The chaos before them churned without end, and an unspoken thought that neither dared voice rose in Su Yang and Yang Mei's hearts.
Could it be... that it was truly about to reappear? Su Yang's heart trembled silently.
This speculation was still like viewing flowers through fog, impossible to distinguish truth from illusion. Only when the truth revealed a corner of itself could everything finally settle.
At that moment, the peerlessly graceful and gentle-as-jade Great Immortal Yang Mei quietly knitted his brows with gloom. He turned toward Su Yang. "Fellow Daoist, if the chaos truly gives birth to another race apart from us..."
Su Yang's brows drew together. "Brother Daoist, speak freely."
Yang Mei raised his head toward the depths of the chaos, his voice low and distant. "Before heaven and earth were separated and before primordial chaos opened, the Three Thousand Demon Gods roamed the chaos and reigned supreme for countless ages. How haughty we were, how free and unrestrained!"
He paused briefly, a trace of desolation flashing through his eyes. "But we were born too exalted, with foundations of the Dao too profound. We comprehended the Great Dao of Origins and cultivated divine techniques of Fortune... Yet who could say whether that was why we violated the Great Dao's taboo, bringing down that soul-burning tribulation and forcing three thousand siblings to slaughter one another?"
When the chaos was first born, the Three Thousand Demon Gods had emerged from the same source, truly like twin brothers whose auras were linked.
Yang Mei lowered his eyes, his voice slightly hoarse. "And the result? For the sake of a baseless prophecy and the illusory position of 'the only one,' we actually turned our weapons against each other, staining the chaos with blood."
Hongjun's heart jolted, and he immediately understood what Yang