RPAGF Chapter 1187 Flipping the Table
Chapter 1187 Flipping the Table
Taiyu Xingyuan, the Eternal Night Immortal Palace, is a palace built by the eighteenth prince.
The entire palace seemed to be shrouded in eternal darkness, where even light seemed to be swallowed up. Only the ancient star stones embedded in the dome emitted a few faint rays of light, like the last breath of a dying star, barely illuminating a small area.
Deep within the celestial palace, a throne stands atop it, forged from Netherworld Black Iron. Its entire body is pitch black, gleaming with a cold metallic luster. The armrests are adorned with ferocious totems of hell beasts, each scale pattern flowing with a chilling aura, their fangs bared as if ready to devour anyone, radiating a terrifying pressure that sends shivers down one's spine.
At this moment, the eighteenth prince was sitting on the throne, surrounded by a layer of black mist. His fingers gently tapped the armrest, and the "thump thump thump" sound was amplified infinitely in the deathly silent palace, like the beating of a giant drum. Each sound struck the tip of one's heart, making people inexplicably hold their breath and even subconsciously slow down their breathing.
Not far below him, a white-robed golden immortal stood respectfully, his robes fluttering even without wind, surrounded by pure, immortal immortal power, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness. His face and temperament bore a six or seven-tenths resemblance to the Celestial Lord of the Vault, but between his brows was an undisguised anxiety, as if shrouded in an unyielding cloud of sorrow.
It was a ninth-grade Golden Immortal immortal incarnation left by the Celestial Lord of Qiong Gao in the Taiyu Star Abyss.
"Your Highness..." Seeing the Eighteenth Prince remain silent for a long time, with the dim light of the star stone in the dome casting flickering shadows on his face, the white-robed golden immortal finally couldn't help but urge him, his anxiety almost overflowing, "Please send someone to save my true self and Fellow Daoist Ziyuan as soon as possible, they... they really can't hold on for much longer!" He raised his head slightly, his fingers under his white robes clenched white with tension, and even the immortal power surrounding his body showed a slight disorder, revealing his inner anxiety.
"Fellow Daoist Qiong Gao, do not worry. I will certainly not stand idly by." The tapping on the Dark Throne suddenly stopped. The Eighteenth Prince was silent for a moment. His voice, which came from the black mist, carried a hint of reassurance, but also contained an undeniable composure, as if everything was under his control. "I am just considering who should be asked to take action."
As he spoke, the Eighteenth Prince gently stroked the prison beast totem on the armrest with his fingertips. The cold touch spread from his fingertips, as if it could make his thoughts clearer: "A sixth-order quasi-immortal king, is he really all of the thirteenth prince's trump cards?"
"This..." The immortal avatar of the Celestial Lord of the Azure Sky paused, his anxiety freezing for a moment, unsure how to answer. Although the distress message from his true self clearly stated that he and Daoist Ziyuan were surrounded by a sixth-tier quasi-Immortal King, he couldn't be sure if that was the truth. The Thirteenth Prince had already subtly schemed against them twice; who knew if this was another deliberate bait, waiting for them to fall into a trap? He lowered his eyes, his white sleeves swaying slightly, concealing an unspeakable apprehension, and a layer of cold sweat had silently seeped from his back.
"It seems I need to make a trip to the Boundless Abyss." After a moment of contemplation, the eighteenth prince's black mist surged, as if he had made a decision, and he said somewhat heavily.
"Your Highness, you...you don't mean to ask Senior Wuwang for help?" Upon hearing this, the immortal avatar of the Celestial Lord of the Vault of Heaven suddenly looked up, his eyes filled with astonishment, and even his voice rose several decibels. Ancestor Wuwang was the pillar of their lineage, the Eighteenth Prince's most solid support, and the only ninth-order Quasi-Immortal King in the entire faction. His prestige was enough to make the entire Immortal Kingdom tremble, and ordinary Quasi-Immortal Kings would show respect even when mentioning his name.
