547: Chapter 547 The Eternal Void, Silent and Still

Jian Tanghuang raised her head.

Her amber eyes met that pair of grayish-white, fading eyes.

A thousand words blocked her throat, and a promise as heavy as ten thousand jun weighed on the tip of her tongue.

She wanted to say "I will surely live up to this trust," she wanted to say "I will make the name of the Divine Phoenix grace the heavens once more," she wanted to say "Go in peace, Senior"—

But in the end, she found that any language felt pale and powerless at this moment.

No oath could bear the weight of this entrustment and parting that spanned the ages.

She simply pressed her lips together tightly.

Then, she nodded forcefully and heavily.

The nod was so vigorous that her neck bones even emitted a faint "crack" sound.

This was not a courtesy.

This was a brand marked by the Soul, sworn by the Bloodline—from this day forth, for ten thousand years, until death do us part.

Lu Changzhi smiled.

This time, the smile genuinely spread to the corners of his eyes and brows.

Although faint, it was like the first ray of light after the haze had cleared, carrying a sense of relief and ease after laying down all burdens.

It was as if a lonely boat that had drifted for eons had finally caught sight of the outline of the other shore.

It was as if a veteran who had fought for countless epochs had finally heard the bugle call to retreat.

His gaze slowly moved away from Jian Tanghuang, sweeping across this vast, desolate Void Realm that had buried countless legends and heroic blood.

Eons ago, he drew his sword here, and stained it with blood here.

Eons later, he paused here, and here... he would sleep forever.

Very well.

"I am leaving."

The last two words were as light as a murmur, as faint as a wisp of smoke.

Then—

His figure, under the gaze of Jianzi and Jian Tanghuang, silently and completely dissipated.

There was no burst of light, no wailing of the Void Realm, no trembling of the Law.

It was like the faintest stroke on an ink painting, gently wiped away by time.

It was like a dewdrop on a blade of grass in the early morning, quietly evaporating the moment the sunlight touched it.

Clean and decisive.

As if he had never come.

And as if he had already merged eternally with this Void Realm, never to be separated again.

The Void Realm remained, as if nothing had ever changed.

And as if everything had been taken away.

Jianzi froze in place, like a statue instantly turned to stone.

His eyes were wide open, his pupils clearly reflecting that empty darkness.

He maintained that slightly forward-leaning posture, as if wanting to hold onto something, unmoving.

His lips were trembling violently, his teeth biting his lower lip until it was deathly pale, almost splitting.

Yet he held his breath tightly, not letting a single sob escape.

The Forefather said.

Bleed, but do not weep.

But his eye sockets became bloodshot and inflamed at a terrifying speed.

They were as red as two charcoal fires about to burn out, so red they seemed about to drip blood.

Burning, stinging, his vision blurred.

Jian Tanghuang slowly stood up, her bare feet stepping on the nothingness, and walked towards Jianzi.

She did not try to comfort him, nor did she make a sound to disturb him.

She simply stood quietly and silently by his side, shoulder to shoulder with him, looking together at the place where Lu Changzhi had dissipated.

Eternal Void, silent and desolate.

Time lost its meaning here, leaving only a heavy, suffocating emptiness echoing between the two.

It seemed as if a long time had passed.

And yet it seemed like only an instant.

Jianzi took a deep breath, as if using up all the air in his lungs.

The breath scraped across his throat, carrying the taste of blood and rust.

Then, he turned his head extremely slowly to look at Jian Tanghuang beside him.

These eyes were still terrifyingly red.

But the confusion and grief within them were rapidly fading—replaced by something harder and colder.

This was a will cast from molten iron, the sharp edge honed by thousands of refinements, and the unquestionable determination that broke through the soil after inheriting an eternal legacy.

He did not say a word.

But Jian Tanghuang met his gaze and clearly understood everything within it—

This unfinished path, the heavy entrustment, the promise that must be fulfilled, and this alliance, unspoken yet carved into their very marrow.

She said nothing.

She simply nodded slightly at him.

The two stood side by side just like that, in the empty and silent Void Realm.

No words were needed.

A tacit understanding that transcended identity, the past, and even Karma, flowed and gathered silently between them like a soundless river.

Ahead were the unknown heavens.

Behind were the eons that had passed.

And their path—

Had only just begun.

Meanwhile.

In another Void Realm.

If the place where Lu Changzhi was had been a solidified dirge and a silent graveyard, then this place was a boiling cauldron of blood and an out-of-control furnace.

The monstrous Devilish Qi was no longer just a presence, but had turned into a tangible, rolling, and roaring black tide of rage.

