"Long live the True Lord!"
"Long live the True Lord!"
Within the grotto-heaven, the people cheered.
Chu Mo sat high upon a dais. Below him, countless mortals prostrated themselves, tears brimming in their eyes as they cried, "Long live the True Lord!"
Their cheers surged like roaring mountains and crashing seas, lingering without end.
Chu Mo smiled faintly.
With a beckoning gesture, he summoned a long pole bearing Nine Sorrows' head beside him. The head still stared wide-eyed, bewildered and helpless. The cheers instantly rose to an even greater pitch.
It would be a real waste to simply kill these taboo beings. Better to leave their lives in their keeping for now, then collect them when he had a use for them.
And among the taboo beings, I must have someone of my own...
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He gathered his thoughts and looked down at the mortals.
The cheers had gradually subsided. Countless eyes turned toward the dais, filled with fervor and reverence. Chu Mo nodded slightly and continued expounding the Dao.
His voice flowed slowly, the Dao he spoke of profound beyond measure.
The mortals listened, utterly entranced.
A streak of moonlight swept through the void.
Lunar Yin carried Nine Sorrows onto a barren mountain, immediately tossing him aside in disgust before asking, "Nine Sorrows, are you all right?"
Nine Sorrows shook his head, then suddenly remembered that she could not see it. Instead, he waved his hand and pointed above his empty neck. "Not at all. I can't recover."
"What kind of power is this...?"
Lunar Yin gazed at the layer of eerie, dim light covering the severed neck, her expression darkening. While she was still puzzling over it in alarm, a ripple came from behind her.
Declining Fate stepped out of nothingness. At the sight before him, his expression