Yang Jian, transformed into the Boundary-Suppressing Monument, spanned the nine heavens. Upon it, the golden Dao Patterns of the Eight-Nine Profound Art flowed slowly, radiating an eternal power that suppressed the heavens and smoothed out the chaos. The rifts in the Primordial World’s firmament were forcefully sealed, and the raging torrents of chaos were curbed. Yet, in the world that had survived the cataclysm, what filled the air was not relief, but a deathly silence and a grief that reached into the very marrow of one’s bones.
Nezha cradled the dying Xiaotian Hound, whose tears had not yet dried. The snow-white hound curled in his arms, its fur stained with the filth of Guixu and its own blood. A dim silver luster flickered weakly beneath its coat, and those eyes, once so spirited and loyal, now gazed vacantly at the giant monument hanging high above, large tears mixed with blood rolling silently down. Beneath Nezha’s feet, the Wind and Fire Wheels burned with a dull, dark-red flame, resembling congealed scabs of blood. He bit his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood; his face was deathly pale, and all his rage and screams were choked back into his chest by an overwhelming sorrow.
Sun Wukong stood nearby, his golden eyes fixed intently on the Boundary-Suppressing Monument. The chaos-light within the Heavenly Book of Dao-Slaying in his hand flickered, as if sensing the volcanic, suppressed fury surging in its master’s heart. The Somersault Cloud beneath his fe…
Chapter 492