Huang Tian watched the violet-glowing thread stretch across the void toward him, and all kinds of guesses rose in his mind.
Steadying himself, he nodded to the Great Luo beings, then stepped toward the Sovereign Yellow Primordial Realm he had created. In the blink of an eye, he vanished into the chaos.
The Great Luo beings exchanged glances. Some looked regretful, others thoughtful, and they dispersed in twos and threes.
"Fellow Daoist Luo Hou, do you believe Fellow Daoist Huang spoke the truth?" the Styx Patriarch asked, catching up with Luo Hou amid a layer of clouds.
Luo Hou looked back with a chuckle. "True or false, what difference does it make? Don't tell me you're thinking of causing trouble for him over an opportunity above Great Luo that might not even exist."
How could they provoke someone who had overpowered the Three Pure Ones together?
The Styx Patriarch was unconvinced. "Why not? Great Luo beings cannot die. He won't die, and neither will we. What is there to fear?"
Luo Hou glanced at him. "You'll behave yourself once you've been suppressed for endless epochs."
Death was not frightening. Being sealed away without a glimpse of daylight, unable even to move—that was frightening.
Even Great Luo beings were unwilling to endure such torment. That was why they avoided tearing away all pretense and fighting to the bitter end. Leave a little room in all things, and it would be easier to meet again someday.
If they were truly furious, they could use an alternate identity, put on a disguise, and have it out. Win, and they could vent their anger; lose, and they would simply have to accept it.
The Styx Patriarch argued, "I can't be the only one tempted by that opportunity. If we invite a dozen or so