That man—Shijia paid him no mind. At this moment, all his attention was fixed upon the sword in the other's hand. That was the source of danger he had sensed.
In his eyes, it was no sword at all, but the blood and bones of the earth, the vicissitudes of the human path!
The earth roared at this moment, the firmament churned, and the cries of ancient forebears pierced through the ages to echo in the present.
A dreadful sensation arose within Shijia's heart.
It was not that he had developed fear. After countless years of cultivation, the strength of his spirit, his will, and his heart was beyond question.
Dread was a sensation; fear was an emotion. One described an outward phenomenon, the other an inner state. The two could not be confused.
At this moment, Shijia sensed the aura of calamity. This was a cause he had planted ages ago, and now that cause had borne fruit—but it was no good cause yielding a good result.
Ages ago, a spark of his spiritual light had entered the mortal world through reincarnation, seeking to attain the supreme realm through this. Yet the earth had obscured him, and he had returned empty-handed.
Of course, he had not done nothing. He had passed down Brahma teachings upon the earth.
He and the Dao Patriarch had descended into the world at almost the same time. One passed down Dao teachings, the other Buddhist teachings. To cultivators in the mortal world, their merit had undoubtedly been boundless, opening the immortal road for all living beings.
But the reality was that both Dao and Brahma were thieves, stealing destiny to achieve their own immortality.
Their Brahma teachings and Dao teachings had been forged by intercepting the great fortune of culture and martial arts.
Had