Sun Wukong was prepared to teach Xuan Tianji another profound lesson—one that would ensure he would not dare bare his fangs at him again for the next fifteen hundred years.
But just as Sun Wukong was about to strike ruthlessly and cripple Xuan Tianji, dense clouds suddenly churned directly overhead. Countless figures flashed within them. Beneath the mist, they seemed to stretch across the entire sky, endless and boundless.
Seeing that the real mastermind had arrived, Sun Wukong did not immediately bring down his staff. Wang Lei also looked up at the sky, appreciating the special-effects spectacle Lieshan Pan Zhen had put on for his entrance.
As a gap opened in the clouds, it revealed an ornately decorated imperial carriage—the kind only emperors in ancient Hua Xia were allowed to ride. Except this carriage needed no beasts to pull it; it was most likely fully automated. Pan Zhen, clad in silver armor, sat within it.
On either side of the imperial carriage stood a guardian, one wielding a Taoist Nine-Section Whip and the other a Long-Handled Round Hammer. Countless Blazing Sun soldiers filled the flanks and the rear. The display was certainly imposing enough.
In Wang Lei's eyes, though, all those surrounding soldiers were merely extras there to watch the big shots show off. Pan Zhen himself, on the other hand, looked like a miniature sun to Wang Lei. He had no idea whether Pan Zhen was deliberately putting on a show or was simply like this by nature, but the stellar energy within him was practically overflowing. The sealed Leina was utterly incomparable to Pan Zhen. Now this was what a top-tier third-generation divine body was supposed to look like.
And Pan Zhen's two guardians were divine bodies as well. But compared to Pan Zhen, they were far weaker.