Beyond the palace gates lay not a resplendent hall, but a deep, shadowy passage sloping downward. Its walls were smooth as mirrors, inscribed with countless ancient seal characters that flowed like ripples, exuding the weathered aura of distant ages. The exceptionally pure water spiritual energy was so dense that it had condensed into pale blue spiritual mist. Every breath seemed to increase their magical power slightly, yet also made the stabbing pain of their injuries all the sharper.
The wound in Han Li's left shoulder was deep enough to expose bone. Lei Wanhe's sword qi clung to him like a festering sore on the bone, still ravaging his meridians and leaving his face pale and his breathing erratic. Without a word, he swallowed several Healing Pills and gripped the Gloom Fang Dagger in his right hand, his Profound Yin Spirit Eye warily scanning ahead. Yuan Yao followed close behind, her lovely face equally bloodless. Forcing the activation of the stellar transposition talisman earlier had clearly drained her severely. Yet when her gaze swept over Han Li's injured left shoulder and the jade box containing the Soul-Cleansing Lotus, a barely perceptible, strange gleam flickered deep in her eyes.
Gravely wounded, yet still clutching a keen blade; peering at flowers through mist, he cautiously pressed ahead.
The passage was silent save for their faint footsteps and breathing. After roughly the time it took an incense stick to burn, light appeared ahead, and an even vaster, more overwhelming pressure swept toward them. When they emerged from the passage, the sight before them caught their breath.
It was a magnificent hall beyond description. Its ceiling rose out of sight, scattered starlight mimicking the revolving stars of the heavens. At the center of the hall was no floor, but a bottomless azure vortex turning slowly.