"Celestial Court."
The moment those two words reached his ears, Qi Yun's gaze sharpened abruptly.
Qi Yun's silence was brief.
But to the face, it felt as long as a century.
Within the distant Grand Array, the baleful blood qi around Situ Huaji's true body weakened another notch.
The vision of his Battle Dao Foundation behind him, woven from the phantoms of countless Ancient Fierce Demons, had already dissipated by nearly half. Its edges were as blurry and indistinct as the moon's reflection in water or a flower in a mirror.
"Fine."
Qi Yun finally spoke, his voice as calm as the depths of an ancient well:
"However, if you dare to deceive me—"
He paused, a faint glint of coldness flashing in his eyes—a chill so profound it made even the ashen-gray face tremble:
"You'll wish you had found Enlightenment at the hands of these Buddhist Cultivators. It would have been a quicker end."
The moment his voice fell—
The ashen-gray rainbow light beneath his feet abruptly vanished.
