These four words drifted from Xu Kun's bloodstained lips as lightly as a feather, yet they struck the hearts of everyone present with the weight of a thousand jun!
All the women, whether as composed as Yue Chan'er or among the other Twelve Moon Maidens, instantly went pale, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.
No matter how they thought about it, they could not understand how The Lord, who had merely been deducing the past related to Yuan Huang'er's assassination attempt, had come into contact with something as earth-shattering as "Myriad Races' Doom"—a terrifying vision that seemed to exist only in ancient prophecies or the depths of nightmares.
Yet before anyone could voice the doubts and terror filling their hearts, the wan Xu Kun laboriously raised a hand in a stopping gesture. He slowly shook his head, each movement seeming to exhaust all his strength, his voice hoarse like sandpaper scraping:
"Ask not... Think not..."
Just four short words, yet they carried a suffocating heaviness and weariness, as though burdened with an unspeakable taboo.
At once, everyone clamped their mouths shut, forcibly suppressing all their questions and shock deep within their hearts. However, the way they looked at Xu Kun was now filled with even deeper concern and reverence.
Xu Kun leaned against the throne and slowly closed his eyes, though they did not seem to shut completely. His bloodstained eyelashes trembled faintly.
Through that narrow slit, one could glimpse the depths of his eyes, seemingly shrouded in an impenetrably dense mist of chaos. What they reflected was no longer his usual depth and wisdom, but an unprecedented, almost hollow bewilderment and... a faint trace of alarm that perhaps even he himself had not noticed.
Merely uttering the four words "Myriad Races' Doom" had already subjected him to an