Faced with the Three Tribes' resentful stares, Tongtian merely grinned faintly and gave a quiet chuckle. He ignored them completely, offering no explanation, response, or argument.
Now that his Path of Dao lay within reach and victory was assured, all old grudges had been wiped clean. He no longer needed to concern himself with anyone else's feelings.
In the farthest corner of the Great Hall, Jieyin and Zhunti stood bowed with their heads lowered, their faces ashen and grim, their expressions steeped in embarrassment, disgrace, and gloom.
Since the God Conferment, the Western Teach's auspicious qi had dwindled and its foundations had weakened. Time and again, it had missed the great shifts sweeping the heavens.
In this battle in Chaos, they had contributed nothing and watched from the sidelines throughout. Not only had they gained no fortune, but they had also witnessed the Interception Sect's powerful rise and the various opportunities gained by the saints of the Prehistoric Era. Only the Western Lands had grown ever weaker.
The two kept their heads firmly lowered, afraid to meet the gaze of any mighty cultivator. Silent and utterly disgraced, they looked painfully out of place amid the splendor filling the hall.
Clouds hung like curtains around Zixiao Palace in the Nine Heavens. Its stern Dao Resonance had remained unchanged through the ages. The entire Great Hall was silent and solemn, with only the supreme Heavenly Dao's oppressive aura weighing heavily upon all sides.
Just as the saints wrestled with their differing thoughts and hidden currents stirred within the hall, Hongjun raised his eyes slightly from the Lotus Throne on the dais. An invisible, supreme pressure abruptly spread around him.
He needed neither anger nor effort to speak with the Dao Ancestor's heavenly might. His cold, majestic voice thundered through the entire Zixiao