The Golden Cymbal fell like a mountain.
Wherever it passed, any matter, any life, even any concept would be trapped by the Golden Cymbal—this was Yellow Browed Monster’s proudest killing move.
A smile of inevitable victory had already crept across his face.
He was certain this Golden Cymbal would trap the woman who dared curse him as a fiend.
But at that moment, he suddenly saw the Divine Manifestation raise its hand—
In perfect sync with Su Fu, it gently lifted a hand.
The goddess’s slender five fingers lightly supported upward.
The movement seemed gentle, but the moment it was made, the rampaging Golden Cymbal came to a sudden halt in midair.
It was as if it were gripped by an invisible palm, unable to fall even a fraction further.
A look of shock immediately appeared on Yellow Browed Monster’s ferocious face as he stared in disbelief at the scene before him.
“No—this can’t be!”
He had never seen anyone block his Golden Cymbal before, let alone stop it in midair so effortlessly.
Yellow Browed Monster’s heavy breathing echoed through the whole Little Thunderclap Monastery as he frantically waved his hands, blue veins bulging on his forehead, desperately trying to force the Golden Cymbal down.
“Down! Down! Down!”
But the Golden Cymbal was like it had grown roots, suspended motionless in midair.
For the first time, the Yellow Browed Monster felt lost.
‘What on earth was going on?’
“How could there be an existence the Golden Cymbal can’t trap?!”
It wasn’t just Yellow Browed Monster who didn’t understand—Achilles and the others were equally speechless in shock.
They’d experienced the horror of the Golden Cymbal themselves.
Even those like Bodhi Yue and Hopte, who possessed the status of Founding God, had been trapped within it at first, only barely escaping by forcibly suppressing its conceptual hold.
But Su Fu… Why wasn’t she following the usual sequence?
Not even stepping inside?
She just stopped it from the outside?
“Founding Goddess… Nuwa?” Merlin muttered, his voice almost inaudible.
Everyone snapped back to their senses.
Wait—when did Su Fu summon the Founding Goddess?
And even master a Divine Manifestation?
That’s not right—hadn’t she just displayed a Saint’s Manifestation in the form of the monkey?
Now she had the Founding Goddess’s Divine Manifestation too?
This was… a dual Divine Manifestation?!
Everyone: “…..”
Defying the heavens.
While everyone else cultivated just one, she went and got two?
And even so, it shouldn’t be so easy to subdue the Golden Cymbal, even as a Founding God.
Hopte’s eyes were round as saucers.
What was happening?
Su Fu’s Founding God seemed different from his own.
‘Why could Su Fu control the Golden Cymbal so easily? What was going on?’
Yellow Browed Monster had lost his mind, roaring in fury: “Get down! Get down!”
He kept pressing his hands downward, as if that alone could force the Golden Cymbal to drop.
With both sides opposing, sound waves surged from the Golden Cymbal and the whole Little Thunderclap Monastery trembled faintly.
Then, he heard Su Fu’s offhanded words—
“Creation Power!”
Yellow Browed Monster’s mind buzzed.
Instinctively sensing danger, he stopped trying to force the Golden Cymbal down and instead tried desperately to call it back.
“Return! Come back to me!”
But it was too late.
He watched, eyes wide, as Su Fu flipped her palm, her motion turning into a gentle downward press.
The Nuwa Divine Manifestation behind her mirrored her movement, and the Golden Cymbal in midair, rather than ascending, continued its descent.
It lowered until the Nuwa Divine Manifestation touched its edge.
Five-colored divine power rapidly spread over the cymbal’s surface, covering it from bottom to top.
Like iridescent ripples, the golden hue was swallowed up, inch by inch.
As natural and irresistible as the melting of ice and blooming of flowers in spring.
Only then did Yellow Browed Monster realize in terror that the Golden Cymbal was no longer under his control—like a rope being drawn from his grasp, little by little.
It felt as if a deep transformation was taking place.
An unprecedented fear seized his heart.
“No! Golden Cymbal, come back to me!” The Yellow Browed Monster panicked and screamed hoarsely.
But to his shock, the Golden Cymbal didn’t heed his call.
