Suddenly, an ancient hall appeared out of thin air. It was utterly plain, without carvings or adornments, yet it seemed to bear the backbone of the Great Dao spanning countless ages.
Faint ripples stirred in the Chaos, as though a speck of dust had been tossed into the water.
There were no waves without wind—the depths of the Chaos suddenly erupted into a violent gale that came howling forth!
In an instant, the dead silence shattered. The Chaos boiled, enormous waves surged into the heavens, collided, compressed, and exploded against one another.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The muffled booms were like thunder. Earth, fire, wind, and water surged forth; astral gales shrieked; dark lightning exploded. The entire Chaos seethed completely, turbulent currents raging and World-Destroying.
Looking again at the ancient hall, every brick and tile, every blade of grass and leaf, subtly accorded with the trajectories of the Heavenly Dao. It appeared crude and simple, yet was actually filled with profound mysteries. Anyone who gazed upon it would lose themselves, wishing they could prostrate themselves and seek the Dao.
The three divine-script characters "Zixiao Palace" hung above the hall's entrance. Each character was like a Dao embryo newly formed, condensed with the true meaning of the Dao's resonance that Hongjun had comprehended throughout his life.
Even the Zhou Tian Saint could gain insight by analogy from quietly observing these three characters, suddenly comprehend one or two things, and advance in cultivation as naturally as water flowing along its course.
Upon the raised platform, without a sound or sign, an old man dressed in purple robes quietly materialized.
His beard and hair were white as snow, and his features were gentle. Yet the aura around him was like the vault of heaven descending, imposing and impossible to approach. The slightest offense seemed