Kong Qiu hovered quietly in the void. His dull, vacant eyes suddenly gleamed with a spark of light. It was as though a ray of sunshine had pierced the deepest darkness before dawn. The spark grew brighter, little by little, until in the blink of an eye, its scattered rays converged into an ocean of laws. The power of those laws enveloped the entire Taiji World.
Xuanjiao was dumbfounded. What kind of power was this? It was the power of Heaven and Earth.
Kong Qiu moved his hands, and the entire valley rumbled and changed. A misty peak slowly rose, covered with exotic flowers and plants, emerald pines, and ancient cypresses. A hazy bank of clouds enveloped the mountain. In an instant, a barren valley had become a beautiful mountain landscape.
This was no longer a supernatural ability wielded by a cultivator, but a Daoist art—a technique that acted directly upon the power of the Heaven and Earth Rules, changing the laws governing this place.
Several figures outside the valley also felt this immense pressure. They had merely happened to be there, but even they were forcibly suppressed by this overwhelming power.
One of them was engulfed in surging streams of chaotic light. Wisps of chaos qi roiled like a raging sea, yet before this peerless power of the laws, they were pathetically weak, seeming on the verge of shattering at any moment.
The figure within the chaotic currents gritted his teeth and held on. His knees had already bent deeply, but a conviction in his heart kept him struggling to stand. He could not kneel. He was the ruler of the Three Realms.
His bloodshot eyes gleamed fiercely. The sound of his bones cracking rang out, yet he still held on. The two figures beside him had long since