“Not bad.” The Eighteenth Prince’s voice became more resolute, and two golden rays suddenly shone in his dark eyes, piercing through the black mist with a terrifying sharpness, as if they could see through all illusions. “As long as Senior Wuwang makes a move, no matter what schemes or traps the Thirteenth Prince has hidden, or how many killing schemes he has set up, Senior Wuwang can break them all with his own strength.”
As he spoke, he tapped the armrest of the throne again with his fingers. This time, his voice was no longer heavy, but rather carried a sense of certainty that he had the upper hand. "Thirteenth brother, let me see which of us brothers will have the last laugh."
"Let's go, follow me to the Abyss of Nothingness."
As soon as he finished speaking, the eighteenth prince slowly rose from the dark throne. His figure became even more upright in the dim light, like a sharp sword about to be drawn from its sheath. The black mist around him surged like a living thing, stirring up wisps of cold air that caused the temperature in the palace to drop sharply, and the surrounding air directly froze into ice.
Immediately afterwards, he waved his hand, and a dark immortal power overflowed from his palm. The void in front of him instantly twisted and cracked like shattered glass, with dark fissures spreading like a spider web, eventually forming a spatial portal tens of thousands of feet high. Within the portal, chaotic energy churned, and the trajectory of stars on the other side could be vaguely seen, exuding a profound aura that spanned billions of years of void.
The eighteenth prince lifted his foot and stepped into the spatial portal. The black mist followed him, leaving only the faint sound of his robes brushing against the air. The immortal avatar of the Celestial Lord of the Vault dared not hesitate for a moment. He quickly composed himself and followed closely behind, stepping into the portal. His figure instantly disappeared into the distorted void, and the spatial portal slowly closed, restoring the palace to its deathly silence once more.
......
Time flies like an arrow, and before we know it, millions of years have passed.
In the Primordial Immortal Realm, a majestic divine mountain pierces the clouds. On its mountainside, a green stone pavilion is built against the mountain. Outside the pavilion, clouds and mist swirl around, like light gauze dancing. Occasionally, cranes carrying lingzhi mushrooms fly through the mist, leaving behind a few clear cries that break the tranquility of the mountain and add to the celestial atmosphere.
Su Mo sat at the stone table, his fingertips twirling a dark gold ancient book. The edges of the pages bore the marks of time, and obscure ancient runes were engraved upon them, emanating a faint Daoist aura. It was a treasure he had found in the Dark Ruins Immortal Lord's natal immortal domain. He was engrossed in reading it when suddenly the runes on his fingertips trembled slightly, and the pages moved without wind, making a soft "rustling" sound, as if they were alive and reminding him of something.
"coming!"
Su Mo's brows twitched, and he looked up at the chaotic void. His gaze was like a sword, piercing through the barrier of the Primordial Immortal Realm and reaching beyond trillions of years, so that he could see the figure rushing towards him clearly.
There, a figure strode through the air. It was an old man in a gray robe, his white hair as white as frost, casually tied back with an ordinary wooden hairpin, yet his face was as ruddy as a baby's, showing no signs of age. An old gourd of wine was tied around his waist, and no aura of power emanated from him; he seemed like just an ordinary old man from the mountains, who had just returned from a leisurely stroll in some blessed land. Yet, with each step he took, he traversed billions of eons of chaotic void, his speed exceeding ten times that of the Dark Ruins Immortal Lord, a seventh-tier quasi-Immortal King, as if he were stomping the endless void into a tiny space.
The old man's gaze was calm and unwavering, yet he precisely locked onto the direction of the Primordial World. His seemingly slow steps concealed a sense of oppression that could make even an eighth-order Quasi-Immortal King tremble.
"It's actually that old bastard, Ancestor Wuwang." Su Mo put down the ancient book, tapped his fingertips lightly on the stone table, making a crisp sound, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes. "Just for a sixth-order quasi-immortal king, is it really necessary to flip the table like this?"
"It seems that I will have to break through my cultivation level ahead of schedule."
......