Under the starlit night, in the quarry, a crowd of monks sat cross-legged around Tripitaka.
Marshal Silver stood beside Tripitaka, listening to him gently console the monks. The others, except for Prince Adrian who was tending to Jack Rivers, were patrolling the perimeter, guarding against the quarry's garrison.
The night wind blew softly, stirring up sand and gravel that rippled outward like waves beneath their feet.
The quarry guards had already been forced to the edge of the fence, each gripping their weapons and watching Barry Bear and General Curtain warily.
A soldier quietly approached the bearded general and whispered, "General, are we just going to wait here? There are only a few of them, so why not..."
"Nonsense!" the bearded general cursed in a low voice. "They drove off an entire guard squad at the market in just a few moves today. Are you trying to get me killed faster?"
"Then what should we..."
"Do nothing! Since the National Preceptor ordered us to hold position, we hold position!"
"Yes, sir!"
Meanwhile, outside the fence dozens of zhang away, a large force of troops had already assembled in silence.
Taking advantage of the darkness, they spread out swiftly like a flow of black water, forming shield walls and drawing their heavy bows.
A soldier hurried in through the main gate that Monkey had knocked down, squeezing past the dense line of guards by the fence to reach the bearded general.
"General, the main army has arrived."
Glancing at the newcomer, the bearded general asked in a low voice, "I heard. What does the National Preceptor say?"
"The National Preceptor orders the general to withdraw outside the quarry."
Upon hearing this, the bearded general waved his hand. The soldiers began to move in an orderly fashion toward the main gate.
Inside the quarry, the monks watched in surprise, each one holding their breath.
"What's going on? They're all leaving?"
"Are they letting us go?"
Marshal Silver watched the withdrawing guard units, then turned to General Curtain and said quietly, "They're going to loose the arrows."
"No way," General Curtain whispered. "Even if they really want to kill, it should only be us—not all the monks. Surely they wouldn't want every monk to die with us."
"Hard to say." Marshal Silver snorted. "I still think Cartwright Kingdom is much stranger than it looks. Logically, after the commotion we caused in the marketplace today, they should either try to recruit us or crack down hard... Even if a crackdown is unlikely, at the very least, they ought to send someone to negotiate, try to win us over. But up to now, have you seen any envoy sent by the king?"
General Curtain's expression grew subtly grim.
There are nearly two thousand monks doing corvée labor here. If the enemy looses their arrows, persuading Tripitaka to abandon them and run is out of the question. But if he refuses to leave them behind... just how big a shield would it take to protect them all?
Looking back, there were a few places to hide inside and outside the quarry, but nowhere near enough to shelter two thousand people.
"Maybe... capture the king first?"
"No." Marshal Silver squinted. "Wait a bit longer; let's see how things unfold."
...
"Report!" A soldier dashed up to Many-Eyes the Centipede, clasped his hands and said, "National Preceptor, the monks have started bunching inward."
"Bunching inward?" Many-Eyes froze for a moment, his hand stroking his long beard suspended in midair.
"Exactly." The soldier looked up slightly. "They're clustering toward the quarry's interior, apparently trying to avoid the arrow rain."
"They didn't attack?" Many-Eyes stroked his beard, lost in thought.
The three Daoists beside him exchanged glances.
"Sir," said the Daoist in orange robes, bowing. "Why not just loose the arrows? As soon as we fire, even if only a few monks die, it'll force the rest out!"
Many-Eyes slowly shook his head, muttering, "They're not attacking... Have they already realized something?"
...
Netherworld.
Monkey paced back and forth before the Hall of Life and Death, leaning on his Golden Staff.
In the iron basin beside him, flames crackled and hissed. On either side, ghost soldiers stood motionless, while clusters of ghost-fire howled overhead.
Looking back, the endless expanse of the Underworld resembled a bustling night market from afar, but only up close did its sinister terror become clear.