Ming He bowed once more to Bei Ming and the Reincarnation Old Ancestor, then turned and left the hall.
Beyond the Changbai Mountain Range, the Sea of Clouds churned as the cold wind howled.
Ming He transformed into a dark crimson streak of light, tearing across the sky as he headed straight for the Blood Sea.
On his way back to the Blood Sea, this journey left Ming He feeling more at peace.
It was no longer the restless agitation of one living alone in the depths of the Blood Sea, but a tranquility with direction.
He recalled traveling all the way to Zixiao Palace in pursuit of the Dao, only to find no chance of becoming a saint.
He had followed Nüwa's example and created a race, yet his Dao-Proving had failed.
The Asura Race had been born from the Blood Sea, its killing intent reaching the heavens, yet it had won no response.
He had followed the Three Pure Ones' example and established a religion, yet his Dao-Proving had failed.
The Asura Religion had dealt in slaughter, killing heaven, earth, and all living beings, while Heaven and Earth remained silent.
Those two consecutive failures had dealt Ming He no small blow. He often sat alone in the Blood Abyss, staring at the endless crimson expanse in silence.
But after failing twice, he would try a third time!
Even if opposing the West this time carried risks, if he could not prove the Dao, then even surviving until the Immeasurable Calamity would lose much of its meaning.
Rather than remain trapped in the Blood Sea through endless years, he would rather gamble everything on one battle.
Great Void Palace, main hall.
The Reincarnation Old Ancestor stroked his beard and sighed. "Among cultivators of the Primordial Wilderness, who does not