Journey to the West: The Immortal Clan Begins by Feeding Monkeys at Five Elements Mountain

Chapter 145 The Demons Retreat, the Dust Settles
The black light floated in mid-air, faint and ethereal, seemingly without wind or fire, yet it carried a chillingly vicious aura.

As soon as Ao Yu's white rainbow streaked in, it seemed to have hit an invisible wall, and its momentum suddenly stopped.

Before the dragon's roar had even faded, the last syllable still lingering in his throat, he was abruptly choked up, his chest jolted, and only a very soft groan remained.

The blazing dragon scales on her body, which had been reflecting the sunlight, were almost dazzling.

But as soon as one steps into this realm shrouded in black light, it is as if hot wax meets ice; the light is extinguished inch by inch, and the chill seeps into one's bones.

Tiny scales detached from the body and fell, swirling leisurely in the air before quietly turning into ashes before hitting the ground.

That graceful, dragon-like figure gradually lost momentum, like a butterfly's wings wet with rain, bound by layers of invisible threads, struggling tighter and tighter, moving heavier and heavier.

Even struggling seemed to become a burden.

Just then, Jiang Feng arrived.

His eyes showed no surprise, no fear, and no extra expression; even that moment of hesitation seemed to have never occurred.

Before the thought could fully form, the body had already taken a step forward.

With one step, one enters the shadowy realm.

He raised his hand and pulled the fading figure into his arms.

The movements were extremely light, yet the embrace was incredibly tight, as if the person in the arms would truly turn into smoke and vanish if the embrace were to loosen even slightly.

The chill descended silently, seeping into my skin like countless damp, cold fingers deftly parting my clothes and caressing my bones.

The black light was like a living thing, harmless but viciously sinister, as if it wanted to extract the last bit of soul from a person's bones, crush it, and then swallow it down.

Jiang Feng's lips twitched, and he began chanting an incantation, attempting to invoke the power of the Celestial Master's decree.

But the righteous spirit that always appeared at a moment's notice was now completely swallowed up by this darkness, like a stone sinking into the sea.

Not even a reply was left.

His heart sank slightly, and his thoughts raced like a tide as he tried again.

Still, there was silence.

All laws, responding to the command, were like withered branches brushed by the wind before this shadow, not even a single leaf shaken.

He lowered his eyes and looked down.

The body in his arms was growing colder and colder, as if he were holding half a piece of sinking wood.

That pride and that Daoist heart seemed to have been pulled into an abyss, sinking without a trace.

Outside the cave, everyone watched this scene with wide eyes, their expressions already changed.

Senior Brother Zhou clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned deathly white from the force.

Although the longsword was in his hand, its blade trembled uncontrollably, as if he had lost his aim for the strike.

The others fared even worse. Their hands and feet were ice-cold, their faces ashen, and they looked as if their souls had been drained from them; they could barely stand.

The confidence he had just gained from "having the imperial edict" had long been shattered by this silent oppression, leaving him unable to even tremble.

The jade ruyi in Uncle Lingwei's sleeve, which was originally warm and gentle like spring, had lost its luster and was as dull as dead as ashes.

She stared at the black light, her eyes gradually losing their sparkle, eventually settling into a quiet despair.

In the dead silence, the ghostly light had silently spread to Jiang Feng's waist.

Just as he was about to stick it on, he suddenly stopped the moment he touched the bronze pendant.

That small pendant, with its extremely simple design and dark color, was nothing special, yet at this moment, it seemed as heavy as a mountain and as imprisoned as a prison.

Its original overwhelming power was abruptly shattered here.

The black light surged and undulated, sometimes receding and sometimes exploding, as if in surprise, doubt, and apprehension.

It circled the small bronze pendant back and forth, sometimes near, sometimes far, as if it were examining it closely, or perhaps trying to identify and weigh it.

That stalemate lasted only a moment.

Suddenly, the black light paused, as if it had made a decision.

The next instant, it suddenly swirled, drawing back all the bone-chilling cold.

The tide receded and the sand lay flat, leaving not a trace.

Immediately, the dark light seemed unwilling to touch it any longer, and with a gentle flick, it threw the two of them, along with the bead that still retained some blood, back outside the cave on the cliff.

