When Huang Tian forcibly resisted the pull of the Dead Realm and startled Zhu Yong awake, countless mighty beings throughout the boundless Sea of Chaos were disturbed.
Above a great world shaped like an egg, a middle-aged Daoist in purple robes and a jade crown stroked his short beard, uncertainty on his face. "Was that the Supreme evil being sending a trace of power across the vast sea of stars? Is he about to awaken? How could it be so soon?"
Beside him stood a Daoist nun in plain robes. She frowned and calculated on her fingers, wondrous ripples swirling around them. At last, she shook her head and sighed. "The gap between our levels is too great. I can neither calculate nor discern it clearly. But judging by the number of worlds affected by the Black Sea—that is, the number of Dead Realms—we can roughly estimate that his awakening is not yet due. At the very least, it should take several hundred thousand more years.
"But that aura just now was unmistakably real. Someone must have disturbed him. I wonder what they did to startle him awake, if only for an instant, from such a long slumber."
She paused, then turned to him. "Fellow Daoist Xuan Su, Zhu Yong's return cannot be stopped. Though he has lain fallen and asleep for countless ages, he will come back. That is the tide of events. Not even another being of his level could prevent his return.
"All we can do is resist the Black Sea's encroachment and reduce the number of Dead Realms, delaying him a little. But that, too, is wasted effort. What is destined cannot be changed."
Immortal Lord Xuan Su swept his horsetail whisk. "Even so, each day his awakening is delayed is one day less of suffering