Journey to the West: A clone sacrifices to the heavens, possessing boundless magical power.

The giant was twelve feet tall, with a face as black as charcoal, wide-open eyes, and a steel beard like needles under his chin. He wore a suit of black gold armor, which gleamed coldly in the firelight. He did not hold any weapons, but his large, fan-like hands exuded a ferocious power capable of tearing apart tigers and leopards.

Lord of Black Wind Mountain, the Black Bear Spirit!

This is the true Demon King of Journey to the West.

Unlike those lesser demons who rule the mountains, this black bear spirit exudes a strange aura that perfectly blends a pure and enlightened spirit with a primal, wild killing intent.

He was not the kind of beast who only knew how to eat raw meat and drink blood, but a peerless demon who had cultivated orthodox Taoist methods and was only one step away from becoming an immortal.

Fan Yuan's clone was frozen in place, unable to move.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move, but the demon king's aura that he unintentionally exuded locked down the space within a hundred feet in a tangible way. Under this aura, the souls of mortals were like candle flames in a storm, which could be extinguished at any moment.

"These bald monks are so noisy! How dare they set fire to my house right in front of me!"

The black bear spirit cursed in a muffled voice. He had come to put out the fire because he saw flames shooting into the sky and remembered his friendship with Elder Jinchi.

He casually flicked his sleeve.

boom!

A black wind suddenly rose from the ground.

The dozen or so monks in the courtyard, who were carrying buckets of water and standing there dumbfounded, didn't even have time to scream before they were swept up by the black wind like withered leaves and slammed hard against the surrounding courtyard walls.

"Bang bang bang!"

The sounds of bones breaking and tendons snapping were clearly audible. Those monks who usually boasted of their martial arts prowess were no more than ants in front of this demon king.

After clearing away the miscellaneous fish, the Black Bear Spirit strode towards the abbot's room.

"Huh? Where's that old bald monk?"

Immediately afterwards, the black bear spirit seemed to sense something and rushed straight to the hidden door in the inner room.

"boom!"

With a loud bang, the sturdy hidden door was violently blasted apart.

"Good treasure! Good robe! It's mine now, Old Black's! Hahaha!"

Just then, Fan Yuan's clone, hiding in the shadows of a corner, twitched involuntarily because it couldn't withstand the impact of the demonic energy so close at hand.

"Um?"

The black bear spirit turned its head sharply, and two beams of cold, lightning-like gaze pierced through the darkness and landed on Fan Yuan's clone.

In that instant, Fan Yuan's body in the cellar felt a buzzing in his mind, as if his soul had been struck hard by a sledgehammer.

That was an absolute perspective from the level of life itself.

The black bear spirit looked at the charred and dying refugee with a hint of disdain in his eyes.

"What kind of insect is this, daring to spy on me, the Great King?"

He didn't even bother to lift a finger; he simply exhaled a puff of white breath from his nostrils.

puff!

The white mist shot out like a sharp arrow, instantly piercing the chest of the refugee's clone.

The screen went black instantly.

The black bear demon grabbed the cassock, completely ignoring the hidden compartment under the floor. He conjured a gust of wind and soared into the sky, flying straight towards the Black Wind Cave in the southeast.

"I'm gone..." Fan Yuan, in his true form, gasped for breath in the cellar.

"With the cassock stolen, Sun Wukong will surely pursue him to Black Wind Mountain. Elder Jinchi's fate is unknown, and the monks of the Zen Monastery have suffered heavy casualties."

"This Guanyin Temple is now an abandoned ruin."

"And my spirit stones and pills lie quietly under that bluestone slab, waiting for me to retrieve them."

Fan Yuan closed his eyes. Although he lost a clone in tonight's game, he did not gain nothing.

At the same time, he also deeply realized that this is the real world of Journey to the West, where the strong fight for the destiny of heaven and earth, and the weak struggle to survive in the cracks, risking their lives for that one in ten thousand chance of immortality.

……

As dawn broke, sunlight pierced through the thin mist and shone at the foot of the mountain.

A fire that lasted for a century reduced this renowned Guanyin Temple to ashes.

Only the three meditation halls in the center of the front courtyard stood alone amidst the ruins, completely unharmed, with not even a trace of blackening on the window paper.

Behind the hill, behind a collapsed earthen slope.

A hand covered in mud and grime ripped away the camouflage covering the cellar entrance.

Fan Yuan crawled out of the hole in a very disheveled state. His coarse linen clothes had been deliberately torn to shreds, his face and hands were covered in soot, and his hair was disheveled. He looked exactly like a Taoist priest who had just escaped from a fire.

With his back hunched and his eyes feigning fear and confusion, he stumbled and shuffled towards the front yard among a group of equally disheveled and wailing surviving servants.

Although he appeared flustered, Fan Yuan remained calm and composed inside.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced past the monks scavenging for scraps in the ruins and locked his gaze on the location of the abbot's room.

Now, all that remains is a huge pit, scorched earth everywhere. Last night, the black bear demon's demonic wind was too fierce; it not only swept away the cassock but also blew away the broken beams and pillars of the abbot's room.

"Such a clean scene."

Fan Yuan thought to himself, "After the Black Bear Spirit left last night, Sun Wukong blew another breath as punishment, and the fire completely engulfed the abbot's room."

"My robe! My robe!"

A heart-wrenching wail shattered the deathly silence of the early morning.

Amidst the ruins, an old monk draped in tattered robes was digging through the rubble like a mad dog.

It was Elder Jinchi.

This 270-year-old monk, who usually lived a life of luxury and needed assistance to go out, suddenly unleashed astonishing strength.

