The long-dried Vast Ocean lay bare, its cracked trenches exposed.
In midair, fierce winds howled like enraged beasts, whipping up yellow sand that filled the sky.
Huang Luan stood amid the wind and sand like a ghost, his robes snapping loudly. His face was cold and stern, his eyes as deep as an abyss, burning with a fire of hatred that had not gone out even after centuries. Tempered by the passage of time, that hatred had not diminished in the slightest. Instead, it had grown richer and fiercer like strong wine.
Opposite him, Fang Xuan, who had originally worn white robes, was now soaked through with foul blood. His gaze was complicated. The backlash from the Heavenly Flame Art made even standing in the air a struggle.
Yet faced with Fang Xuan in such a miserable state, Huang Luan did not strike a killing blow. Instead, a trace of shock and wariness appeared in his eyes as he stared fixedly above Fang Xuan's head.
Above Fang Xuan's head, Di Jun stood in white robes, calmly looking at Huang Luan. The two had originally come from the same source, and now that they faced each other, the scene was particularly strange.
"Impossible. This is impossible. You were clearly torn apart by the Source World's order. There can't possibly be any remnant of your soul left!" Huang Luan stared at Di Jun and extended a hand. Dense demonic power surged rapidly throughout his body.
He did not attack, but Di Jun's appearance had clearly made him extremely wary!
Di Jun tilted his head slightly upward. His gaze pierced through the wind and sand that filled the heavens and met Huang Luan's directly, his expression calm. "What you know of the wondrous uses of the Qiankun Talisman is no more than the