Within the Blood Sea, all was deathly silent.
The deep blue figure stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The deductive light in his Cyan Gold eyes had not faded; on the contrary, it grew even more brilliant and dazzling.
In Nether Spring's blood-red eyes, the lazy, playful look had long since vanished.
He just quietly watched the figure's back, watched the Dao Rhyme flowing gently over it, and watched the eyes that seemed capable of piercing through all of eternity.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something.
But the words on the tip of his tongue dissolved into the faintest of sighs.
Because he knew that at this moment, his original self was in a Realm he could not touch, could not comprehend, and could not even imagine.
It was a choice of the Dao Heart.
It was the laying of a foundation for his Dao path.
It was—
A Cultivator, questioning the fundamental meaning of his own existence.
...
