Bring Out One Hundred Thousand Drops of Merit Divine Water, Now!

Lin Zhu stood beside a boulder, still pinching a stalk of grass he had picked up casually. He leaned loosely against a tree trunk as if he had no bones. Hearing Guanyin Bodhisattva's question, he blinked first, then straightened up with a face full of black lines.

Without saying a word, he reached into thin air with his right hand. A pitch-black long spear appeared in his palm out of nowhere, dark crimson patterns faintly flowing along its shaft. Even the air gave off soft tearing sounds wherever its tip pointed.

God-Slaying Spear.

The moment he drew the spear, the temperature across all of Luojia Mountain seemed to plummet by more than ten degrees. The surrounding grass and trees silently bent low. The birdsong and insect cries in the mountains vanished in an instant, leaving the place so quiet that one could hear their own heartbeat.

Little White Dragon unconsciously retreated half a step. His scales stood on end, and his tail went rigid. Guanyin Bodhisattva's reaction was even more intense. Every hair on her body stood upright the instant the God-Slaying Spear appeared. Cold sweat soaked through the fabric on her back, leaving it pressed against her skin in an icy sheet.

Lin Zhu planted the God-Slaying Spear into the ground. Its butt sank three inches into the stone, scattering a few shards of rock. Tilting his head at Guanyin Bodhisattva, he spoke as casually as if asking whether she had eaten. "Have you forgotten what this treasure feels like? How dare you speak to me like that?"

Guanyin Bodhisattva's face went deathly pale in an instant.

She instinctively took a step back, the scene of that battle from years ago surfacing uncontrollably in her mind. It had been the closest she had ever come to death since beginning