At those words, Taibai Jinxing said nothing more.
He glanced at the Three Mao Lords and nodded.
Then he stepped forward, raised his Fly-Whisk, and proclaimed loudly:
"The third round, the Life-Saving Match!"
"The Holy Monk's fourth disciple, Sha Wujing, wins!"
"The contest of arts is over, and the result is decided."
"Two wins out of three!"
"The Pilgrim's party wins!"
As his voice faded, the phantom stars surrounding the White Jade Arena slowly disappeared.
With that, the three rounds of the contest came to an end.
Bajie let out a long sigh of relief and wiped away the nonexistent sweat on his forehead.
"Finally over... Old Pig's exhausted."
"My heart was about to leap out of my chest the whole time."
Wukong rested the Golden Cudgel on his shoulder and chuckled.
Little White Dragon held his Silver Spear, his eyelids slightly lowered, his expression as cool as ever.
Sha Wujing looked down at his bare torso and scratched his head.
He seemed a little embarrassed and wanted to find something to wear.
Great Mao Lord Mao Ying and the Middle Mao Lord also stepped onto the arena, about to approach and offer their congratulations.
Just then,
Above the Nine Heavens, wind and clouds rolled backward.
An invisible force pressed the sea of clouds outside the White Jade Arena down.
A vast, majestic voice pierced layer upon layer of sky and descended straight upon them.
"Wait!"
As that single word fell, the entire White Jade Arena sank slightly.
The Three Mao Lords' expressions turned solemn at once.
Together, they lifted their robes and bowed toward the heavens.
Taibai Jinxing immediately lowered his eyes as well.
The breath Bajie had just released caught in his throat again.
He tucked his neck in, the fat on his face trembling, and secretly