When the poor, tend to oneself

"Hah—"

Ancestor Shen Shan fell from the sea of clouds. Though he was a Great Luo Immortal, he was now gasping for breath like an ordinary mortal.

More than exhaustion, he had been frightened out of his wits.

Having cultivated in the Great Southern Continent for so many years, he could be said to know Southern Sumeru like the back of his hand.

Yet he had no idea when such a fiendish deity had emerged.

The sight of those Bodhisattvas being slaughtered still lingered in Ancestor Shen Shan's mind, impossible to dispel. Forget any fellowship between sect members—the young man's expression had barely changed throughout it all.

The thought sent a chill through his entire body.

Jade Pool Ancestor beside him was in much the same state. Having finally steadied herself, she still could not resist looking back once more.

After confirming that the figure in black had not pursued them, she clenched her fingers tightly, only to discover that her body had long since gone weak and limp.

"They're all dead—"

Jade Pool Ancestor withdrew her gaze, her voice trembling faintly.

"One survived."

Ancestor Shen Shan swallowed. "To escape alive from that man's hands, even with Patriarch Divine Void dying in his place, Grand Emperor of Void Alchemy has enough to be proud of."

Indeed, once those four magical artifacts had descended, despair had been the only thing left in this Great Luo Immortal's heart.

To put it bluntly, he had survived today purely because of the treasure bestowed by the Northern Continent, coupled with the Southern Emperor happening to pass by.

Had either been missing, he would already have been reduced to ashes alongside those Bodhisattvas.

"What do we do now?"

At this thought, Ancestor Shen Shan was completely at a loss. He could only turn his eyes