Only Emperor Zhetian himself knew what that golden light meant.
How could that be golden light?
It was clearly the radiance released as his own cultivation dissipated.
They said cultivating the Dao was harder than climbing to the blue heavens.
Naturally, Emperor Zhetian had cultivated for ten thousand years to become an emperor unmatched through the ages, a High God of the Heavenly Realm.
Now, however, it was slipping away from him like fine sand through his fingers.
How could Emperor Zhetian not panic?
Precisely because fear had taken root in his heart, his hatred for the culprit who had made him step into the formation trap grew boundless.
If not for that single misstep, how could he have fallen so far?
To think that he, the mighty Heavenly Emperor, had been reduced to watching helplessly as his cultivation dissipated!
But Emperor Zhetian was no ordinary man. Even as he watched his cultivation drain away, little panic showed on his face.
"You certainly came prepared. It seems you know my secrets quite well."
Emperor Zhetian looked at Yang Qing, then at Bu Er and Jiang Zhizhou. "Unfortunately, if you think you can force me to submit this way, you are sorely mistaken."
As he spoke, his expression turned fierce. "Even if all of you die, I will not."
Yang Qing watched Emperor Zhetian's swaying figure and suddenly smiled. "If we thought something this simple could deal with you, Sacred Emperor, we really would be overestimating ourselves."
"But do you think we would be that foolish?"
Having said that, Yang Qing lowered his head and glanced beneath Emperor Zhetian's feet. Seeing a faint light slowly emerge there, his smile widened.
"Even if we have to stake our lives, we will make you bleed."
"You have always regarded us mortals as ants.