Of course the Nether Emperor wanted to leave the Demon-Suppressing Prison, to get out, to go back.
But he knew very well that without help, if he stepped into that chaotic darkness, he would drift forever in the river of time.
The dark cloud had followed him to the cliff as well. From time to time, a bell rang crisply within it, giving rise to an adorable flash of lightning.
The mosquitoes of the Demon-Suppressing Prison had also gathered nearby, but cowed by the thunder might, they dared not approach.
The Nether Emperor withdrew his gaze and looked at those tiny, barely visible mosquitoes. After a long silence, he finally made his decision.
The moment he made that decision, the streams of light inside his body began flowing much faster, and his aura grew considerably stronger.
In the depths of winter, a blizzard descended on Chaoge City.
Protected by formations, the city suffered no serious accumulation of snow, nor did any houses collapse under its weight. Yet this did not stop those impoverished pedants who disbelieved in the existence of cultivators from standing in thin cotton-padded robes, their faces blue, bitterly denouncing something to the crowds. The stricken farmers outside the city and the refugees who had migrated from farther north became their best evidence.
Naturally, those in the Imperial Palace were unaffected by the blizzard or the refugees, living warm, comfortable, happy lives. But Consort Hu, who had always been favored and was especially fond of her warm covers, had lately lost this pleasure, because her son Jing Yao now had to be forced out of bed before dawn to practice stances and punches outside the window.
However carefree she might be, she could not stay in bed at a time like this.
Watching Jing Yao stand