Cataclysm Descends, True Despair!

At the cloud-top cliff.

Luo Chen turned to look at the Great Luo Sword Saint, whose legs had gone weak, then turned back and patted him on the shoulder. With a light laugh, he said, "Haha, I was joking. Don't overthink it."

After comforting his little brother, Luo Chen headed toward Spirit Deer Peak.

The Great Luo Sword Saint remained where he was, his body stiff and his scalp tingling.

A joke? That was no way to make a joke.

Moreover, Luo Chen had spoken disrespectfully of the Dark Ancient Emperor, yet disaster had not immediately befallen him. How could he not understand what that implied?

The Great Luo Sword Saint gritted his teeth and turned to watch Luo Chen's departing back as he walked away at an unhurried pace, saying nothing.

At that moment, he felt that Luo Chen was the Profound Yellow Emperor himself—the absolute powerhouse who had ruled over all races, whose mighty name resounded throughout the Profound Yellow Universe.

Legend had it that the Profound Yellow Emperor himself was incomparably proud and aloof, never placing any enemy in his eyes.

Though Luo Chen had appeared casual just now, the bearing he revealed was so strikingly similar to the records concerning the Great Emperor.

Luo Chen paid no heed to the Great Luo Sword Saint, who had fallen into a whirlwind of thoughts. As he walked, his divine sense remained locked onto the vicinity of the reincarnation vortex.

The Primeval Great World had only just undergone a fierce slaughter and had yet to recover when corpses of Gods and Devils began fighting their way out from reincarnation once more.

And it was not merely one or two. As the corpses of Gods and Devils emerged one after another, countless powerhouses of the Primeval Great World sank into