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

In the chaotic void, a golden sphere of light enveloped the battlefield, which stretched for hundreds of miles.

Zhunti suddenly slammed his right hand, which was holding the Seven Treasures Tree, into the void. When the seven-colored light of the tree exploded in this chaotic void, it did not spread outward, but instead collapsed inward, drawing all the surging chaotic energy in the surrounding space into the depths of the light.

The chaotic energy was compressed, crushed, and reforged between the seven branches at the top of the precious tree, transforming into wave after wave of holy light that pushed towards Yun Zhao.

When the first wave crashed down, Yun Zhao was still able to stand firmly, and the Sea-Stabilizing Pearl spun so fast that it kept the wave three zhang away.

When the second and third layers overlapped, his body leaned back slightly, and a shallow crack appeared in the void beneath his feet.

As the fourth and fifth layers arrived one after another, the beaded curtain began to hum under the strain. Each of the thirty-six beads trembled violently, like a gong being struck repeatedly by heavy hammers, with the humming sound mixed with the cracking sound of metal.

Yun Zhao gritted his teeth and thrust out both palms simultaneously, unleashing a vast torrent of magical power from his body to meet the layers upon layers of holy light.

Although he broke through to the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm, there is still a huge gap between the Hunyuan Golden Immortal realm and the Sage realm.

Just now, he was able to easily deflect Zhunti's attack in the sky above Yingdu City. However, because Zhunti was playing cat and mouse, he did not go all out. But now, in this chaotic void without any scruples, Zhunti has squeezed out all of his saintly cultivation and poured it onto him.

The power of the holy light wave before him was more terrifying than any of the previous attacks. Each wave was a physical entity formed from a complete law of the Great Dao, like an entire world crushing down on him.

No skill or variation was needed; the sheer power of his magical torrent was crushed and pushed back layer by layer by sheer suppression of his realm.

A thin layer of sweat appeared on his forehead, and the bloodstain at the corner of his mouth seeped out a little more.

He was forced to retreat repeatedly, each step leaving a deep dent in the void. The chaotic energy surging from those dents was scorched into billowing white smoke by the golden holy light.

His arms began to go numb. Although the primordial magic power that had just been connected in his meridians was inexhaustible, the speed at which each stream of magic power surged out could not keep up with the speed at which it was being crushed. If this continued, he would be exhausted in at most half an hour.

Zhunti clearly saw this as well.

He flipped his left hand, and another magical artifact appeared in his palm.

It was a golden vajra pestle, over a foot long, covered with dense Sanskrit inscriptions. The vajra head at the top gleamed coldly; it was another of his famous magical treasures, the blessed vajra pestle.

He hurled the pestle at Yun Zhao. The pestle transformed into a golden light in mid-air. The golden light neither dispersed nor concealed, but shot straight toward Yun Zhao's chest. It was so fast that the curtain of the Sea-Stabilizing Pearl did not have time to fully close before it pierced through a small hole, barely grazing Yun Zhao's side and leaving a deep, bone-revealing gash on his ribs.

Yun Zhao groaned, clutching his side with one hand. The edge of the wound was swirling with the lingering aura of holy light, constantly burning and healing the flesh around the wound, tormenting him until the veins on his forehead bulged.

Before he could catch his breath, Zhunti made another hand seal with his right hand, and another magical artifact flew out from his sleeve.

It was a lush green bamboo branch with only six leaves, each shimmering with a clear light—six pure bamboo stalks.

The bamboo branch swayed gently in mid-air, and six beams of clear light flew out from the six leaves. The six beams of clear light did not attack Yun Zhao himself, but instead pierced his six senses.

The eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind were all momentarily sealed off by an overwhelming force.

In that instant, his vision went black, his ears rang, his limbs went weak, and his body swayed slightly in the void.

Seizing this once-in-a-lifetime opening, Zhunti unleashed the full power of the Seven Treasures Tree, sending a seven-colored beam of light, as thick as a dragon's body, piercing through the void and striking him directly in the chest. This sent him flying, his back shattering dozens of layers of void barriers, carving a hundred-mile-long trail of light through the chaos before he finally regained his footing.

When Yun Zhao stood up from the end of the streak of light, his robes were mostly torn, revealing his body covered with golden cracks.

He coughed twice, spitting out a mouthful of blood that shimmered with golden light. When he looked up in the direction of Zhunti, he noticed that Zhunti's figure paused slightly for a moment, and the golden patterns on the back of his right hand, which was holding the Seven Treasures Tree, had spread to his wrist.

The effects of the Fallen Saint Pill are seeping into the foundation of his sainthood at a faster pace than he anticipated.

Yun Zhao's heart stirred, and he straightened his back again.

He merely offered a pale smile: "The Sage's move is indeed formidable, but why do I feel... that your strength was somewhat less than before?"

Zhunti's face was as cold as iron. He looked down at the golden lines spreading on the back of his hand, and for a moment a trace of anxiety, which he himself might not have noticed, surged in his eyes.

He activated his magic power and stepped forward again. The three magical treasures, the Seven Treasures Tree, the Blessing Vajra, and the Six Roots Purification Bamboo, were activated simultaneously, and the overwhelming holy light and Sanskrit text engulfed Yun Zhao.

But this time, Yun Zhao noticed the subtle change.

Zhunti's attack was indeed slightly weaker than before. Although that slight weakness was insignificant, for someone who was being suppressed by a sage with all his might, even a slight opening was enough for him to catch his breath.

He gritted his teeth and withstood three more rounds of attacks.

Each round he was more seriously injured than the last, his robes were torn to shreds with only a few strips of cloth hanging on his body, and golden cracks on his body spread from the surface of his skin all the way to the depths of his bones. The blood seeping from his mouth was almost never dry.

However, the interval between each time he stood up was shorter than the previous one, because Zhunti's breathing was slightly longer after each swing of his magic weapon than the previous one.

The Fallen Saint Pill is taking effect.

The foundation of his saintly realm was loosening inch by inch. Every time Zhunti exerted his full strength, he would create another crack in that foundation. The more cracks there were, the less magical power he could pour in would be.

Yun Zhao could sense that the holy might on Zhunti's body was fading away at a slow but irreversible speed, like the receding waves of the tide. Although it was far from completely gone, its momentum had already changed direction.

Zhunti naturally sensed it as well.

He felt the power gnawing at his foundation accelerating, while the Primordial Golden Immortal in front of him, far inferior to himself, was still standing.

The wound under his ribs was still bleeding, his skin was covered in cracks, and drops of blood were dripping from the corner of his mouth down his chin, but he just stood there.

Each time he was knocked away, he would reappear in front of him, his deep, clear eyes holding something that made Zhunti increasingly agitated, a calmness as if timed perfectly.

If I continue to delay, will I still be his opponent when my strength falls below the level of a saint?

Zhunti estimated the time; in a little over an hour, the Fallen Saint Pill would completely knock him down from his sainthood.

Before that, how long could the person in front of him hold out?

A sense of panic rose in Zhunti's heart. Could it be that this trip would truly result in the loss of Mount Ling and the loss of his holy position?