Apart from those hundred wandering cultivators, Yang Citian and Hun Jiuyou, each seated within a massive chariot, were even more horrified. "Peak Eleventh Realm?! Impossible—this—absolutely impossible!"
"Ancient records state that the Heavenly Dao has sealed this age. The Tenth Realm is already the limit."
"Even ancient monsters cannot casually undergo ultimate sublimation and display power beyond the Tenth Realm."
"To such a mighty being, what are we if not ants?"
"Quick! Get out, quickly! We must not show any disrespect, or our lives will be forfeit!"
Clang~ Clang~
After two hurried sounds.
Yang Citian, the Sunflare Divine Lord, and Hun Jiuyou, the Nether Prison Underworld Venerable, could be seen.
Almost scrambling and crawling as they rushed out of their luxurious chariots.
All the pride and majesty on their bodies had vanished, leaving only boundless panic and reverence.
They did not even dare raise their heads to look directly at that figure in green. Like the other wandering cultivators, they bent deeply at the waist and stood trembling where they were, scarcely daring to breathe.
Zhang Sanxian, that peerless figure in green, calmly swept his gaze over the cultivators, who were as silent as cicadas in winter, before asking coldly, "How much longer until this ruin opens?"
Mad Butcher hurriedly stepped forward and answered respectfully, "Reporting to Senior, according to the patterns of the future, we need to wait roughly another twenty years."
Zhang Sanxian nodded slightly. "Good. Then I shall wait twenty years."
Then, his gaze swept across the entire scene once more.
This time, his eyes were filled with scrutiny.
Under Zhang Sanxian's keen perception, the baleful karma entwined around these cultivators had nowhere to hide.
Nearly every one of them was suffused with bloody light, resentment wrapped around their bodies. All of them had earned a death sentence.