The five members of the Preaching Squad stood apart on all sides, their blood and qi settled and dense. Their fighting spirit had not faded, yet their hearts had quietly sunk.
Several probes, several failures.
Abandon a Lingbao, and it would invariably be seized.
Deploy a Dao art, and it would invariably be suppressed.
Pit flesh against flesh, and all brute force would vanish.
Sun Wukong suppressed the defiance in his heart, golden flames retreating into the depths of his eyes. He no longer struck rashly.
Those who had survived a hundred battles understood restraint best.
Pointless ferocity was not a contest. It was throwing one's life away.
Tang Sanzang stilled his burial Dao, his gaze sharpening slightly as he carefully reviewed every detail of the entire confrontation.
Zhu Bajie drew his feet back slightly, his taut flesh slowly relaxing-not out of complacency, but to gather strength and watch in silence.
Little White Dragon folded his wings slightly and stopped circling to probe their opponent, taking in the entire scene through his senses.
The five gradually arrived at the same conclusion.
They could no longer attack blindly.
This Immortal Lord of Myriad Laws was by no means a powerhouse who overwhelmed others through sheer reserves alone.
He was the same kind of existence as the True Martial Great Emperor they had encountered beside the Heaven-Reaching River.
He possessed a unique mechanic, a complete system of rules unto himself.
Ordinary combat, contests of brute strength, bombardments of Dao arts-all were useless.
Against a powerful enemy governed by mechanics, reckless attacks would only lead them step by step into the cage he had prepared.
The harder they attacked, the more tightly they were constrained.
The more they probed, the more they lost the initiative.
If they fought rashly, the outcome was already