One man, one bull.
The man carried a crooked silver Mountain-Splitting Axe on his back. His bamboo hat was pulled low, black hair spilling down, while his robes remained utterly still amid the bloody winds of this Ancient Domain. It was as though every breath between heaven and earth, within three feet of him, silently and willingly detoured around him.
The bull was entirely pitch-black, enormous as a mountain. The instant its four hooves touched the ground, the scorched ancient soil beneath them—which had not grown so much as a blade of grass for countless ages—trembled faintly.
It was as if this land itself, after slumbering in silence for far, far too long, had finally felt a familiar weight and let out a soundless, hoarse sigh.
The two figures stood there in the Zang Xian Ancient Domain, amid the remaining Undying Dharma Aspects, atop the eternal ruins formed from shattered continents and cracks in the Dao.
No words. No movement.
They simply stood.
Yet, at this very moment, the vital currents of the entire Ancient Domain quietly underwent some fundamental change, one imperceptible to the naked eye yet impossible to ignore—
Like a seed quietly falling upon a Wasteland that had been dead silent for countless ages.
Chen Xun stood atop the ruins, slowly lifting his dark eyes to gaze upon this old land he had once personally chosen, now devastated beyond recognition.
His expression was calm, profound, distant—like an ancient mirror that had reflected too much time, taking in all before it without revealing a trace of emotion.
Black Bull stood at his side, slowly lowering its massive head.
Something weighed heavily in the depths of its bovine eyes as it looked upon this land they had once trodden countless times, now utterly changed beyond recognition. For a long