Chapter 1257: Everything Flips Around
The voice surpassed any heavenly sound, any type of dao will, and exceeded all natural and magical laws. It was like the chanting of infinite gods, with mightiness that shattered starry skies, enveloped all living beings, eradicated all manner of things, and even shattered universes. Endless black flesh and blood emerged from the shattered fragments, then proliferated like mad, turning the entire world into something gruish.
The person who spoke was none other than... God Emperor Death Departure! Hē sat on an imperial throne made of countless universes, and hīs eyes were currently open, with hīs divine will filling every block of shattered ice so that it seemed like many heavens were looking down.
All cultivators shivered in their hearts and minds, and the flames of their life force flickered as if they might go out. The actual immortals were not spared!
The countless chunks of rubble that filled the ancient battlefield began vibrating. Countless eyes from corpses that had been there for endless years floated up, transformed by the will of the God Lord into a huge river. All of a sudden, the lids of the 360 coffins in the central altar opened. Black energy poured out of them, creating space-time ripples that could rip apart the souls of gods.
All of that happened because of one thing said by a God Lord!
Xu Qing was hit particularly hard since he was right at the edge of the altar. His mind went blank, and he suddenly lost all ability to sense anything. It was as if... he had become a piece of dust. Compared to a God Lord, right now... he really was like nothing more than dust.
As dramatic things seemed about to unfold, a cold voice suddenly spread out from the scroll painting that opposed the God Lord.
“So what if the treaty was violated?”
That voice caused more dramatic things to happen in the starry sky. The shattered ice, the crystals that had formed, the godly might and mutagen, and even the infinite and gruish proliferations of flesh, all went still. They became a boundless black mist that shot toward the painting, converging on the index finger of the Immortal Lord who sat cross-legged within it.
It vanished. A mere afterglow remained on the fingertip, which turned into a ring of black ice.
The Immortal Lord flicked his finger. The black ice melted, becoming a white flame that danced about, leaving faint burn marks like stardust.
Just like that, the battlefield changed again. The coffins’ lids shut, and the space-time ripples were erased. The crystal river tumbled back and became a sea of flames that spread out, filled with immortal energy. The cultivators’ minds cleared, and they unhesitatingly beat their war drums. The sound of it filled the starry sky.