Instead, it quivered sharply, flying toward Su Fu of its own accord.
As if annoyed by his shouting, it sent a wave of sound to knock him away—
“Bang!”
Yellow Browed Monster was sent sprawling by the sound wave, tumbling far across the floor.
He was dazed, still a little confused—had his own precious Golden Cymbal just struck him down?
‘No, it must be that woman’s trickery.’
As Yellow Browed Monster struggled to stand, he suddenly saw something shocking—
The Golden Cymbal rapidly shrank, finally shrinking to the size of a palm, then spinning gleefully as it zipped to Su Fu’s hand, turning into a dainty golden bell.
Yellow Browed Monster’s eyes nearly split with fury.
His treasure!
His proudest treasure had been stolen by this woman just like that.
“Golden Cymbal!” he cried, unwilling to accept it.
But the Golden Cymbal ignored him, even nuzzling in Su Fu’s palm to show loyalty—more fawning than he’d ever seen.
Like a kitten.
And in the next instant, it completely severed its last connection with him.
Yellow Browed Monster: “!!!”
His mentality collapsed on the spot.
He roared, “What did you do to my Golden Cymbal?!”
Su Fu smiled lightly and said, “No, isn’t it my Golden Cymbal now?”
She gave the little golden bell in her hand a gentle shake.
The Yellow Browed Monster felt his mind snap and he shouted, “Give me back my Golden Cymbal!”
He leapt up from the ground, eyes bloodshot, fangs bared, like a demon from hell, charging madly at Su Fu.
“That’s my Golden Cymbal!”
That Golden Cymbal had saved him from peril countless times and brought him great achievements.
It wasn’t just a treasure—it was his lifeblood.
Without it, how could he control the demons or defend Little Thunderclap Monastery?
He had to get it back.
No matter what sorcery she’d used, he had to snatch it back!
The other demons in the monastery were terrified by this scene.
The Golden Cymbal was stolen by that woman, just like that?
“If even the king’s Golden Cymbal is taken, what’s the point of fighting?”
“Run! What kind of monster is that, able to claim even the Golden Cymbal for herself!”
“We’re done for! We can’t beat her!”
“Run for your lives!”
The demons scattered in fear, chaos erupting.
Su Fu watched the furious Yellow Browed Monster charging her.
She neither dodged nor flinched—rather surprised he would rush at her on his own.
Well then—
“Little Gold.”
She’d even picked out a name.
“Finish him!”
The Golden Cymbal began to vibrate happily, and a clear thought came: ‘Yes, Mother!’
As soon as the words fell, the little golden bell broke free from her palm, rapidly expanding in the air until it became the mountain-sized Golden Cymbal again, crashing down toward Yellow Browed Monster!
The air seemed to freeze, Yellow Browed Monster’s movements instantly stilled.
Seeing the Golden Cymbal looming above, he finally realized things had gone wrong.
The Golden Cymbal was truly no longer under his control—it really would trap him now!
The instant he understood, fear surged up.
He wanted to retreat, but his limbs were as heavy as lead.
Cold terror crept up his spine, his mind went blank.
“…………”
“Stop! I command you to stop!” Yellow Browed Monster’s voice cracked.
He stretched out his hand, trying as before to control the Golden Cymbal—but it was useless.
Seeing the Golden Cymbal about to fall, he screamed, “You traitor! I am your master!”
“Bang!”
With a thunderous crash, the Golden Cymbal fell, trapping Yellow Browed Monster beneath it.
Golden Cymbal was satisfied.
Between a master and a mother, it knew whom to choose.
Just then, Mother’s voice sounded—
“Little Gold, don’t let a single demon escape.”
‘Understood!’
The Golden Cymbal soared, trapping the other demons.
Some climbed onto rooftops, some burrowed underground, some turned into insects to escape, but none could elude its reach.
“Ah—”
“Help!”
“Bang! Bang! Bang!”
In just a few breaths, every demon in and around Little Thunderclap Monastery was swept into the Golden Cymbal—silence followed.
Atop the monastery’s tower, Achilles and his group were left speechless for a long time.
