"Am I going to die?"
Li Qingyuan watched as the three-foot blood-red Breathing Soil came suppressing down. Though it was only three feet across, it seemed like an entire world had locked onto them, binding them firmly in place and leaving them unable to move.
He believed the Primordial Spirit Body's words. Facing this attack, even Nascent Soul Cultivators would be helpless—certain death.
In the instant before death, countless thoughts surfaced in Li Qingyuan's mind.
So transmigrators were not necessarily Heaven's favored sons, nor masters of fortune.
So even obtaining a spatial cheat was merely gaining an opportunity on the path of seeking immortality. An opportunity was not the same as an immortal opportunity.
Man proposes, Heaven disposes. No matter how powerful a prodigy or cultivator was, there would be times when they were powerless to turn the tide.
Whether mortal or cultivator, all who failed to become immortals would ultimately die. Only the manner of death differed.
His thoughts were chaotic and tangled, his emotions in turmoil beyond control.
All kinds of thoughts surged forth in an instant, a hundred feelings intertwined.
Father, Mother, Yuan'er has been unfilial.
Xian'er, Xiao Feng—my Bloodline Inheritance...
Those thoughts sounded complicated and lengthy, but they had all erupted in but an instant, filling Li Qingyuan's mind.
With a boom, the three-foot blood soil came crashing down, striking Li Qingyuan between the brows.
Yet the instant death Li Qingyuan had imagined—the shattering of his divine consciousness, his body turning into a mist of blood, his soul scattering and reforming—did not occur. He was still perfectly alive.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
Within the human body's upper dantian, beneath the Divine Court Acupoint between his brows, his Mud Pill Palace continuously buzzed. More precisely, the "Mysterious Feminine Gate," which had fused as one with his Mud Pill