The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

Chapter 131 The Celestial Venerable of Floating Life and Profound Yellow?

"Sizzle—"

'

A terrifying spatial rift, so enormous it defied description, with unstable purple-black lightning crackling at its edges and a deep, twisted void within, was forcibly "torn" open by her casual slash.

The crack stretched for thousands of feet, lying across the sky like a giant, dark, and ferocious eye opening in the heavens.

A violent spatial turbulence and chaotic energy erupted from it, only to be forcibly restrained by the power of the Yin lightning leaping from the edge of the crack.

pressing.

Zuo Qingqiu took a step forward.

The dark figure instantly disappeared into the bottomless spatial rift that seemed to devour all light.

The next moment, the thousand-foot-long crack that stretched across the sky began to slowly writhe and heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The purple-black lightning at the edge and the distorted darkness inside quickly calmed and merged, disappearing completely in just a few breaths.

The sky returned to normal, leaving only the strange beam of mixed light and the devastated snowfield below, proving that the terrifying events just now were not an illusion.

On the plains, the cold wind swept across the scorched earth and deep ravines, making a mournful sound.

At this moment, whether they were elders from various factions or high-ranking members of the Taihua Sect, they all looked at each other in dismay, their faces showing shock, bewilderment, lingering fear, and a trace of exhaustion from surviving a disaster.

True Lord Zixu has truly gone to the depths of the East Sea for a decisive battle.

A war between True Lords, capable of influencing the future landscape of the Old Earth Continent and potentially triggering a cataclysmic calamity, was about to begin before their very eyes.

After a long while, the Grand Elder of Taihua Sect, True Person Qingwei, slowly exhaled a breath of turbid air.

The usually composed old man now wore an undisguised look of heaviness on his face.

He glanced around at the still-shaken guests, mustered his strength, and spoke through his magic, his voice echoing across the silent plain.

"Fellow Daoists, today's events are neither what our Taihua Sect wished, nor what True Lord Zixu wished. But things have come to this, and further words are useless. The battle between True Lords is beyond our control, nor is it something we can witness."

He paused, then his tone turned solemn: "Now that this matter is settled, please return to the mountain, close the gates tightly, and observe the situation calmly. Remain true to yourselves and avoid causing trouble. Great changes may be about to occur in the world; I hope you will all take care of yourselves and act accordingly."

He didn't say "see the guest out," but the meaning was clear.

Who would be in the mood to attend a banquet right now?

The two True Lords are engaged in a divine battle deep in the East Sea, and the aftershocks could sweep across the continent at any moment. The most important thing is to hurry back to the mountain to set up defenses and make arrangements for the future.

The guests seemed to awaken from a dream, and they all bowed and clasped their hands, disregarding all formalities. One after another, streaks of light flashed, and like a flock of startled birds, they fled in all directions in a panic.

In a short while, the once bustling and crowded Yifan Plain was reduced to a desolate and silent mess, with only the solemn faces of the Taihua Gate's high-ranking officials.

Master Qingwei gazed at the eastern horizon, towards the East Sea, his eyes deep and tinged with worry.

He whispered a few instructions to Jiang Shaoling, the sect leader beside him, and then, along with several other elders, transformed into streaks of light and returned to Taihua Peak.

Jiang Shaoling stood still, still holding the two cold and heavy swords that were the sword immortals' natal swords—Qingping and Taozhi.

The blades of both natal swords were now dull and stained with dried, blackened blood.

He looked eastward, then down at the two swords in his arms, finally sighed, carefully put them away, and rode his escape light towards the mountain gate.

The cold wind howled, whipping up scorched earth and ice chips from the snowfield.

Only the faint, scorching aura of thunder lingering in the snowy air and the strange Daoist charm left behind by the disappearance of ink and wash silently tell the story of the earth-shattering changes that have just taken place here.

Deep in the East China Sea.

This place is at the deepest part of the vast ocean to the east of the old continent. Looking around, all that remains is a boundless expanse of indigo sea, stretching to the horizon and seemingly endless.

The sea was not calm; instead, due to the convergence of ocean currents and chaotic spiritual energy in the depths, countless huge, silent whirlpools and undercurrents surged, their color deep and almost black, as if connected to the Netherworld.

The sky was a very high and distant gray-blue, with no sun or moon in sight, only thin clouds flowing rapidly by.

The air was thick with a salty, damp mist, and carried a cold, primal, and dangerous aura unique to the deep sea.

The spiritual energy was unusually active and chaotic, with various types of spiritual energy colliding and annihilating each other. Occasionally, clusters of brief and beautiful aurora-like light bands would burst out in the void, only to quickly fade away.

Continuing forward from here for countless miles, one will reach the "Sea of ​​Mist," a place that strikes fear into the hearts of cultivators from the old lands.

Even from this vantage point, at the horizon, one can see a hazy, seemingly eternal gray-white mist, like a giant curtain standing at the horizon, blocking both sight and consciousness, filled with mystery and unease.

This place is hundreds of millions of miles away from the eastern coast of the old continent.

Even an ordinary cultivator at the Purple Mansion level, if they were to escape into the Great Void and fly day and night in their escape light, would still need more than ten years to arrive. Even a True Monarch, who could tear through the void to travel, would need several days.

At this moment, in the vast sea, far from the hustle and bustle, where the laws are chaotic and the forbidden land is near, in a relatively "calm" sea area, a figure sits quietly in the void.

He was a thin, elderly man wearing an old gray Taoist robe.

The old man had white hair and beard, long eyebrows that almost reached his shoulders, and deep wrinkles on his face, crisscrossing like ravines, each one seemingly etched with endless years and vicissitudes.

His eyes were slightly closed, his face was withered and calm, there was no spiritual power leaking out of his body, nor any intimidating pressure. He was like a stone statue that had been forgotten in a corner of time and covered in dust for a long time, or an ordinary reef on the beach that had been blown by wind and waves for millions of years and had long lost its edges.

Only when he occasionally lifts his dry, bark-like eyelids and opens his eyes will an indescribable, profound, and boundless divine light suddenly flash across the depths of those seemingly murky, as if veiled by a white film.

The divine light was not sharp, but it seemed to be able to reflect all the tangible and intangible landscapes in the world, to capture them in an instant, and to annihilate them in a single thought.

That was a manifestation of supreme authority belonging to "Dao" and "Fruit Position" that transcended the comprehension of cultivators in the Purple Mansion realm.

He is none other than the True Lord of Fu Shui.

Having held the "Fruit Position" for over eight thousand years and witnessed countless changes, rises and falls in the Old Earth Continent, the old True Lord has honed his own cultivation to a state of perfect harmony, almost becoming the "Tao" itself.

He has been sitting here cross-legged for many days.

Several days before the True Lord Ceremony, his true form had already left the Hanmo Mountains, torn through layers of void, and arrived at this pre-selected battlefield.

Sit quietly here, adjust your state, and communicate and adapt to the laws of heaven and earth in this chaotic sea.

He had no doubt whether Zuo Qingqiu would come to keep the appointment.

At their level, there are some invitations that they cannot avoid.

He was just waiting.

Waiting for the right opportunity.

Wait until this battlefield accumulates enough "momentum".

He also waited for that newly promoted junior to cross billions of miles of void and arrive before him.

A few days, for him.

But it's just a snap of the fingers.