Although the demon host had just clashed with the Buddhas, that was with Monkey present—and truthfully, the Buddhas hadn’t truly fought back. To fight again now... to be honest, the odds looked grim. Hearing the lead Buddha’s hard-edged words, all the demons present froze for a moment.
King Bullhorn’s eye twitched. He quickly turned to look at Louis Quickpaw. Instantly, the two of them glanced together at Marshal Silver.
At this critical juncture, Marshal Silver was still the most dependable, most trustworthy member of the entire party.
At that moment, Marshal Silver, General Curtain, and Prince Adrian the Little White Dragon stood quietly together off to the side, as if separated from the rest of the demons and Tripitaka.
For a moment, every gaze focused on Marshal Silver; all the demons waited for his word.
Even the Buddhas all turned their eyes toward Marshal Silver.
After a brief hesitation, Marshal Silver stepped forward, cupped his hands, and said to the Buddha, "Then we’ll trouble you to take the lead."
"Take the lead?" Louis Quickpaw was momentarily stunned. The Buddhas, however, all nodded with satisfaction.
King Bullhorn strode quickly over to Marshal Silver, lowered his voice, and demanded, "Why did you just..."
"If we fight them, can you win?" Marshal Silver interrupted him without a second thought.
"Uh..."
Louis Quickpaw hurried over as well.
Marshal Silver let out a slow sigh and said, "We might win, but it’s far more likely we’ll lose. The key point is—what’s the benefit of winning? If we lose, the consequences are endless."
As he spoke, Marshal Silver spread his hands, signaling for the two to decide for themselves.
The other demons watched the two from a distance.
Glancing back at his subordinates, who were still waiting for his decision, King Bullhorn asked in a low voice, "So what now? Are we just leaving?"
"If Master Tripitaka falls into their hands, what do we tell the Great Sage when he returns?" Louis Quickpaw said urgently.
"Are they going to kill Master Tripitaka?"
"Uh..."
Louis Quickpaw hesitated, then exchanged a glance with King Bullhorn.
With that, he waved to his subordinates from afar.
Soon, the remaining demons encircling Tripitaka also left—except for Barry Bear.
Suddenly, all the Buddhas’ gazes focused on Barry Bear, as if to see how long he could hold out.
Right then, Barry Bear gritted his teeth, stepped back, dropped to his knees, and kowtowed to Tripitaka: "Disciple Barry Bear begs Master Tripitaka to accept me as your student!"
At this, all the Buddhas were stunned.
Not just the Buddhas—even Tripitaka himself was momentarily bewildered.
From a distance, Louis Quickpaw clicked his tongue in admiration. "Barry Bear, that’s clever. If he becomes Tripitaka’s disciple, he counts as a Buddhist follower—then the Buddhas have no reason to stop him. Well done, well done. This bear deserves promotion!"
Looking at Barry Bear, Tripitaka took a deep breath, stepped forward, and reached out to help him up. "I appreciate your sincerity, but please withdraw with the others. I can finish this journey on my own."
"No!" Barry Bear refused to rise, kowtowing again. "Disciple truly believes Master Tripitaka can walk alone, but I follow you for my own sake! My devotion to Buddha is genuine—please accept me as your student! Whether or not you attain enlightenment, I wish only to accompany you on this journey!"
How many times has Barry Bear begged to become a disciple?
"Thank you, Master!" Barry Bear’s face lit up, and he quickly stepped back, kowtowing deeply again. "Master, you walk the Westward road for all sentient beings, risking life and death—such courage, who in the Three Realms could match it? For that alone, calling you ‘Master’ is no loss! If I can accompany you to the end, even death would leave me content!"
Hearing this, Tripitaka smiled with quiet relief.
Getting up from the ground, Barry Bear quickly reached for Tripitaka’s pack, took it off the monk’s back, and slung it onto his own.
This level of attentiveness even made Tripitaka a bit uncomfortable—but he didn’t refuse.
Once everything was ready, at Tripitaka’s gesture, the two set off slowly under the watchful eyes of the surrounding Buddhas.
In the setting sun, a lone monk and a black bear demon twice his height strode step by step toward Spirit Mountain. Who could have imagined that Tripitaka’s Westward Quest would end up like this?
In the distance, Louis Quickpaw frowned. "How did I never notice Barry Bear was such an actor? That speech almost fooled me."
"How do you know he was lying?" Marshal Silver asked offhandedly.
Louis Quickpaw looked slightly surprised. "He was telling the truth?"
"He was." Marshal Silver nodded. "I can’t speak for others, but what he just said was absolutely sincere."
...
Meanwhile, the battle in the Netherworld raged on.
A shaft of golden light crashed down from the heavens, slamming into the Netherworld’s cityscape and kicking up a storm of dust.
Ghost Messengers and wandering souls scattered in terror.
High above, Damon Six-Ears hovered silently in the sky.
When the dust finally cleared, it looked as if a giant broom had swept a swath out of the entire city.
Amid the rubble, Monkey struggled to his feet, leaning on Iron Sentinel, and looked up at Damon Six-Ears.
By now, there was barely a patch of intact flesh left on his body. Blood mingled with Netherworld dust, forming a gruesome red-brown crust.
In the distance, King Brightcourt glared at the Ghost Messenger who had brought the news, frantically asking, "King Earth-Store isn’t helping us?"
The Ghost Messenger didn’t dare answer—he just shook his head slightly and lowered it.
Helpless, King Brightcourt slapped his own face and muttered, "If that’s the case, we’ll have to save ourselves."
With that, he gathered up his heavy robe and ran toward the two Monkeys, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Great Sage—two Great Sages! Master Tripitaka has already set out!"
At this, both Damon Six-Ears and Monkey froze, turning to stare at the solitary King Brightcourt running toward them.