Journey to the West: Please Call Me the White Bone Demon

It was like a casual strike, yet the magical power it unleashed was incredibly profound.

A transparent, almost invisible ripple spread out from his palm.

Wherever the ripples passed, the destructive aura carried by the beam of light seemed to have its skeleton crushed from the inside by an invisible hand.

The golden Buddha phantom in the pillar of light let out a silent roar the moment it touched the ripples. One by one, the Sanskrit characters shattered and disintegrated, and the seven-colored light peeled away layer by layer, like a colorful mural washed by rain, from brilliant to dim and then completely dissipated. The whole process took only a moment.

The seven-colored pillar of light, powerful enough to crush the combined strength of six quasi-saints, silently dissipated into countless scattered fragments of light under Yun Zhao's palm strike. These fragments drifted down over Yingdu City, sprinkling onto rooftops and streets like harmless fireflies.

Dazzling and beautiful, it is a rare sight in the world if one ignores the crisis at this moment.

Zhunti's hand, holding the Seven Treasures Tree, remained suspended in mid-air, a clear tremor flashing across his blue eyes.

For the first time, his expression changed. His gaze swept over the dense golden cracks on the gray robe, the bloodstains at the corner of the mouth that had not yet dried, and the layer of chaotic spiritual light around the body, before finally settling on Yun Zhao.

His fingers tightened slightly around the precious tree, and his voice took on an uncertain tone: "You've become a saint?"

After he finished speaking, he shook his head to himself, his brows furrowing: "No...that's not right."

"You lack the Daoist aura and the imposing presence of a sage, yet the power of your palm strike just now far surpasses that of a peak Quasi-Sage. What realm are you at?"

A rare hint of seriousness crept into his tone.

The sage's vision allowed him to see the difference between Yun Zhao and a normal quasi-sage at a glance. However, the difference was something he had never seen before, like a side path that he had never taken before suddenly appearing in a system that he thought had exhausted all paths.

Yun Zhao did not answer him immediately.

He first looked down at his wounded comrades below.

Shen Gongbao lay on his back on a collapsed roof, his chest heaving violently, blood still seeping from his mouth and nose, with fragments of the shattered array plate scattered around him.

Lu Ya, supporting himself with the gourd, knelt on one knee behind a section of broken wall, his face as pale as paper, barely breathing.

Guanyin leaned against a half-collapsed stone pillar, her plain white robe stained with blood, and her jade bottle lying askew at her feet.

Manjushri and Samantabhadra sat side by side on the ground, back to back, both with their eyes closed, regulating their breathing. Their auras were so faint that they were almost imperceptible.

The Buddha stood behind the ruins of that golden barrier, his hands still in the mudra, but the trembling in his hands spread from his knuckles all the way to his shoulder blades.

After examining the injuries on those people, Yun Zhao raised his hand and swept it downwards. A soft blue light descended from his palm, like a long blue river falling from the sky, enveloping all six people at the same time.

The blue light carried a warm and abundant power, like a thawing stream in spring seeping into cracked soil. Wherever it passed, the bleeding wounds healed at a visible speed, the broken meridians reconnected, and the depleted magic power was replenished layer by layer.

Guanyin's face slowly regained its color from deathly pale. When she opened her eyes, she looked down at her hands, where most of the wounds had disappeared.

Manjushri let out a long breath, and the crack at the base of his thumb closed up, leaving only a few shallow marks.

Samantabhadra's golden body, which had dimmed to the point of almost going out, began to glow faintly again.

Lu Ya touched the crack on the gourd shell and found that although the crack had not completely disappeared, it had stopped spreading.

Most of the injuries on everyone were healed in an instant.

Yun Zhao withdrew the azure light and slowly descended from the sky, landing on the ground in front of the six people.

He shielded them behind him: "Leave the rest to me."

Upon hearing this, Lu Ya grinned and said, "Uncle, you've really become a saint?"

Yun Zhao shook his head and said, "Not yet, I'm only a Hunyuan Golden Immortal right now."

Zhunti looked down at everything from high above.

He slightly twirled the Seven Treasures Tree in his hand, a strange light flashing in his eyes: "Primordial Golden Immortal? I've never heard of this realm before. Is there another path below the Saint?"

There are many things you haven't heard of.

Zhunti sneered, "So what? As long as you don't become a saint, you're just a slightly larger ant."

Yun Zhao replied calmly, "I am not a saint, and in terms of realm, I am indeed a whole level below you."

"Although I am no match for you, a saint, so what? I just need to stall until the Fallen Saint Pill takes effect."

Zhunti's expression darkened completely.

He glanced down at his right hand, where a faint, fine golden line was slowly spreading beneath his skin.

The traces of the Fallen Saint Pill have begun to seep into the foundation of his Sainthood. Although they are still very faint, they are no longer imperceptible.

He looked up at the sky again. More than half an hour had passed since he stepped into the prehistoric world.

He quickly estimated in his mind that he still had enough time to do many things, but not enough time for him to do them at his own pace.

He stopped talking.

The Seven Treasures Tree rose again in his palm, and the seven-colored light condensed into a beam of light that was almost tangible. The light was no longer sweeping across the sky, but compressed, tightened, and pressed into an extremely sharp beam of light, which shot towards Yun Zhao's brow.

This strike was sharper than any of the previous blows. Zhunti no longer held back; he poured the power of a saint into this attack without reservation. The seven branches at the top of the Seven Treasures Tree shone brightly at the same time, drawing away all the spiritual energy of heaven and earth within a thousand miles.

Yun Zhao raised his hand, and thirty-six Sea-Stabilizing Pearls flew out from his palm, forming a rotating pearl curtain in front of him.

This time, the illusory images of heaven and earth on those beads did not shatter. They overlapped and nested with each other, sandwiching the extremely sharp seven-colored beam of light in the middle and slowly wearing it down.

The beam of light pierced through the first layer of the illusory world, and then collided with the second, third, and fourth layers. However, with each layer it broke through, its sharpness was diminished. By the time it passed through the sixteenth layer of the illusory world, it had become sluggish and dim. It was bounced back in front of the seventeenth layer of the illusory world and turned into a scattered mist of light.

Zhunti's pupils contracted slightly.

Just half an hour ago, the person in front of him had to exert all his strength to catch a finger, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, and he had to kneel on one knee.

At that moment, he stood still, without moving a single step, and neutralized the attack that he had poured all his strength into.

He tightened his grip on the Seven Treasures Tree slightly, a subtle feeling of not being able to grasp the whole situation that he hadn't felt in a long time.