"Has it broken? Has it broken?"
Wu Jing was undoubtedly one of the cultivators with his eyes closed.
Though he was asking, Lin Shuangmu doubted that, in such circumstances, his ears could still receive any sound.
Lin Shuangmu, on the other hand, had watched from beginning to end.
Hermit Guangwei placed a stone, pressing close against his own formation. He made an utterly ordinary diagonal move, poised to emerge yet not emerging.
A slow move!
How could it be a slow move?
Lin Shuangmu's confusion was swiftly swept away by volcanic cheers.
The entire Xi Yu Lake seemed to have boiled over, with cheering crowds in every direction.
Wu Jing and the cultivator who had interjected embraced outright. The old Daoist raised his arms and shouted, then stroked his beard and laughed loudly.
In Lin Shuangmu's memory, only the scene at the beginning of this tribulation—when the Great Tribulation of Heaven and Earth had been confirmed to have passed, and surviving cultivators wept with joy—could securely surpass such a spectacle.
This was far too exaggerated!
Yet very soon, as the key figure amid the clouds—Heavenly Monarch Yuanxu—smiled faintly, the lake abruptly fell silent again.
Yu Ci placed his stone directly. The twelfth aperture!
The talismanic form finally appeared.
"It's twelve apertures!"
Someone shouted, but in the blink of an eye, silence returned. A faint chill settled over the lake—not in the atmosphere, but because at that instant, the clouds in the sky had already drawn together, hiding the blazing noonday sun behind them, leaving only a halo and a faint golden rim.
Lin Shuangmu blinked. He did not know whether it was an illusion, but at this moment, because the gathered clouds varied in thickness and in how much light they let through, they gained layers and depth in the