Far beyond the sight of mortals, past veils of drifting gold mist and clouds saturated with divine qi, lay Tiān, the Heavenly Realm. Here, every breath was immortal essence, every stone radiated divinity, and every breeze whispered the hymns of ages.
Suspended within the highest layer of Dàolǐ Tiān, the Thirty-Three Heavens stood the Tiāntíng, the Heavenly Court.
It was a hall carved from the marrow of stars, inlaid with jade rivers that pulsed like living veins of light, and pillars crowned with celestial lotuses burning with sacred fire. Upon its colossal table, thousands of treasures glittered: relics of forgotten dynasties, blades that once split mountains, artifacts mortals once worshipped before memory itself failed them.
And seated in their rightful places were beings who had witnessed empires rise and fall, sages and gods whose names had become myth in the mortal tongue.
This day's topic was not war, nor punishment, but the steady maintenance of the mortal realm. Did the people still offer incense? Did balance still hold? Did mortals still whisper prayers beneath moonlit shrines?
At the head of the gathering presided Yuanshi Tianzun, the Supreme Pure One, his form bathed in layers of ineffable light, his eyes like two suns containing endless cycles. His voice resounded:
"The mortal pulse wanes, yet it endures. Their offerings grow sparse, but their striving spirit remains fierce. Such is the way of men. They forget, yet they fight to survive. And so, we continue to watch."
The gods nodded, some with detached calm, others with faint scorn for mortal weakness.
But then....
A golden wind tore through the jade doors, carrying with it the chime of a thousand unseen bells. The court trembled as light coalesced, forming three colossal beasts that shimmered with an ancient radiance:
A golden dragon, coils vast enough to encircle mountains.
A golden phoenix, wings trailing fire and rebirth.
And a golden nine-tailed fox, tails weaving through reality like flowing rivers of destiny.
Their voices wove together, each finishing where the other began:
"We come bearing tidings."
"The cycle nears its end."
"The Martial King shall return."
The words echoed, and the Heavenly Court erupted into chaos.
Shock rippled across the assembly.
"The Martial King? Impossible!" cried a storm deity, slamming his halberd into the floor. "That scourge cannot have survived!"
"A reincarnation denied!" thundered another. "His soul was rejected by the very laws of Heaven itself!"
"The balance will shatter if he returns," muttered a goddess of rivers, her silver hair quivering like rain.
Even Yuanshi Tianzun's brow creased, his serene aura dimming slightly as murmurs filled the hall.
When order was restored, his deep voice rolled like the turning of an age:
"Beasts of prophecy, speak. Do you know where he lies, or what guise he wears?"
The dragon, phoenix, and fox bowed their radiant heads in unison.
"We do not. He has not awakened."
"He has not declared himself."
"But four hundred mortal years have passed, and a thousand divine cycles here. His time ripens."
The hall grew still.
A fox goddess, slender and veiled in layers of twilight silk, rose to her feet. Her nine tails fanned behind her like an omen. Her eyes were sharp as blades as she whispered:
"This fault lies not with us. The one who had the chance to end him toyed with fate. One who calls himself equal to Heaven… chose amusement over duty."
Her words cut the court like knives.
Every gaze turned.
And there he was...Sun Wukong, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, lounging sideways upon his throne as though the hall were his private garden. His golden eyes glimmered with mischief, his fur catching flickers of divine flame, his staff leaning casually against the table.
He yawned, stretched, and waved dismissively, the very picture of arrogance wrapped in charm. Yet even in his indolence, an aura leaked from him wild, untamed, as though the heavens themselves strained to contain it.
"Ah, you flatter me, Fox. Always so quick to pin the grand tapestry of fate on these shoulders."
He smirked, teeth flashing.
"You think I didn't know what the boy would become? Of course I did. That's why I let him live. It amused me. And Heaven itself—" he tilted his head toward Yuanshi Tianzun with mock respect—"should thank me for the entertainment."
The court bristled. Swords rattled. A thunder god nearly rose, only to be stilled by Yuanshi's raised hand.
Wukong twirled a peach between his fingers, biting into it with a crunch.
"Come now. You all know the truth. The title 'Martial King' wasn't gifted by Heaven. It was earned. He fought, he clawed, he defied, and in doing so he became something none of you dared to crush outright. Isn't that why you fear his return? Not because he defies balance—" his eyes gleamed "but because he reminds you what balance truly costs."
