With the roar of the Eight-Gods Flame, the armor worn by the figure flickered with light; then, astonishingly, it began to melt. It transformed into a deep blue flame. Confronted with this flame, Sun Wukong felt as if he had plunged into an ice cellar, a bone-chilling cold assaulting him, seemingly ready to freeze his very being. This was just a whiff of the fiery blaze's aura, yet it was terrifyingly potent; if even a speck of this flame touched him, it might freeze his soul into an icy clump.
Yet, Sun Wukong's arms had been heavily injured because he had just forcibly grasped two streaks of firelight. Although the firelight was extinguished, Sun Wukong's arms were nearly ruined. The flesh in the palms of his hands was charred and indistinct, and the tendons and bones in his arms were damaged. The meridians were eroded by the scorching power of the flames, now absolutely unable to circulate mana.
