To Meng Chuan, the Fire Emperor's question was a philosophical one.
How was he still alive?
If he wasn't alive, he would be dead. How else could he be standing here?
"I was lucky enough to survive the harvest by those three Dharma Artifacts," the Fire Emperor said.
At the same time, the aura of a Deity flickered around him, warping the very space nearby.
During the three years Meng Chuan had been gone, the Fire Emperor had ignited his divine flame and entered the realm of the Divine Way.
And he wasn't alone. A little red bird flew into the Imperial Palace. It was the Fire Nation's Sacrificial Spirit, Shi Hao's old playmate, Little Red.
The little red bird's aura was no weaker than the Fire Emperor's. She, too, had broken through and entered the realm of the Divine Way.
These two had been the first to benefit from Meng Chuan's care and the Enchanted Cottage.
Nearly ten years had passed since they first met.
Both had taken that step onto the Divine Way.
"The Fire Nation's doing pretty well," Meng Chuan praised.
Among the descendants of the seven kings in the Lower Realm, theirs was the only branch still in contact with the Three Thousand Dao Provinces. Sure enough, they had plenty of clever methods at their disposal.
But if the Stone Emperor could use various means to escape gravely wounded, surviving would be even less of a problem for the Fire Emperor and the others.
After all, the first Heavenly Transformation had only been a prelude. The descent of those three Dharma Artifacts to reap lives was merely the opening act.
The ones behind it had yet to get serious.
When the Great Calamity truly descended, there would be far more than three Dharma Artifacts.
Those beings