The light curtain slowly faded away.
The area around the altar fell into deathly silence.
The Witch and Ao Tong remained silent for a long time, their chests feeling as if a boulder had been pressed against them, its weight so oppressive they could hardly breathe.
The truth was too cruel.
At the end of the Immortal Ancient Era, such a bloodcurdling story had been hidden behind it all.
The hero had shed blood and tears, only to die horribly at the hands of those he had protected.
"So that's..."
The Witch took a deep breath. Her voice was a little hoarse. "This is what they call an immortal?"
Her gaze sharpened as she recalled the distinctive Bronze Immortal Palace in the vision.
"If I'm not mistaken, that Bronze Hall... should be the Ancestral Artifact of the behemoth from the Upper Realm known as the Immortal Hall, right? In that case, the Withered Immortal Ancestor of the Immortal Hall was one of the people who ambushed the Kunpeng back then?"
"That's right."
Ye Xuan, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke.
His voice was quiet, but as cold as ten-thousand-year-old ice. The temperature around them instantly plummeted.
Ye Xuan raised his head, his gaze seeming to pierce the void and fix on the lofty Immortal Hall in the Upper Realm.
"They struck down a meritorious hero for the sake of the Kunpeng's legacy and their so-called interests."
"That's the true face of those lofty True Immortals."
Ye Xuan reached out and gently stroked the cold shaft of the Heavenly Desolation Halberd.
"Heh."
A cold laugh echoed through the empty nest.
"The Withered Immortals' crimes are too numerous to record."
"The seeds they sowed back then should bear fruit now."
Ye Xuan turned and looked at the two women,