The stone gate opened inward without a sound.
The depths of the underground palace looked just as they had before Zhou Xuan left.
The power of creation stretched into an emerald-green net of light, enclosing the entire stone bed. Ji Chen lay in its center, breathing steadily, his vitality locked tight without a trace escaping. His face was still white, utterly bloodless, like paper left sitting too long.
Zhou Xuan stood beside the bed without leaning closer or reaching out.
He simply watched.
In his two eyes, one gray-gold and the other pure black, the killing intent and coldness stirred up in the Ten Thousand Dao Graveyard had sunk into the depths. On the surface, they were perfectly clear, revealing nothing.
There was no Divine Lord in his mind, no false Heavenly Dao, and no throne.
Only the face before him, so white it held no sign of life.
Zhou Xuan raised his right hand, palm up. The Brass Key, stained with black blood, rested there, cold enough to sting.
His five fingers slowly closed, gripping the key tightly.
The metal edges dug into his palm. There was no pain, only the firm pressure of them biting into flesh.
He turned and walked out without looking back, his steps never pausing.
Unity Continent, the formation core of the earth vein core.
"I can't hold on-"
Old Ancestor Xuanming's voice was already utterly hoarse when he shouted. He knelt on one knee, his Daoist robe shredded by energy, black blood pouring from his seven orifices and soaking his chest. His eyes remained fixed on the endlessly pulsing energy core at the center of the Formation Disk. He had run out of options.
Emperor Jiang Wu stood opposite him, little better off.
His long sword was wedged into a crack in