Ancestor Minghe grew more and more excited as he watched, his eyes burning crimson, wisps of black baleful energy winding through the depths of his pupils. The Fifteen Hundred Years Immortal Calamity, which should have disturbed only mortals, had originally posed no threat whatsoever to quasi-saints.
But now the calamity energy had suddenly surged, thick as ink, dragging even quasi-saint-level experts into its midst, leaving them nowhere to hide.
Within the Primal Zixiao Palace, the Dao Ancestor's figure silently appeared atop the high platform. Gazing at the baleful clouds churning like tides over the Earthly Immortal Realm, so dense they seemed impossible to disperse, he furrowed his brows deeply and let out a long sigh. "Variables... have ultimately become a chaotic situation. Those who sever the Three Corpses should have transcended the calamity, yet complications arose anyway. Sigh..."
He unfurled the Asura Treasure Banner once more. Its pink surface billowed in the wind, and in an instant, peach-colored mist spread everywhere, carrying a sweet fragrance. The Pink Mist was like gauze, covering a thousand miles.
Graceful silhouettes appeared within the mist. One peerless beauty after another stepped out in gauzy garments as thin as cicada wings: their breasts half-covered, their slender waists narrow enough to grasp in one hand, their full hips slightly raised. As they moved with delicate lotus steps, their sleeves fluttered, and irresistible allure radiated from every movement.
Their warbling voices and soft laughter drifted like threads of silk as they giggled and surrounded them.
Each coquettish moan and tender murmur burrowed straight into the depths of the bones, stirring the most primal desires. Every man present flushed red, breathed heavily, his eyes bloodshot as his Adam's apple bobbed.
Whether it was an ugly and ferocious Asura or a human on the verge of collapse, the moment