The white ocean of the Land of Origin kept collapsing under Stone Ridge Mountain's grinding force. The wreckage of the Causal Enlightenment Tree that Chu Qing had crushed underfoot turned into golden wood shavings that filled the sky, but instead of dispersing, they seemed steeped in some invisible, higher-dimensional ink, forcibly reassembling in midair.
Those once-holy contract fragments, under the manipulation of several Scribe Elders, actually twisted into countless "Verdicts" bearing mocking, smiling faces.
"Chu Qing, though you possess the body of a progenitor, you have no name among the immortals."
"Judgment: your entire life is an 'illegal load.' Your existence is the greatest logical loophole."
At the end of the shadows in the Hall of the Scribe, three elders all offered up a Fate-Judging Immortal Pen with a fully transparent body, yet dark red blood flowing within it. The moment this pen appeared, the immortal spiritual qi throughout the Land of Origin instantly congealed, turning into an enormous sheet of xuan paper that covered hundreds of millions of miles, locking Stone Ridge Mountain firmly in the center of the white paper.
Barefoot, Chu Qing stood steadily atop the dragon ship's ram. He could feel the surrounding space rapidly thinning, and that "dimensional reduction" pressure made the True Blood of the Inverse Dragon within him unleash waves of savage roars.
"Illegal load?"
Chu Qing gave a cold laugh. The Overlord Spear in his right hand struck down at his feet, and purple arcs of fire instantly burned a pitch-black hole through a page of white paper beneath him.
"When I crawled out of the mire, even this sky didn't dare judge my fate. You think you can decide whether I live or die with one rotten pen?"
The three elders wasted no words. Their immortal pen moved like a dragon