Realizing this, Pei Ling immediately decided that, to be safe, he needed to confirm it once more!
So he said in an icy voice, "The Heavenly Tribulation is false. The world is false."
"Death is false, too!"
As he spoke, his gaze shifted, carrying a thousand shades of chilling malice, and fell upon "Guang."
The next moment, "Guang's" body began to rot.
Pus and blood bubbled from the wounds, and countless spiteful faces, each no bigger than a fingernail, fought to emerge. In the blink of an eye, they covered the Nine-tailed Fox from head to toe.
At the same time, waves of cold, grating laughter rang out: "Hee hee hee... hee hee..."
This was Zhou's inheritance, the Myriad Soul Curse!
Back when he had still been a cultivator, this curse had been immensely powerful. But now, he had become an Immortal King. His immortal arts, laws, the Great Dao of "Origin," and even his immortal office all far surpassed the power of such a mundane technique.
However, he was not using this curse to kill his opponent!
After all, if the one discussing the Dao with him was truly the Dragon King Fu Yuan, then even the strongest curse wielded by the Lord of the Netherworld could not threaten Fu Yuan in the slightest, let alone a curse from the lower realm!
As his thoughts raced, Pei Ling's aura shifted. It was as though a cloud of mist had appeared out of nowhere, enveloping him completely.
The mist was thick and ancient, suffused with a sense of age, depth, darkness, and desolation...
In an instant, the source of every laugh in the board game appeared before him.
Pei Ling soon saw a scene: in Qingqiu, dense forests surrounded vast expanses of rippling mist, boundless and dreamlike. As the lake