After properly tending to Patriarch Bodhi's injuries, Zhenyuan the Great helped Fangcun Mountain temporarily set up a rudimentary mountain-protecting Magic Formation, lest those fiends still harbored evil intentions and returned after leaving.
A great sect renowned throughout the world had been severely weakened by this battle.
Even more troubling was that this upheaval had not only stripped the already loose Demon-Resisting Alliance of its name, but was about to cause its actual dissolution as well.
As Shen Luo pondered the current situation, he felt that after the illusory splendor had been stripped from the present world, the reality was even more hopeless than in the dream realm. At least back then, everyone had shared a common goal. With a common enemy and united efforts, there had still been a chance to cut through metal with combined strength.
But now, former allies had not only turned away from one another, but were gradually showing signs of becoming enemies. The Demon Clan's apparent submission to the Immortal Race was even more worrying.
Several days passed in a flash.
At the summit of Fangcun Mountain, Patriarch Bodhi, Zhenyuan the Great, Sun Wukong, and Shen Luo sat facing one another in the main hall of an undamaged palace.
After several days of recuperation, everyone's injuries had improved considerably, and Patriarch Bodhi had awakened as well.
"Only after hearing Fellow Daoist Zhen Yuanzi's account did I learn that young friend Shen had already done so much for the Three Realms. It truly makes this old man ashamed. I had indeed underestimated you before." Though Patriarch Bodhi had yet to fully recover, a gratified smile hung on his face.
"You flatter me, Senior. I do not deserve such praise." Shen Luo looked embarrassed as he replied.
"Young friend Shen's experiences are extraordinary. I originally believed only