As he spoke, Shen Luo involuntarily flipped his hand and drew out the Zhenhai Refined Iron Rod, following Sun Wukong's movements as he began practicing atop the cliff.
At first, his movements were somewhat stiff, but after only a few exchanges, the Zhenhai Refined Iron Rod was already whistling through the air in his hands, and his motions had become considerably smoother.
Yet Shen Luo knew that this sense of fluidity came only from his grasp of the finer details of the movements. In essence, it was merely an imitation in form; he was still far from capturing their true spirit.
At this moment, the ones fighting the Ape King within the crystal wall were no longer just the Flood Demon King and the Macaque Demon King. A third Demon King had joined the battle long ago.
He stood over a zhang tall, with a human body but a savage lion's head, blue-faced and fanged. In his fan-sized palm, he gripped a Golden-Wire Great Ringed Saber. Together with the other two, he surrounded the Golden-Armored Ape King and fought him to a standstill.
For a time, flashes of blades and shadows of weapons filled the air, too dazzling to take in.
Shen Luo stared intently at the scene within the crystal wall, and his mind gradually sank into it. What had initially been mere mimicry became faster and faster, while his thoughts unknowingly merged into the painting.
In a daze, Shen Luo seemed to enter the crystal wall and fuse with the Golden-Armored Ape King. Every strike, every shift, every leap and turn of the Ape King became his own movements.
The staff techniques that had merely resembled the original in form now began to progress from form to spirit, then from spirit back into form. The essence of every