The action was as if he had casually tossed away a hot potato.

The ball of black light was thrown away immediately, without a sound or afterimage, and suddenly condensed into a thin line before disappearing into the sky.

It was as if they had never appeared, leaving only a chilly room and people on the floor who dared not breathe.

"Quick! Catch it!"

Uncle-Master Chongxu's shout was like thunder, startling everyone awake.

The disciples below finally came to their senses and hastily attacked, unleashing a flurry of talismanic light, sword shadows, and sleeve gusts of wind, managing to stabilize themselves amidst the chaos.

Finally, before the man, the dragon, and the drop of blood hit the ground, they managed to catch them steadily.

Jiang Feng had already fainted, but the person in his arms was still cold, yet he held him tightly, his knuckles clenched until they were white.

It was as if their very souls were intertwined, and no one could separate them.

Silence returned to Black Wind Cliff.

The sea breeze continued to blow gently, but the faint, fishy smell and low murmur had quietly dissipated.

In a daze, it seemed as if the strange and shocking events just now were nothing but an old dream, and when I woke up, all that remained was a chill in my sleeves.

Chongxu and Lingwei stood side by side at the cave entrance, both silent for a moment.

The wind rustles through my robes, its silence speaking volumes.

The two exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with barely suppressed gloom.

After a long while, he looked up at the sky.

The sky was high and clear, the blue waves were calm, and the clear weather almost made one doubt.

The black line that had just devoured the heavens and souls was now completely gone, as if it were just a demon that had quietly passed through everyone's hearts and vanished in an instant.

But that unspeakable horror, like a needle falling to the bottom of water, sank into my eyes and into my heart; the more I tried to keep it to myself, the harder it became to suppress.

The wind still blows, and the sky remains blue, but something seems to be hidden in this stillness, something indescribable and tangled.

……

At that time, deep in the Western Sea.

The fleeing black light had circled the sky once, found an inconspicuous patch of water, paused gently, and then quietly sank into it.

The water rippled slightly, without making a ripple, as if it were just a fleeting shadow of a flying fish.

Beneath the sea lies a dark and gloomy realm.

Black corals grow in abundance, intertwined and crisscrossed, their fluorescence like mist, floating erratically.

A throne, cast with dragon bones and spiraling like a snail, can be vaguely seen in the middle, standing quietly and silently.

On the throne sat a demon.

Its body was covered in black scales, its dragon horns were bristling like blades, its muscles and bones were twisted and knotted, and its shape resembled towering mountains. Its pair of vertical pupils were deep and dark, as if they could devour light and erode souls.

The moment that gaze moved, the water froze, and all the ghosts vanished.

The surrounding demons cowered, heads bowed and breathless, lest they offend this malevolent star.

The wisp of black light that had just fled has now quietly returned, coiling around the demon's body and transforming into thick demonic mist, swirling endlessly beneath its seat, like lingering anger or unresolved worries.

The demon leaned against the dragon bone throne, its face ashen and its eyelids half-closed, seemingly asleep but not quite.

However, the surging demonic energy behind him showed that the storm in his heart was not yet over.

Suddenly, a phantom emerged from the depths of the sea fog.

It was a monster that looked like an old dragon, with most of its scales gone, graying temples, and a slightly hunched back, yet it still had a smiling face.

“Great Sage,” he said in a low voice, his tone tinged with anxiety, “that bead…”

Before the words were finished, the dragon demon on the throne twitched his brow, a flash of killing intent crossing his eyes, and coldly interrupted:
"Didn't you say that the old Dragon King, out of concern for his son's life, would never dare to expose this matter to the heavens?"

The old dragon's expression stiffened for a moment, then he forced a smile and bent his back even lower, almost touching the sand. "That's how it is. The Dinghai Pearl was destroyed by his third son. Now he's pretending to be deaf and dumb, but that's just because he's protective of his own son. He's afraid that if the Jade Emperor finds out, he'll lose his son along with him."

Having said that, he smiled even more ingratiatingly, and his tone shifted, becoming lighter and more cheerful:

“Great Sage, you have seen it too. How many aquatic creatures have died in the Western Sea these days? Not even a splash has been made. His Dragon Palace now only dares to shrink back like a turtle, not daring to utter a single fart.”

