Thus, darkness beca the dominator, producing a night full of silence.
The Eyes of Netherworld were activated, a series of pallid and unsettling eyeballs, erging from nothingness, hovering around her exterior.
To stare into them was to see ghosts and deities, horrifying, detestable, pitiable, a complete narrative of uncanny mysteries.
In a series of phantasmagoric events, Ye Liuying’s aura dramatically ascended, almost as if shooting straight into the heavens.
The barriers within her bloodline tried to halt her, but her charge was too fierce and rapid, fragile as paper, virtually non-existent, utterly ineffective.
"Crack!!"
The sound of the shell splitting, the dark curtain tore apart, emitting millions of black rays like rising flas.
The boiling blood transford into a curtain of jubilation, six wings symbolic of nobility and status, thin as cicada’s wings, wide as a dragon’s spine, unfolded one by one, proclaiming their presence.
At that mont, Ye Liuying’s aura turned heaven and earth upside down.
Her posture, floating and unfurling her wings, was like a Kunpeng in existence, with the bullish confidence to soar ninety thousand li with the slightest effort.
This is the S-rank dark power—Eternal Night Angel!
From that mont, Ye Liuying had shed her identity as the Young King.
The term "young," facing the naïve youths within the Ye Clan.
Once grown to Seventh Rank, clearly marked a distinguished boundary from the dian ranks, close enough to join the clan’s core combat power, and more aptly addressed by the term "Elder."
"Indeed, with my experiences, I cannot claim the title ’The Son of Shura.’"
Ye Liuying opened her eyes, like dew in the dawn, reflecting both the sun’s brilliance and the night’s depth.
Her appearance was elegant and poised, her face without a smile, only revealing her enticingly pale neckline, her luminescent white slender arms moved with grace and charm, each gesture and smile as sensual and elegant as a black swan.
Hearing her reflective words, Ye Hanjun slowly opened his eyes.
Black Pupils, red pupils, tightly packed, exuded trendous authority, pressing so heavily that even the void trembled.
Shifting his gaze slightly upward, right at the position between his eyebrows, as the phase of the Gray Sun set, a grotesque blood-red scar, as though a red-hot iron was pressed upon it, the dominant aura of a superior, reached its peak at that mont.
"I have obtained it..."
"Twelve thousand years—a high honor coveted by our clan, the Son of Shura enshrined within , at my command."
Moved by the sensation, Ye Hanjun extended his right palm, gently touching.
Then, he pursed his lips, a mont of daze later, he fell silent, as if into a deathlike stillness.
"Roar—"
Two large holes broke open above, chaotic air bursting out.
As if riding on the flying Supre Saint Embryo, like lightning, in the blink of an eye, the ancient mysteries deep within the soul grew farther and farther away.
Shura’s Tomb—Return with victory!
A hundred years prior, the underlying unease and anticipation had entirely vanished!
In the whirl of the world, Ye Hanjun recalled all the events of this venture, his emotions surged, nearly bursting into song to vent the grand passions within his heart.
He held back, suppressing the deepest throbs of his soul, forcefully containing the expanding, explosive desires.
"Whoosh~~~"
Upon opening his eyes again, the turmoil in space dissipated, and the world around him stabilized.
A familiar scene entered his view, twenty-four towering stone pillars circled up to the clouds, a grand ancient altar stood in the center, with the stature of mountains and the vastness of seas, peculiar and majestic, invoking reverence.
"Wash~~~"
In the silenced atmosphere, the Teleportation Array lit up continuously.
One after another clan mber, freed from the confines of the tomb, returned to the ancestral city.
Ye Hu, Ye Min, Ye Yaya, Ye Dingding, Ye Xun, Ye Kun... these once familiar or unfamiliar clan mbers, never again erged, completely disappearing without a trace.
Even Ye Dan who had held the title of ’Demon Ruler’ and Ye Shan who possessed the ’Dark Night Commander,’ flickered epherally like fleeting illusions, provoking light sighs.
"What about Ye Yunruo? Why hasn’t she co out?"
"She couldn’t have also died in the tomb, could she? She took away Little Monkey Lord with absolute certainty, claiming it was to safeguard it for our clan."
"She was the one who suggested that cursed ga of rock-paper-scissors. To think that was the last I would see of her with a re turn of her head?"
Ye Buchun, who had grown more robust and now sported a beard, looked around, eventually scratching his head, a flicker of confusion passing over his resolute face.
"Damn, Ye Aobai is gone too?"
"During that ga of rock-paper-scissors, he lucked out and unexpectedly won the allegiance of the Scorpion Demon."
"I was hoping to avenge my previous disgrace once I returned to the ancestral city. I didn’t expect that to be our last encounter; that Scorpion Demon really had terrible luck, ending up with such an unreliable master..."
"Who are you talking about?"
An infuriated rebuke, carried from afar, rang out:
"Ye Buchun, open your damn eyes, I am right here!"
"Curse dead again, and don’t push to lose my temper. Even in front of the Elder, I’ll beat you up, teach you a lesson!"
"Eh?"
Ye Buchun stretched his neck, following the voice.
Eventually, at the edge of the altar, he saw a solitary head.
Though from the neck down, including the torso and limbs, were all missing.
But that repugnant face, seen again after decades, indeed had not changed much.
"Damn, where’s the rest of your body?"
Ye Buchun laughed, his gloom montarily cleared, utterly puzzled:
"You couldn’t have been hiding sowhere, waiting out the end, could you?"
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