Beneath the dark starry sky, a gigantic old tree stood unmoving. From every branch hung strand after strand of vines, and at the bottom of each vine was an oval fruit of different color, like eggs, trembling faintly.
On one branch, a black-robed man was seated in meditation and cultivation. His white hair, scattered loose, was like snow, and there was a thin vertical slit on his forehead. His skin was so pale it had no trace of blood. The hem of his robe was very long, draped like willow catkins, fluttering in the wind. Three tails hung beneath his green garment—one like a dragon, one like a snake, and one like a lion.
Suddenly.
The black-robed man opened his eyes, his brows tightly furrowed, a look of startled doubt flashing through his gaze.
He subconsciously raised a hand and pressed it to his chest.
"What is going on? What is this feeling?"
The black-robed man muttered to himself, his tone carrying confusion.
He began casting a spell, and the vertical eye on his forehead opened as well, turning left and right as if searching for something.
However, no matter how he deduced, he could not find the source. He did not even discover anything abnormal about himself.
In the end, he could only give up.
He raised his head and looked into the depths of the void. The vertical eye on his forehead closed, and his two eyes were filled with deep meaning.
"Heavenly Emperor, it seems ending you will not be so simple."
The black-robed man muttered to himself, an eerie smile appearing on his face.
He raised his right hand, and in the distance, one fruit after another shook, swiftly fell off, then all crashed together and condensed into a wooden staff. Its tip was like a