The punch of Formless Emperor stopped in mid-air.
That extremely faint and thin gray light condensed into a tiny world within his palm.
Inside, there was a boundless starry sky, a boundless wasteland, a boundless ocean, and all things not yet formed.
They were compressed into that punch like a sun not yet ignited.
"You said earlier, 'If you hear the Dao in the morning, you may die in the evening'?" Formless Emperor spoke, his voice carrying a calm polished to the extreme by the passing of years.
"Yet this seat has lived for ten thousand years, and seen countless people say this sentence. But before they died, not one of them failed to regret it."
"That is because they only said it for others to hear." Zhang Chu stood thirty thousand zhang away, dark golden patterns all over his body flowing slowly like a reignited river, "I said it for myself to hear."
Formless Emperor's gaze fell on the expanding silver crack on his forehead, lingering for two breaths.
Then he smiled.
That smile was deeper and more genuine than any time before.
"Good."
With a single word uttered, his figure moved.
That punch was neither fast nor slow, neither heavy nor light.
Emanating from Formless Emperor's palm, it was like a newly born world peeling away from its mother body, carrying an aura that did not belong to this era.
"Boom!..."
The entire Stele Forest fell silent at that very instant.
Those Martial Dao Intents awakened for too long sank back into the depths of the stele faces at the exact same moment, like countless subjects paying homage who suddenly heard the footsteps of their king, and thus all lowered their heads.
On the gray earth, only that ray of light remained in motion.
Zhang Chu watched that