A God King had died just like that.
He had died without rhyme or reason, without the slightest ability to resist.
A bone-chilling cold swept through everyone in an instant.
The red-clad bride's figure slowly faded, as though melting into the air, then vanished. Yet the icy resentment and sense of being watched, lurking everywhere, only grew heavier.
"R-Rules..." An older black-robed elder in the Holy Heaven Sect's group spoke in a dry voice. "This is a high-level resentment desolate realm. It has its own rules of death. Brute-force attacks trigger those rules—certain death!"
Chu Jiang, meanwhile, focused all his attention on communicating with the Past Mirror in his palm. The bloody mist upon its surface churned even more violently.
The blood mist on the mirror suddenly contracted inward, then burst open into a clear image.
But the image flickered far too quickly. Moreover, seemingly due to their presence within the ghost bride's core zone, it suffered intense interference, revealing only fragmented snippets:
A lively yellow-clad young girl with a small mole on the side of her neck fiddled with jars, bottles, and black gunpowder, her smile blooming like a flower...
The girl gathered petals amid flowerbeds, carefully distilled them, and produced a fragrant liquid...
The girl burned the midnight oil reading at her desk, books piled high beside her. At times she frowned; at others, her face lit up in a smile...
The girl stood shoulder to shoulder beneath the moon with a young man dressed in fine robes. He held her hand, seemingly making some promise. She lowered her head with a faint smile, the red mole on her neck distinctly visible...
The final image was a sky-filling crimson, a blinding red, accompanied by a shriek brimming with endless despair and hatred...
The images ended abruptly.
The Past