Such beings are born from the imagination of living creatures, who believe that kind-hearted people, after death, go to a world known as "Pure Land of Bliss," where there is no more suffering, and happiness is forever their companion... Over ti, the intangible beliefs accumulated and gave birth to such phantom spirits.
The Writing Spirit, one of the king’s forms in the Nether Fond Spirit system.
Its greatest skill is divination and casting curses; it seems to predict the future for the caster but demands the devouring of the caster’s life essence. From then on, the caster is entangled in karma, bearing the brunt of various mysterious costs.
The Tiger Overlord, with a tiger’s head on a human body, a Demi-human of the Holy Saint level.
He holds a vajra spear, his two arms as sturdy as mountains, and on his chest the roaring tiger’s aura totem. rely one glance would cause the onlooker’s eyes to bleed profusely, daring not to continue looking.
...
Among such beings, not one is of ordinary mortal flesh.
Yet, they all bore expressions of wariness, cautiously looking towards that insignificant flash of golden light.
In contrast, Yu Ruoxin, enveloped in the golden light, was akin to being watched by more than twenty Holy Saint Embryos.
Such oppressive force, if experienced by any Young King, would likely not be faced without a change in countenance or being dismissed as nothing.
"Jin Xuanzi... I didn’t expect you to still be alive."
The sigh ca from Ye Tianming, who widened his eyes, staring for a while before he could finally see clearly the entity of the golden light:
"Ah, when I think of the old days with Ye Gu, my heart is filled with mixed emotions!"
"He had already reached the pinnacle of the 9th rank, with a one in ten thousand chance to charge towards a higher realm."
In the end, he did not fall to enemies but to ti, ultimately unable to withstand the relentless passage of the years... Ah!"
"Let what’s past be past."
Jin Xuanzi’s voice was extrely righteous, lacking the aged weariness of Ye Tianming or the cold indifference of Night Roufeng. It was more like that of a middle-aged man well-read in poetry and literature, having seen many storms, and small matters no longer able to stir his heart.
"This generation’s clan-guarding formation will be led by . Do you have any objections?"
Under the full Nether Moon, a point of golden light seemingly insignificant, yet the words spoken were filled with absolute confidence.
"That would be excellent, the Blade Golem is riddled with old wounds inside and out. I was sowhat worried if it had to lead the main formation."
Ye Tianming suddenly beca elated, "If it’s you, our pressure will be lessened, and the period of weakness after guarding the formation will be much shorter than expected."
"Roar!"
The Plastic Bing nodded its head. Between its ferocious glares, there was also a hint of joy.
To protect an entire ancient city, to block potential disasters brought by the Clock of the Era, they too must bear karma as the price.
Although after being shared, it would not harm their Origin, a period of weakness, more or less, was unavoidable.
If this recoil could be reduced, it would be good for everyone.
"Next... where is the principal officiant?"
Jin Xuanzi asked faintly between heaven and earth, his voice rippling out, soothing the restlessness deep in the hearts of the listeners.
Ye Tianming, Ye Shu, Night Roufeng, and Ye Qianmo fell silent, their expressions suddenly beca solemn.
"This ti, it’s my turn," said an old woman.
At the center, the sacrificial platform slowly opened, and a group of black-robed elders sat on the ground, gradually forming a circular shape.
Ye Qi was among them, he and another masked elder, holding a massive block of ice, slowly placed it at the center of the altar.
"Crack—"
The black ice block split open, revealing an old woman inside, lying flat on the ground, without the strength to rise.
"Kneel."
Jin Xuanzi’s tone suddenly turned forceful, resonating within Without-Sun City with an authoritative voice echoing in endless reverberations.
To the naked eye, Ye Qiyu, Ye Mochou, and Ye Nishang knelt down on both knees, and as their kneecaps struck the ground, a loud collision sound rang out.
The other Young Kings too knelt down one after another.
But they did not bow their heads, instead, they tried their best to open their eyes wide, imprinting the last image of the old woman with their black, bright, and shiny pupils, onto eternity.
"Thump!"
Ye Hanjun felt a tightness in his chest, took a deep breath, and then knelt to the ground.
"Rember, no matter which branch of the Ye Clan you belong to, at this mont, she is your common ancestor."
"The reason your bloodlines can flow to this day, she is an indelible witness, Guardian, nurturer, and bearer of heritage."
"Today, she shall reside in endless glory, protecting our Ye Clan’s ancestral city. Every mber of the Night Family, every vassal of the Ye Clan, will benefit from her grace."
"You need not voice your gratitude, but you must imprint this scene in your hearts with your eyes, never to be forgotten in this lifeti."
"Carry out the rites of three bows and nine kowtows, and send off the Mr. Ye of the Ye Clan, Ye Yanhuo. May she age with the heavens, shine with the moon!"
"Our Ye lineage has stretched over one hundred and twenty thousand years. After today, the immortal thirteenth era—begins a new journey!"
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