"Surely you jest, fellow Daoist. Who doesn't long for immortality?"
The Dark Cult Immortal supporting Wang Jixuan curled his lip, his eyes full of impatience.
But then he realized something was off.
Why was the person beside him asking such a question? This fellow was badly injured, looking as though that terrifying magical artifact from earlier had drained all his immortal power. How could he be asking this?
Then, the Daoist became somewhat dazed. He forgot to question it, and a longing for the Life and Death Gate rose in his heart, accompanied by an unavoidable gloom.
If he had not had no hope of advancing into the Golden Immortal Realm, why would he have submitted to the Dark Cult and sold his life for that Heavenly Dao Tablet?
"Do you truly wish to attain immortality?"
A bitter expression appeared on the Daoist's face, and his eyes were filled with self-mocking laughter.
He forgot that he did not need to answer this question. Nor did he notice anything unusual about the person he was supporting. He had sunk into a certain emotion.
Immortality. All this cultivation, all these regrets—wasn't it all for immortality? Wasn't it all to rise above others and earn a place among the Immortal Realm Experts?
Among Heavenly Immortals, there were naturally those extraordinary enough to stun the world, but a Heavenly Immortal's Lifespan was ultimately limited. Time flowed on, years passed like a shuttle—what traces could one leave behind in heaven and earth? How many people would acknowledge one's Dao Fruit? Let alone in this Immortal Realm where people devoured people and immortals killed immortals, where the grudges and karma he carried could no longer be resolved.
After a vast and desolate lifetime, what could one seek? Nothing more than immortality and freedom.
But where was