"This table of the mortal world."
"Has already been divided into two ends."
Zhao Xuan's words fell.
On the Clear Gate Register, the words [Chaoge] and [Xiqi] did not disperse.
They hovered beside the mortal world's position.
One to the east.
One to the west.
Between them lay that streak of gray-white list qi.
As the list qi steamed upward, an indescribable killing intent faintly seeped through.
Holy Mother Guiling stared at those words, her voice turning cold.
"Two place names."
"Can even those be written into the accounts of the investiture of the gods?"
Zhao Xuan looked at the Investiture Table without setting his brush down at once.
First, he let the immortals look.
Look at Chaoge.
Look at Xiqi.
Look at how those two place names pressed firmly against either side of the mortal world's position.
Only after a moment did he speak.
"If they were merely place names, no."
"If they were written as two ends, yes."
Daoist Duobao frowned.
"Two ends?"
Zhao Xuan said:
"Chaoge represents the old."
"Xiqi represents the new."
"The old must end."
"The new must rise."
"Once there is old and new, rise and fall can be assigned."
"Once there is rise and fall, obedience and defiance can be assigned."
With every sentence he spoke, the pale azure flame on the Clear Gate Register grew a degree colder.
His words were not abstruse.
Yet they carried more weight than any mystery.
Because this was no guess.
He was dismantling that table's workings before the immortals' eyes.
Holy Mother Jinling's gaze darkened.
"Wen Zhong is in Chaoge."
Those words bore down.
Several Outer Sect disciples before the hall instinctively looked toward the Clear Gate Register.
Beneath Wen Zhong's name, that strand of mortal destiny remained.
It had been pressed a foot aside.
But