502: The Dark Immortal Reappears!

The crowd no longer hesitated in the slightest, suppressing their excitement, and immediately sat down cross-legged, entering the deepest state of Cultivation, beginning to frantically devour the vast Heavenly Dao bestowed energy around them!

Lu Hao nodded with satisfaction, looking at the figures wrapped in the seven-colored torrent, and with a flash of his figure, he left the Hunyuan Pagoda.

Not long after Lu Hao left the Hunyuan Pagoda, a relatively substantial amount of Cultivation poured into his body!

He sensed it; his eldest Disciple, Mu Siyuan, had achieved a Breakthrough.

The period that followed became the most terrifying period of Cultivation growth for Lu Hao!

Inside the Hunyuan Pagoda, everyone was undergoing an unprecedented transformation.

Everyone was continuously achieving Breakthroughs, and the immense power of the Heavenly Dao's bestowal often solidified their Foundation incredibly firmly as soon as they broke through!

Every Breakthrough, under the System's ten thousandfold return, directly surged into Lu Hao's body!

And above the Wuji Pavilion, it also became lively.

Often, as soon as one person finished Undergoing Tribulation, another person's Lightning Tribulation would follow, making it quite bustling.

This scene continued for nearly three days before gradually calming down.

Lu Hao checked his Cultivation and was incredibly surprised to find that the Dao he had comprehended had already reached three hundred!

In other words, according to the Cultivators' own classification, he was now a "One Origin Supreme."

Of course, this "One Origin Supreme" needed to be in quotation marks.

After all, others comprehend the Origin, while Lu Hao needs to comprehend the Dao; the two are fundamentally not on the same level!

......

Deep within the Netherworld, eternal gloom was the only melody, and the Netherworld's Qi was so thick it was almost unresolvable.

Countless Netherworld beings struggled here; in the Living Realm, many Cultivators still harbored good intentions, but in the Netherworld, there was only extreme survival of the fittest! Extreme contention and cruelty!

Within this region, a palace rose from the ground, its grandeur and might indescribable.

The palace was ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine li tall, standing on the ground like a giant pillar supporting the entire Netherworld's firmament.

The entire palace was built from a peculiar Netherworld stone, emitting a faint, eerie Qi.

On the surface of the palace, there were hundreds of millions of dense, flickering Formations and runes, which emitted an incredibly terrifying Qi. Even a True Immortal would likely be fearful of them!

Outside this magnificent palace was another breathtaking sight.

Dense, endless figures clad in pitch-black heavy armor stood silently, like lurking Vicious Beasts.

Their armor covered their entire bodies, even their faces hidden beneath ferocious beast-head masks, leaving only two crimson lights burning faintly within their helmets—those were soul fires, giving off an incredibly cold and murderous feeling at a glance.

They slowly moved and patrolled around the massive palace, their steps heavy and uniform, each footfall producing a neat rustling sound, adding to the Intent to kill!

The core of the palace was an enormous hall, brightly lit inside.

However, the hall was eerily empty, with only a single throne occupying the center, its material neither gold nor jade, flowing with a light deeper than the night.

Beneath the throne, a figure sat quietly.

She wore a pure black gown, its hem cascading like a dark waterfall, spreading across the cold Netherworld stone floor.

Her figure subtly outlined breathtaking curves; though slender and graceful, it contained an indescribable sense of power. She sat there quietly, motionless, as if completely integrated with the aura of the hall.

No power fluctuations emanated from her body, not even the rise and fall of her breath was perceptible, as if she were a Mortal.

However, this extreme stillness was quickly broken by a suddenly appearing spatial tunnel.

A man, entirely clad in a black tight-fitting suit, stepped out of it, then his knees slammed heavily onto the cold, hard Netherworld stone floor with a dull thud. His head was deeply bowed, his posture utterly humble.

"Nether Immortal, my lady!"

The man's voice carried an extreme reverence:

"Your subordinate has continuously searched the Living Realm for several years, scouring the territories of the six great ancient realms, sacrificing countless Netherworld beings for this, and finally obtained a result!"

"Among the six realms, out of hundreds of millions of Cultivators, there are over 1.2 million individuals named 'Lu Hao', but after your subordinate's personal screening and repeated verification, we have now roughly narrowed it down to three individuals!"

The sitting figure remained motionless, as if the voice was merely a wisp of wind passing by her, not disturbing her in the slightest.

Nether Left maintained his bowing posture, his voice quickening, carrying the urgency of having completed a task:

"The first currently resides in the southern region of the Feng Ling Ancient Realm, the second is hidden deep within the Hundred Flowers Valley of the Spirit Realm, and the third's whereabouts have been revealed in the eastern domain of the Xuantian Ancient Realm, in Thousand Stars State!"

He paused, a hint of helpless bitterness in his voice:

"All three of these individuals may possess the Soul Summoning Banner, but... these three's Cultivation is unfathomably deep, absolutely not something your subordinates can contend with. Therefore... I specifically came to report to Nether Immortal, my lady, and respectfully request your sacred judgment!"

As the last word fell, the hall returned to dead silence. But beneath this silence, an invisible storm seemed to be brewing.

Finally, the figure beneath the throne slowly opened her eyes.

What kind of eyes were they?

Deep as an eternal night's cold pool, calm and unruffled like ten-thousand-year-old profound ice, yet in the depths of those eyes, a certain longing seemed to boil.

She slowly rose, her movements incredibly graceful, every subtle curve seemingly conforming to the pulsation of the Netherworld Law.

Her black gown flowed like water with her movements, inadvertently outlining slender curves that could make any man's Bloodline surge.

Through the slit in her gown, a pair of jade-like legs, whiter than frost and snow, perfectly flawless, were faintly visible.

Each light step caused her skirt to sway slightly, the jade-like legs like congealed cream and the ink-dark color of the skirt creating an extreme visual impact.

Her long hair, dark as ink and flowing like a waterfall, cascaded down, each strand distinct and shimmering with a faint luster. A few strands casually draped over her chest, further accentuating the exposed, snow-white neck and collarbone skin.

Her face was also exquisitely beautiful, so perfect it was almost unbearable to profane.

She was barefoot, her ankles slender and delicate, the arch of her foot graceful, and her delicate toes like meticulously carved jade shells.

Those jade feet stepped lightly, as if weightless, on the bone-chilling Netherworld stone floor, carrying a lazy yet noble posture. She ascended the towering throne step by step, then reclined upon it in an incredibly comfortable position, tilting her head slightly, gazing indifferently down at the man who was still prostrate on the ground.