In the depths of the Cang Sea stood a solitary island, its rugged mountains jagged and perilous.
Its name was Charnel Mountain.
Si Liang, Evil Immortal Emperor Lord, stood... in his own domain, within his own palace. He even kept his head slightly bowed, his gaze fixed on his boots rather than daring to look ahead.
As the sole corpse cultivator Emperor Lord of the Cang Sea—perhaps the only corpse cultivator at the pinnacle remaining across all heavens and myriad worlds—Si Liang had always possessed a foul temper. When had he ever been this humble?
It was only because a dazzling man sat upon the Emperor Lord's throne that had originally belonged to him.
This exalted being was born splendid and majestic, with golden hair and golden eyes, and a pair of golden dragon horns upon his forehead, as though cast from pure gold.
He possessed a sense of glory unlike any other, nobler than all existence. Naturally, he was worthy of Si Liang lowering his head.
The Cang Sea's Heavenly Dao was like a mass of dark clouds, like cloud-shaped cast iron, crashing straight down upon one's heart.
Even one such as Si Liang could not help but feel repressed and uneasy. He could not grasp the turbulence in the Celestial Path Sea, did not dare peer closely into conflicts at the level of Transcendence, had no idea what was about to happen—and yet held a certain pessimism toward the Sea Race's future—
Since that battle, pessimists had become the majority.
The voice from the throne was equally melancholy. "Eternity truly is lonely!"
"Your friends, your enemies, even merely some names you have heard of—they all gradually vanish into history."
He leaned desolately against the imperial throne, like a figure receding ever farther into the distance. "Had Ksitigarbha not