Black and white spread apart. Atop Spirit Mountain, where the Buddha-light never went out, several rivers of the Netherworld surged.
The River of Sighs, whose source none knew, flowed with bitter cold, gloom, silence, and eternal sleep. Its power canceled out the purple jade tablet bobbing in the River Styx, the one that could open up ten thousand heavens.
A hazy, unfathomable aura erupted, dividing the battlefield into isolated little worlds.
"You overlooked the possibility that these gods would oppose you for the sake of their dignity." Wei Wu sighed and wrote in the Book of the Ages with his ink brush.
With one stroke, the figures of the Twelve Yuan Chen began to turn illusory. Terrible wounds flickered across their bodies, and the aura of Tribulation Lightning and Calamity spread.
The next instant, an immense, inscrutable power of passing time swept out of the imperial carriage and surged across the battlefield. The twelve Heracles figures steadied themselves, trampling ghosts and vengeful spirits as they led Heavenly Soldiers into a clash of blades with an undead army of skeletons.
"Teacher, I didn't overlook it." Helbark drew a mass of roiling black liquid into his hand. Bubbles rose through it like boiling water. "I just didn't expect them to choose something so contrary to their own interests when they stood to gain the most, especially at this point."
He glanced at the liquid in his hand. He could faintly sense a power outside competing with him for authority over "death" and "souls," making his control of his power less effortless than before.
Everyone knew the other side's cooperation was a sham. But even if they meant to strike, they should have waited until the Scripture-Seeker reached Spirit Mountain.
"Is it because of that Reincarnator team of Scripture-Seekers?" Helbark frowned and muttered.