At Mythical Center No. 2, a group of True Saints tensed. Having dwelled in this Mythical Center epoch after epoch, they had never known that its shadowed side was suppressing something beyond all bounds.
They turned around, their expressions grave as they stared intently, trying to see the truth. But it was too dark there; only some vague outlines were visible, as though a cover were moving.
Shou looked calm. "This is rather precarious. The coffin lid beneath your Mythical Center can no longer hold it down."
He spoke in the mildest tone, yet his words made even a small number of Supreme Beings from Mythical Center No. 2 feel their scalps go numb.
The crucial point was that none of Mythical Center No. 2's True Saints had ever experienced such a change. Their minds were unsettled. Could it be that their entire Mythical Source had been suppressing something?
Yun Ling's expression was far from pleasant. Looking toward Mythical Center No. 1, he said, "The Pale Big Hand beneath you has revealed its outline. Those black chains may not be able to bind it."
"Understood." Shou nodded.
Yun Ling found it hard to believe. He dearly wanted to ask: You're this calm? You have nothing else to say?
In fact, on Mythical Center No. 1's side, the group of True Saints did not rise. They remained seated cross-legged, absorbing Dao Rhymes and pondering the difficult problems along the path of the supernatural.
The other Supernatural Practitioners had been somewhat restless at first, but in the end, they too focused on cultivation, looking as though time waited for no one as they fought bravely against heaven for a chance to break through.
To the Supernatural Practitioners of Mythical Center No. 2, the cultivators of Mythical Center No. 1 possessed nerves of