Heavenly Dao Invests in Red, Mysterious Fate

The Heavenly Dao had never considered itself arrogant; it had simply misjudged how rotten a certain Old Sixth could be.

Yes, Hong Yun, you really were fucking rotten!

Heavenly Dao Hongjun's face was twisted and savage, yet inwardly he was roaring, roaring, and roaring again without stop.

If, back when Hong Yun had first come to Purple Cloud Palace to Listen to the Dao, it had killed him then and there, would the Primordial Wasteland not have become so vividly stained?

Hong Yun, Hongjun, Nuwa, Houtu...

The very strongest Saint Realm powers of the Primordial Wasteland had gathered in Purple Cloud Palace, standing in unison opposite it, and the aura they condensed was enough to shake the Primordial Wasteland...

No, it should be said that it was enough to shake Chaos.

That vast, boundless pressure forced the Heavenly Dao to retreat involuntarily, its feet making sounds against the ground as it backed up more than ten steps in a row.

At that moment, the Heavenly Dao asked itself from the heart.

Was This Dao wrong?

No, This Dao was not wrong. What was wrong was this Red Wasteland.

Though it said as much, there was not the slightest trace of resolve in its purple eyes; instead, they were filled with hesitation.

The Heavenly Dao very much wanted to cast everything aside and fight these traitorous rebels against heaven to the death.

But after so many years of being used to hiding in the dark and scheming against everything, it no longer knew when it had already lost the courage to risk its life.

Hong Yun, what exactly do you intend?

The Heavenly Dao pressed down the fury in its heart, and only after a long while did it spit out that one sentence.

It was utterly stifled, yet also utterly