Upon hearing this, the dragon demon's two whiskers on its cheeks suddenly stood up like knives, emanating a chill.

"Then tell me..."

His tone remained cold, each word as clear as if it were being clenched between fangs:

"What's wrong with those Taoist priests from the Celestial Master's Mansion? Why are they so idle? They've come all this way to the Western Sea to meddle in such trivial matters?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the water pressure quietly rose. The black tide remained undisturbed, but the undercurrent had already struck his heart.

"The Celestial Master's Mansion?"

Old Dragon was slightly taken aback upon hearing this, then, as if some old tendon had suddenly tied a knot and then loosened, his eyes lit up, and he chuckled.

"It must have been that old mudfish who put in a good word for me in private."

He spoke with certainty, his temples trembling slightly:
“Back when Zhang Tianshi was not yet enlightened, he owed the West Sea a favor. Now that this debt of gratitude has come knocking, the Tianshi Mansion naturally has to give him face.”

As he spoke, he lowered his neck even further, his beard trembling slightly, and his tone became more resolute, as if he had made up his mind.

“Great Sage, think about it. Since it was done out of personal favor, it means this matter is not something that can be discussed openly. As long as the Celestial Master’s Mansion doesn’t make this public, with your extraordinary magical powers, Great Sage, are you afraid he won’t wait?”

At this point, his shoulders were shaking with laughter, as if he had planned everything perfectly.

But the dragon demon only snorted coldly, and the cold current in that area of ​​water suddenly changed, the cold sea creatures on the seabed quietly disappeared, and even the light dimmed by three points.

"The Dragon Palace and the Celestial Master's Mansion will probably keep quiet."

He slowly opened his eyes, his vertical pupils like knives, a sinister light flickering within them, and he spoke in a low, menacing voice:

"But what if... there are Buddhist spies hiding in the Heavenly Master's Mansion?"

His voice was calm and unhurried, yet each word was as heavy as a rock, making the old dragon's heart skip a beat.

“Those bald guys are always good at hiding their true intentions and they have a long reach. Who knows, they might even have dug their way into the bottom of the Celestial Master’s Mansion.”

He paused, a half-smile playing on his lips.

But even before the smile reached his lips, it sent chills down one's spine.

"And how can you guarantee that they won't report this to the highest authorities?"

The smile on Lao Long's face froze for a moment, like dead skin drying on his cheeks. His lips twitched, and he couldn't quite catch what was going on.

"Great Sage... what makes you say that?"

He maintained a calm demeanor, but his voice trembled slightly at the end, without him even noticing.

The dragon demon did not reply immediately, but stared quietly at the sea, its gaze deep and unfathomable, as if it could see through the towering waves and reach the very root of cause and effect.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice slow and cold, each word deliberate and deliberate, like a hammer striking a drum:
“I sensed a certain aura from the younger generation of the Heavenly Master’s Mansion.”

As he spoke, his eyes showed no murderous intent, yet he exuded a chilling aura that sent shivers down one's spine.

“We know each other very well.” He smiled faintly, his tone gentle, yet with a strange undertone. “But... I shouldn’t have been there.”

Having said that, she lowered her head slightly, slowly bringing up the words that had been weighing on her heart:

"It's the scent of that monkey from Flower Fruit Mountain."

The words landed like thunder rolling across an abyss, heavy and dull, making Old Dragon's eyelids twitch.

"and,"

The Demon King's voice was extremely low, almost as if he were talking to himself, yet the surface of the water seemed to quiet down inch by inch in sync with his tone:

"It's not a lingering old smell, but a mark that has only been left in recent years."

Upon hearing this, the old dragon's face turned pale instantly, his back stiffened, and a chill ran from his tailbone straight to the back of his head, causing even the scales on his temples to tremble.

"How...how could this be?!" His lips trembled, his voice weak and shaky, as if he had just been pulled out of ice water. "That rascal hadn't already..."

"good."

The Flood Dragon Demon King replied coldly, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, like a cold star leaping in the depths of the night:

"He was personally subdued by the one from the Western Paradise, who also summoned his trusted confidants to keep a close watch on him."