It did not diffuse evenly; instead, it was as if countless giant beasts were fighting and tearing at each other within it, constantly exploding viscous ink-like masses, staining the entire Void Realm into a suffocating, filthy, deep black.

In this darkness, there was mixed the blood mist peculiar to the Yao Race, smelling fishy and sweet like rust.

It was permeated with the uncalmed, twisted spatial ripples left behind by the Void Beast Clan as they traversed it.

It was further entwined with that bone-chilling Death Qi of the Soul Race, as if it came from the end of the Nine Netherworlds.

Right in the center of this chaotic, filthy, murderous darkness—

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!

Five loud bangs, with almost no interval between them.

Like five burning stars crashing down simultaneously!

The entire Void Realm, soaked in Devilish Qi, trembled violently, emitting a groan that could not bear the burden.

With the impact point as the center, fine, pitch-black spatial cracks like spiderwebs spread and intertwined frantically, blooming into a huge, hideous, and symbolic flower of destruction and arrival—

A Black Prison Lotus.

The first figure descended, carrying the most primitive and violent aura of the wilderness.

The Demon Dragon.

Ao Huang.

He was an existence viewed as a curse and an anomaly within the Dragon Domain of the Yao Race—the demonic nature in his Bloodline was more intense than his dragon nature.

His body was so massive it was heart-stopping. The hundred-zhang dragon body seemed almost ready to split this Void Realm, his entire body covered in dragon scales as pitch-black as the deepest night.

The scales were not smooth but covered in naturally formed, twisted, and wriggling eerie demonic patterns, as if living creatures were crawling within them.

Dark red Devilish Qi, like cooled magma, constantly oozed out from the gaps between the scales with a "hissing" sound.

Wherever it dripped, the Void Realm was corroded into small black holes emitting black smoke and with irregular edges, exuding a foul stench mixed with sulfur and decay.

He held his head high.

His golden slit pupils were like two burning suns—but they did not emit light, only an extreme, pure bloodlust, brutality, and an arrogance that looked down on everything.

In his eyes, all things were food, and all living beings were ants.

The moment he landed, he did not restrain himself in the slightest; instead, he unleashed this fierce pressure, a mixture of Dragon might and Devilish Qi!

The hundred-zhang dragon body crushed across the Void Realm; he did not stand but rather occupied the maximum space in a coiled posture, arrogantly.

As his dragon tail swept, the spatial cracks spread further.

This posture could not be more obvious—

This seat has descended; you pieces of trash, why do you not kneel?

"Tsk, tsk, tsk—"

His dragon jaws opened and closed, the sound rolling out from the depths of his throat like muffled thunder rolling over scorched earth.

Lazy, gravelly, yet carrying a weight that could crush everything.

He deliberately dragged out the syllables, each word soaked in undisguised disdain:

"I thought some minor deity was rushing here like their ass was on fire, but it turns out, it's just you few... twisted melons and cracked dates."

His golden slit pupils slowly turned.

He first glanced at Hun Yan—his gaze like examining a walking corpse.

"A weakling of the Soul Race, the smell of the morgue on you makes my eyes hurt even from eight hundred Star Domains away."

Then he turned to Xu Ming—a scoff emitted from his nostrils.

"And you, a deformed specimen of the Void Beast Clan; just because you grew four arms, you really think you can pierce the sky? You look like a spider demon that got caught in a door."

Finally, his gaze landed on Wutian.

Ao Huang paused deliberately.

His dragon jaws pulled back into a nearly tearing arc, revealing bone-white, hideous sharp teeth. But this time, the booming laugh rolling from his throat was not as unbridled as before.

"Yo-ho—!"

The voice was still arrogant, still grating, but beneath that arrogance was clearly a trace of... caution that even he himself could not completely erase.

"Isn't this our 'famous' number one Prodigy of the Demon Race?"

He deliberately emphasized the four words "famous," as if savoring the irony of these four words, and also as if using these four words to measure the weight of the person in front of him.

"I didn't expect that someone like you—"

He paused.

His dragon pupils shrank slightly.

"—a top-tier Prodigy, would actually appear here."

The tone still sounded mocking, still provocative.

But if one listened carefully, beneath the blade of mockery, there was clearly a taut string hidden.

"It is truly an honor!"

He spat out the last five words almost through gritted teeth.

Laughter exploded—rumble rumble rumble!

But everyone present could hear that the arrogance in this laughter was no longer as natural as before.

Because Ao Huang's eyes had never moved away from Wutian from beginning to end.

In these golden dragon pupils, the banter remained, the mockery remained.

But beneath the banter and mockery, something was slowly flowing.

This was an instinctive wariness of a true powerhouse, carved deep into his Bloodline.

This was something that even the Demon Dragon's arrogance could not completely suppress—

Fear.