This Seat, East Prince Gong

East Prince Gong took a step forward, and the aura around him erupted like an ancient volcano that had slumbered for hundreds of millions of years.

That domineering pressure belonging to the ancient Head of Male Immortals swept across all of Peach Mountain without reservation.

The spiritual energy between heaven and earth gathered madly, transforming into tangible pure yang qi that churned and roared around him.

The smile on Maitreya's face instantly froze.

Under that pressure, his fat body involuntarily staggered half a step back.

Beneath the impact of the pure yang qi, the golden swastika seal emitted strained cracking sounds, its light rapidly dimming.

Maitreya stared fixedly at the old man before him, who held a Dragon Head Staff.

From the other man, he felt a tremor rising from the depths of his soul. He had only ever experienced such a feeling from his own two Saint masters.

"Who are you?!"

"How dare you make an enemy of the Western Teachings!"

Maitreya shouted sternly, trying to use the Western Teachings' name to suppress him.

East Prince Gong remained calm, not even lifting an eyelid.

He lightly planted the Dragon Head Staff in his hand against the void.

Boom!

The space within a hundred miles instantly collapsed, and violent spatial currents ravaged the area.

"This Seat, East Prince Gong."

Those five simple words exploded over Peach Mountain like five bolts of thunder striking at once.

Maitreya's pupils abruptly widened, and his expression completely froze.

Medicine Master also stopped what he was doing. The one hundred and eight Golden-Body Arhats swayed violently in midair, nearly unable to maintain their formation.

"What?!"

"You... you are East Prince Gong?"

Maitreya cried out in shock, his voice filled with undisguised horror.

Had East Prince Gong not perished long ago during the Witch-Demon Great Tribulation?