His tone suddenly turned serious, as if a gust of wind had been lurking in his words, unexpectedly piercing Old Dragon's heart:
"The aura on that young Taoist priest was not accidental. The fact that he could be touched by that monkey's new aura most likely means... that he has some kinship or connection with the guardian of the Western Paradise."

At this point, his eyes narrowed slightly, his lips didn't curl into a sneer, but his tone grew increasingly cold:
"Such a person, instead of listening to scriptures and receiving offerings at Mount Ling, comes to the Celestial Master's Mansion to study Taoism, and can't even get a proper Taoist title... Tell me, what else could he be but a spy for Buddhism?"

Having said that, the Flood Dragon King suddenly turned his head, his vertical pupils like blades, staring intently at the old dragon, as if he wanted to dissect the old dragon's wicked schemes.

He took this risky action because he was misled by the old dragon and calculated that the West Sea Dragon King would swallow the loss and suffer in silence to protect his own son.

In this way, he refined the Sea-Stabilizing Pearl and swallowed a portion of the power over the Western Sea veins;

And the old dragon could take the opportunity to smear the Dragon King and plot to seize the throne of the Dragon Palace.

Although the scheme was cleverly executed, each and every one of these transactions was a clandestine affair that could not be brought to light.

Once it's out in the open, no matter how powerful he is, he won't get any benefit.

After all, the fate of that monkey is still fresh in everyone's memory.

Therefore, after realizing there might be a risk of exposure, he didn't even touch a hair on the young Taoist's head.

Even that half-finished, hot-handed bead was given up with a flick of the sleeve.

Upon hearing this, the old dragon's face wrinkled as if sealed by wind and frost, unable to be stretched out at all.

The lingering greed in his eyes, still carrying a hint of covetousness, was quickly replaced by a heavy sense of resentment.

But since the person in front of him has already given up, what else can he do?
His throat bobbed, and he forced out two dry laughs, then quickly bowed and cupped his hands in greeting:
"In that case... let's leave today's matter for another day. I'll take my leave now, so as not to disturb the Great Sage's peaceful cultivation."

Before he could finish speaking, he had already quietly turned around, his sleeves fluttering in the wind, and was about to make a quick getaway.

To everyone's surprise, the Flood Dragon Demon King didn't even bother to lift his eyelids, coldly uttering only two words:
"Wait a minute."

The voice wasn't loud, yet it felt like mountains and seas pressing down on you.

The old dragon's body stiffened, and he felt as if the seawater around him had frozen over. An invisible, immense force pressed down on his back, preventing him from moving an inch.

He could only slowly turn his head back, a smile still on his face, but the smile was as thin as a cicada's wing, revealing a few drops of cold sweat.

"Great Sage... is there anything else you require?"

"I don't dare to obey my orders."

The Demon King of the Flood Dragon finally looked up at him. His vertical pupils were as cold and icy as a lamp in an ice well, revealing no trace of affection, only cold bargaining chips and calculations.

"But we need to calculate this cost."

He bent one finger and gently tapped on the armrest of the throne.

"Attsu."

The sound was like fine rain tapping on a teapot, yet in this deep, secluded water palace, it resonated with layers of cold echoes, like bells and drums, striking the heart.

"I've gone through so much trouble, losing both time and resources, and in the end I didn't even get a feather. It was all thanks to your vague and ambiguous words that I was left empty-handed."

The words were not harsh, nor were they spoken hastily, yet they were like sand sinking into a well, growing colder with each listen.

The old dragon's heart skipped a beat, and he hurriedly whispered, "Great Sage, this matter... was truly an accident..."

"Accident?"

The Demon King of the Flood Dragon raised an eyebrow slightly, a mocking smile playing on his lips, a smile so cold it sent chills down one's spine:

"The 'accident' you mentioned, I'm the one who has to pay the price... You've certainly made a good deal, Lao Long."

At this point, he paused, his gaze suddenly becoming as deep as an abyss.

“Especially that black dragon, who is always alert, is one of my most valued nephews.”

"Now, because of this 'accident,' I've died without knowing why."

He leaned forward slightly, his expression unchanged, yet his imposing aura was like a storm crashing down, making it hard to breathe.

"You have to compensate for these losses."

(End of this chapter)