe the Monkey King before her.
What kind of stubbornness, what kind of obsession, could support such a body?
In the past, she thought her brother was the strongest in the world—holding up the army that defied the heavens all by himself. But this Monkey King...
A bitter feeling welled up in Anna Yang's heart.
In a daze, she seemed to see, a thousand years ago in the Golden Mist Cave, a boy wiping away tears, covered in wounds but unwilling to give up—clearly weak, yet no one stronger than him.
"Why does he keep getting up? So foolish, these people, so foolish. Hahaha." She laughed, tears sparkling in her eyes.