His hands were scalded and bloodied by the burning rubble, but he was oblivious, digging and screaming desperately.

"No...no...it's nowhere!"

Elder Jinchi suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot and his face covered in black ash. His once rosy face was now twisted like a demon.

The monks around them, including Guangmou and Guangzhi, were all dejected, kneeling on the ground trembling. They had not only lost their place to live, but also the prestige they used to rely on.

Just then, the doors of the three surviving meditation halls creaked open.

Tang Sanzang straightened his clothes and walked out calmly. Seeing the devastation before him, he was shocked: "What...what happened? How could the monastery have become like this overnight?"

Behind him, Sun Wukong, carrying his golden cudgel, jumped out with a grin, his face full of schadenfreude.

"Hehe, Master, you slept so soundly! Those monks went to great lengths last night; they burned all their vast wealth just to keep us warm!"

Upon hearing the sound, Elder Jinchi turned around abruptly.

He stared intently at Tang Sanzang, then at Sun Wukong, his eyes a mixture of fear and greed that ultimately transformed into a hysterical frenzy.

"It's you! It's all of you!"

Elder Jinchi staggered over, pointing at Sun Wukong and roaring, "You set the fire! You burned down my monastery! You owe me! You owe me my robe! You owe me my estate!"

"Pah! You old skinflint!"

Sun Wukong's face darkened, and he bared his fangs. A fierce aura erupted instantly, scaring Elder Jinchi so much that he stumbled back several steps and fell to the ground with a thud.

"I haven't even settled accounts with you yet, and you're already biting me! Who was it that gathered all the monks last night to move firewood and straw, intending to burn my master and me alive? If it weren't for my abilities protecting my master, we would all be a pile of charred remains by now! You old thief, your heart is truly vicious!"

Sun Wukong stepped forward and slammed his golden cudgel heavily on the ground, causing the ground to tremble.

"Tell me! Where is my master's brocade cassock? If you don't hand it over, I, Old Sun, will smash your bald head into your chest with this stick!"

This roar, imbued with the aura of a Taiyi Golden Immortal, exploded like a thunderclap in Elder Jinchi's ears.

Elder Jinchi trembled violently, his face turning deathly pale.

The cassock... is gone.

He had clearly hidden in the secret chamber with the cassock last night, but when the black wind came, he was knocked unconscious. When he woke up, the secret chamber was destroyed and the cassock had disappeared.

"I...I don't know..." Elder Jinchi trembled, his eyes darting around. "He must have been burned...burned..."

"fart!"

Sun Wukong sneered, his fiery eyes flashing with golden light as he scanned the entire area. "That cassock is a Buddhist treasure, impervious to water and fire. How could it be destroyed by mortal fire? You old thief must have hidden it! Hand it over now!"

With that, he brandished his iron rod, pointing it at the kneeling monks Guangmou and Guangzhi beside him: "Tell me! Where is the robe? If you dare utter even the slightest lie, I, Old Sun, will send you all to the Western Paradise to see Buddha!"

Guangmou was already terrified. Now that his life was in danger, he no longer cared about any past relationship with his master. He kowtowed repeatedly, pointing at Elder Jinchi and shouting:

"Great Sage, spare us! Great Sage, spare us! It was all Master's idea! He coveted the treasure and ordered us to set the house on fire! Last night, I saw with my own eyes that Master carried the cassock back to the abbot's room and hasn't come out since! The cassock must still be on him!"

"Yes, yes, yes! It was all instigated by our master!" Guangzhi cried out as well, "We were just following orders!"

The monks all switched sides, completely absolving themselves of any responsibility.

As Elder Jinchi listened to the accusations made by his disciples and grand-disciples, he felt dizzy and disoriented.

Betrayed by everyone, his family business destroyed, and now even the robe that haunted his dreams, which he even went so far as to kill and rob, is gone.

He lived to be 270 years old, relying on sorcery to prolong his life and accumulating wealth through plunder, considering himself the overlord of Black Wind Mountain. But now, in front of a great supernatural being, all his schemes have become a joke.

"It's all gone... everything's gone..."

Elder Jinchi muttered to himself, his gaze vacant.

Sun Wukong, growing impatient, brandished his golden cudgel, creating a gust of wind as he approached Elder Jinchi's face: "Old thief! Still playing dumb? Hand over the cassock now! Otherwise, I, Old Sun, will make you wish you were dead!"

The iron rod, stained with the blood of countless demons, was only inches away from Elder Jinchi's nose. The terrifying killing intent emanating from the rod completely shattered the old monk's last psychological defense.

An overwhelming sense of fear engulfed him.

He knew he couldn't hand over the robe; if he couldn't, that ferocious monkey would surely tear him to pieces.

Moreover, even if he escaped this calamity, but lost the Zen temple, lost his connection with the black bear spirit, and lost those longevity-prolonging elixirs, his already decaying body wouldn't last more than a few days.

"I am... a highly virtuous monk... I cannot... cannot endure this insult..."

Elder Jinchi suddenly let out a strange, extremely mournful laugh, and his turbid old tears streamed down his face.

"Enough! Enough! Enough!"

He suddenly scrambled to his feet and, with the last of his strength, slammed himself against the half-collapsed wall behind him!

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Blood splattered, and brain matter ruptured.

This old monk, who lived to be 270 years old and enjoyed all the riches of the world, fell into demonic possession due to a moment of greed. He lay there stiffly in the ruins and died.

His body was still twitching slightly, but his eyes remained wide open, as if he were still searching for the brocade cassock that did not belong to him.