The Netherworld Patriarch's mind went utterly blank in that instant.
A Tribulation Immortal.
A living Tribulation Immortal.
He had spent thousands of years and exhausted countless sinister methods, even turning himself into something half human and half ghost. Wasn't the realm before his eyes the very thing he had been pursuing?
He had once believed himself only a step away from that door. Only today did he discover, in despair, that this single step was a heavenly chasm.
It was absolute suppression on the level of life itself, a difference in the very dimension of the Dao.
Before a true Tribulation Immortal, a so-called half-step Tribulation Immortal like him was no different from a slightly stronger ant.
"S-Senior..."
The Netherworld Patriarch struggled to squeeze the word from his throat. Those two balls of sickly green ghost fire flickered violently, filled with pleading and terror.
He wanted to beg for mercy, to explain, to say that this was all a misunderstanding.
But he discovered that he couldn't even open his mouth.
The surrounding space seemed to have become eternal ice, freezing him firmly in place. Not even a thread of divine sense could escape.
He could only watch helplessly as that white-robed figure approached him with the other two, strolling as leisurely as though through a courtyard.
Everyone on Immortal Burial Cliff held their breath.
The Netherworld Patriarch, whose monstrous ferocity had seemed ready to drag all of Shushan into the deepest reaches of the Underworld, now hung motionless in midair like a chick held by the neck.
That ridiculous sight formed an absurd contrast with the terrifying might he had exuded earlier.
Grand Elder Wuxing's Adam's apple bobbed. The elders behind him didn't even dare raise their heads.
Was this a Tribulation Immortal?
His words became law; his thoughts stirred