The Death of Yan Lie

The face within the rune suddenly opened its eyes.

Those eyes were black as an abyss, with no whites—only two bottomless black holes.

The face looked at Chu Ming, the corners of its mouth lifting into a smile.

The smile was faint, yet it carried a crushing pressure that made one's heart tremble.

"An interesting junior." He spoke in an aged, icy voice, like a whisper drifting up from the depths of an ancient glacier. "I'll remember you." Chu Ming met his gaze, his expression calm.

"Yan Yuan?"

The face paused slightly, then smiled.

There was approval in that smile, but also regret.

"Worthy indeed of being the inheritor of the Chaos Order Dao Seed. Thirty thousand years have passed, and someone still remembers my name."

He looked at Chu Ming, his gaze as deep as an abyss.

"This one has cultivated in seclusion for thirty thousand years. The outside world believed this one dead. I never expected that today, I would meet an interesting junior in such a manner." Chu Ming said nothing.

Yan Yuan continued, "It seems my worthless disciple is incapable of getting anything done. So be it. This one will come personally."

He paused, and his smile became deeply suggestive.

"The thing deep within the seal is waiting for you, isn't it? Very good. This one is waiting as well."

"Waiting for what?" Chu Ming asked.

Yan Yuan did not answer.

He merely looked at Chu Ming. Within those black-hole-like eyes, an inscrutable gleam flashed.

"Waiting for an opportunity."

As his words fell, the rune exploded with a thunderous boom!

The explosion's power was terrifying beyond measure, but under the suppression of the [Chaos Order Realm], it became only a violently roiling cloud of black smoke, dispersing completely after three breaths.

Silence returned to the tent.