"Dead?"
Qilin Miaofa True Monarch maintained his divine skills.
He closed his eyes, slightly tilted his head, but his divine thought had locked onto the two figures in the center of the Nether Lake, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.
Ling Chenzi's aura was rapidly dissipating.
This Daoist Great True Man, who had achieved such mastery in creation, had really fallen?
"..."
At this moment, Ling Chenzi lay in the Nether Lake, his eyes scattered, gradually losing color and ultimately turning into a dull gray.
Until the final moment of his consciousness dissipating, his gaze remained fixed on Xie Xuanyi.
Unwilling.
He felt utterly unwilling.
After fleeing north, he hid and evaded all along, thinking he could survive by avoiding Zhao Chunyang from those years.
Little did he expect that fate would circle back to the starting point.
Ultimately, his life was still ended by a flying sword.
More ironically,
