The great blue-black banner fluttered without wind.
Scarlet immortal light suffused the heavens.
Mist and darkness wove together into an immortal law of the Great Dao. Like stars filling the sky and scattering into a river, the ghost god holding a spiked hammer upside down silently gazed into the lonely night sky. Amid bursts of hissing, the blood rain evaporated into indestructible immortal force.
Enemies lay dead beneath his feet, their bones buried upon the immortal path.
The rain was shallow, only allowing his violet-black nails to sink into it without even reaching his ankles.
The silence continued.
No one knew what the ghost god standing beneath the stars was thinking. Yet there were no longer any whispers or baseless speculations.
Awe, even fear, shrouded everyone like vast fog filling the heavens.
If Tu Shan Jun had once merely been renowned throughout the world, then now he had shaken the entire realm.
The old Buddha of the West had been forced by his might to yield the way. The ancestors of great clans were slaughtered as easily as chickens and dogs. He was practically a reborn Heavenly Emperor. Unfortunately, like the Heavenly Emperor, he did not have many years left to live.
That was perhaps regrettable, yet it also made many great divine powers feel deeply relieved.
The strong—
Were better off living in legend.
What was he thinking?
Perhaps he was marveling at his peerless combat strength. Or perhaps he was moved by the passing of life. It was even possible that he was contemplating and discerning the imminent arrival of the Great Terror...
No one disturbed him.
Even the powerhouses of the Three Teachings remained silent. This was the respect shown to the strongest upon the path of cultivation.
Yet there was no fear.
No one believed