Clearing the Level

The snail monster was vomiting blood, completely caught off guard.

The first blow had reopened its old wounds. The second had thoroughly damaged its very foundation, cracking even its core Great Dao.

More importantly, it had never expected the Ginseng Fruit Tree not to merely pretend to be broken by the monkey, but to truly sever itself—using actual death to cut apart its own Dao foundation.

Though in the end, it had been revived.

But why?

Why would a fruit tree at the threshold of sainthood do such a thing?

Countless questions filled its mind.

But there was no time to think!

Its injuries were simply too severe.

So severe that it had no choice but to descend into slumber and heal itself. It would likely be unable to awaken for a very long time in the future; without aid, it might even sink into permanent silence.

Damn it!

For several eras, it had never made a single mistake. Yet at the final critical moment, things had turned out like this.

Blood flowed even from the snail's eyes. Its gaze upon the World Fragment was filled with devouring, bloodthirsty hatred.

It hated this.

Hated it so much, so much.

It had nearly been wounded by a mere Golden Core to the point of having no choice but to slumber. Damn Zhenyuanzi—if not for his suppression, let alone injuring it, a Golden Core would be instantly slain by a single glance from it. That was right: it was no ordinary external scourge. The fact that Zhenyuan Immortal had personally suppressed it rather than simply beheading it proved just how extraordinary it was. It was a dignified near-Saint, one of the three kings beneath the Gray Lord.

But there was no point saying any of that now. Its injuries were too grave;