The hall fell silent, for none could refute him.
Yuanshi Tianzun, ever steady, finally spoke:
"And if he does awaken? What course do you propose, Great Sage?"
Wukong leaned back, tapping his staff idly against the marble, golden sparks hissing with each strike.
>"Simple. Let him rise. Let him tear through mortals, let him shake sects, let him remind the world what real strength looks like. And when the time comes, if he grows too loud—"
he grinned, feral and radiant,
"—I'll be there to play with him again."
Gasps spread through the court, but Wukong paid them no mind. His gaze had drifted far below, piercing layers of cloud and sky until it found a tiny arena where two mortals clashed.
His lips curled, amused.
"Speaking of games… I'm watching a little match right now. Two mortals trading fists and blood. One's a prodigy, sharp, fierce, everything Heaven adores."
He chuckled.
"The other? A fool. A clown. And yet… something about him sings to me. I'll put my bet on him. The fool, not the prodigy."
The court shifted uneasily, but none dared ask why.
For when the Monkey King smiled, omens stirred.
And below, in the mortal realm, Jin and Shenlu Feng traded blows, unaware that their struggle was now the subject of gods.
The Heavenly Court stirred uneasily. After Wukong's mocking words, Yuanshi Tianzun allowed the silence to hang, a silence heavy with memory. Then slowly, one by one, the gods spoke.
A war god clad in crimson armor, scars etched even upon his divine form, growled:
"You call him Martial King, but you know what he truly was. He fought not with gifts from Heaven but with a body and will sharpened against every tribulation. I once tested him myself. Three days and three nights we clashed upon the Southern Wastes, my divine spear against his bare hands. In the end, my spear broke."
A murmur rippled through the court.
A sage with hair white as flowing rivers raised his staff:
"He mastered techniques in breaths where others took centuries. Sword, fist, spear, blade,he absorbed them all. What made him feared was not his strength alone, but his… understanding. He looked at a technique once, and it was as though he had created it himself."
The goddess of fate, her face hidden behind a veil of woven stars, whispered with trembling disdain:
"He was not born to any fate I spun. His thread could not be cut, nor tied. Even the loom of destiny rejected him. Do you understand? He was an unbound existence. That is why he terrifies me still."
Gasps filled the chamber.
A god of mountains, voice deep as rolling thunder, spoke with reluctant awe:
"He walked into my domain, and the peaks themselves bent. Not because of power… but because he carried the will of mortals. When he fought, it was as though every soldier, every farmer, every orphan that ever raised their fists lived within his strikes. He was no king of crowns, but of spirit. That is why the people named him Martial King."
The court fell into hushed reverence, each deity recalling in fragments their own encounters, their own scars. Some spoke of cities burned in his duels, others of disciples who still pray in his name, despite his supposed death centuries past.
And then the fox goddess spoke again, her voice sharp:
"Do not dress him in poetry. He was ruin. He toppled sects, shattered heavenly generals, and dared to climb even this realm's threshold. Do you not remember? Had the Great Sage not stopped him with his games and tricks, he might have forced his way into Heaven itself."
All eyes shifted again to Wukong.
The Monkey King only laughed, drumming his fingers against his staff.
"Stopped him? No. I taught him. I showed him chaos, showed him freedom. You're right, Fox...he might have stormed your gates. But why would I deny him that? A warrior who dares to strike Heaven deserves to see what lies beyond."
Yuanshi Tianzun's gaze narrowed, his voice heavy as a collapsing star:
"And now he returns, reborn, veiled in mortal flesh. His cycle is unbroken. If his will remains unbound, if his blade thirsts again… what then, Great Sage?"
Wukong grinned, golden eyes alight with mirth and danger.
"Then let Heaven tremble. Let the world sing. And let me have my fun."
He leaned forward, suddenly sharp, his aura exploding like a storm barely leashed.
"But remember this: you call him Martial King because you fear him. I call him brother, because I respect him. And if he truly awakens " his smile widened, fangs glinting "I'll be the first to greet him."
The gods sat in silence, their immortality unable to suppress the shiver that passed through them.
And below, unaware of the weight of destinies balanced upon their fists, Jin and Shenlu Feng fought on,each strike echoing faintly in the hearts of gods who wondered if they were watching the first embers of the Martial King's return.