They’d planned to watch from a high vantage and see what happened, but they hadn’t expected to witness something so shocking.
“She didn’t just block the Golden Cymbal,” Achilles murmured, “she… actually claimed it for herself?”
“That treasure was called the Golden Cymbal?” Bodhi Yue’s lips trembled.
Only now did they learn its name.
Freya swallowed hard, finding her throat parched as she said, “The important thing is—she just stretched out her hand, and the Golden Cymbal became hers?”
‘She wanted it, and she got it. What kind of heaven-defying ability was that? Founding Goddess… Nuwa… who in the world is she?’
“I thought my Lord God granting me total elemental immunity was already heaven-defying, but…” Hopte stared at the Golden Cymbal, envy gnawing at his heart.
“But compared to Su Fu, whatever she wants, the Lord God just gives her.”
Heavens, how can anyone compete with that?
The demon’s treasure just turned into hers right away—he was so jealous tears nearly leaked from his mouth.
He wanted one too.
Hopte turned to Bodhi Yue in grief and indignation, “And you? What did your Lord God give you? Can your Lord give you whatever you want?”
Bodhi Yue: “……”
She was speechless, “You’re so childish, can you stop comparing?”
Hopte realized, “Oh—so that means nothing.”
Bodhi Yue: “…..”
She could take it no longer, her temples throbbed as she scolded the foolish mutt: “The only person who’ll give you whatever you want is your own mother!”
“The Lord God is the Founding God, not your mom!”
Hopte was immediately wounded: “Then why can Su Fu do it? Why can she—”
“Shut up!” Freya cut him off, unable to bear it and asked, “Can you stop showing off already?!”
“Is now the time to worry about this? Su Fu has the Golden Cymbal—think about what we should do next!” At her words, the group fell silent.
It was as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over their heads, leaving them chilled to the core.
Right—their feud with Su Fu was enormous.
They’d originally hoped to use the Golden Cymbal to control Su Fu and eliminate her for good but now not only had they failed to control her, they’d handed her the Golden Cymbal on a silver platter.
It was like upending the heavens, lifting a rock only to crush their own feet.
Achilles’s face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, his gaze fixed fiercely on Su Fu below.
“Why?” he growled through gritted teeth, “Why does she…?”
He was a child of the heavens, favored by Zeus, and had fought with all his might just to barely escape.
But some trash with four rings could turn around, control the Golden Cymbal, and even claim it as her own?
He was unwilling—utterly unwilling.
Merlin no longer cared about anyone else, his prophetic sense of danger was howling in his mind, every thought screaming of impending peril.
It made him feel as if he were sitting on needles, about to go mad.
Every prophet is a potential madman.
He couldn’t take it anymore.
He looked at the others, his voice so hoarse it didn’t sound like his own: “I’m quitting!”
He was almost unhinged: “If I stay here another moment, I’ll die!”
Everyone turned in astonishment to look at him, only to see Merlin had already stood up, his face white as paper, lips bloodless.
Bodhi Yue hurried to persuade him, “Merlin, if you quit now, all your efforts are wasted—don’t do anything foolish!”
But Merlin couldn’t listen, he only regretted not leaving sooner.
He shouted, “Shen Yan, I want to withdraw from the Newborn Joint Entrance Exam!”
Almost at the same time, a terrifying sense of danger rose behind him—like a blade pressed to his throat, only a little force away from cutting through.
Merlin abruptly ducked his head, cold sweat sliding down his cheek.
His gaze pierced through the layers of the tower, straight to the ground below Little Thunderclap Monastery.
There, Su Fu was raising her head, meeting his eyes across the distance, lips curving in a smile.
“She sees me!” Merlin’s heart nearly burst from his chest.
“She sees me! Shen Yan, hurry! Hurry! Hurry!”
There was no time—he could not stay in the monastery any longer.
He spun, rushing to the edge of the tower, and leaped off.
The sensation of freefall made his insides churn, but he forced down the nausea.
He wanted to use his artifact, the Sun Chariot, but recalled Su Fu’s terrifying powers.
If he summoned it, it might turn on him and send him right back to Su Fu!
In his ear, Shen Yan’s cold mechanical voice sounded: