"Time to settle what happened back then."
The old Sacred Ape's gaze was profound as he let out a long sigh.
As he spoke, under the dumbfounded gazes of the ancestral kings, he summoned a golden path stretching ten thousand miles, stood upon it, and sped toward the Eastern Wasteland millions upon millions of miles away.
The primordial ancestral kings looked at one another, too stunned to speak.
The reaction of the Kun Royal Clan's upper ranks was not hard to imagine.
I fucking told you to invite the Great Sage Equal to Heaven... no, to invite the Fighting Saint King. How did you bring this damned monkey to our clan?
I told you to kill a Dao Sect giant, not beat up our own people!
Thinking of how they had botched the task assigned by the ancient clan higher-ups, the primordial ancestral kings were overcome with sorrow, unable to voice their grievances, seized by the urge to burst into tears.
This... was probably life~~
"Amitabha Buddha, how good, how good..."
A lingering Buddhist chant rang out as an old monk suddenly stepped out of the temple.
He was incomparably aged and gaunt, skin and bones, with withered yellow hair. Even his face resembled a dried orange, covered in wrinkles and crisscrossing creases, his expression full of misery.
He wore old monk's robes and bore not the slightest aura of a cultivator.
The ancient sages led by the ancestral king in azure-gold battle armor were instantly startled.
Who was this man? When had he appeared on the scene?
All eight ancestral kings were powerful primordial beings at the Saint level, each having once astonished their era.
As for the ancestral king clad in azure-gold battle armor, he was a peak Saint who had cultivated for six thousand years, with