Like countless flesh and blood were blooming extravagantly.
Eons flow by, roaring and crashing, revealing scenes they could never have comprehended.
Above all heavens.
There sat an unfathomable, unimaginably large black shadow.
The figure was too grand, shrouded in black mist, its appearance unclear, like a stone sculpture, but even motionless, it made their bloodlines shudder, and souls feel frozen.
Its eyes were slightly closed, one palm hanging down with a bloodstain, flesh flipped outward, and black blood beads constantly dripping from the wound, diluted over the ages...
Instantly, all the escaping Immortal Kings widened their eyes, feeling a terror from within.
Who is that?
The crimson snow that could bury them was merely transformed from the blood in that palm.
"What on earth is such an existence?"
An old Immortal King murmured, voice trembling with panic.
