The mysterious azure lantern still hung suspended in the air. Its flame, like a wisp of green smoke, flickered in the void, dimming and brightening as if on the verge of annihilation, yet it stubbornly endured, eternal and unyielding!
Ye Wushuang stood while the shadowy figure—an entity that inspired both fear and reverence—knelt before him. If anyone else were to witness this, they would be utterly dumbfounded, unable to believe their eyes.
The two remained like that, one standing and one kneeling, for a long, long time. Ye Wushuang didn't tell the shadowy figure to rise. 'I don't know what this phantom wants. It clearly had a chance to possess me, but it suddenly gave up.'
"I have traversed the starry sky, and I have finally found you... the bloodline of the Emperor!" The shadowy figure raised its head respectfully, its voice hoarse and choked with emotion. The two words "Emperor's bloodline," when spoken from its mouth, were filled with such glory!
'The Emperor's bloodline?'
