Beside the emperor, Pei Yanci's eyes were also bloodshot, like two raging flames. The anger and worry bursting from his eyes almost ignited the surrounding air.
His gaze was fixed on that red figure, so small yet so incredibly resolute in the vastness of the world.
It was as if as long as his gaze was firm enough, it could infuse him with an endless source of power.
At the border of Zhaoning Kingdom, countless people also looked solemn, their eyes fixed on the sky, their gazes filled with worry and concern for the regent.
Their hearts pounded violently with every rise and fall of her body, as if bound tightly to that red figure by an invisible thread.
The white-clad Heavenly Dao figure flickered like a ghost, followed by a fierce attack.
This strike, like a blinding white lightning bolt, carried a devastating force that tore through the sky and struck straight at Qin Qianluo.
Qin Qianluo's figure instantly flew backward uncontrollably like a kite with a broken string, streaking across the sky like a shooting star before crashing heavily to the ground.
The dull thud of the impact was like a heavy hammer blow, striking the hearts of everyone present and making their souls tremble.
For a long time, she did not stand up. The whole earth seemed to be gripped tightly by fear at this moment, falling into a deathly silence.
Everyone's hearts felt as if they were being gripped by an invisible and icy hand, the pain almost causing them to faint.
Everyone was praying silently in their hearts, and their prayers were like an invisible force that gathered together.
Hopefully, that red figure can rise proudly once more and continue its desperate struggle against the will of Heaven.
At this moment of utter despair, a scholar standing behind the emperor could no longer suppress the surging grief and indignation within him, which erupted like a volcano.
He suddenly tilted his head back, facing the sky, and roared out with all his might.
The voice resounded like a great bell, echoing through heaven and earth, as if conveying the indomitable spirit and struggle in the heart to every corner beyond the nine heavens.
"Crimson flames engulf the nine heavens, phoenix beaks peck open the chaotic feast. Blood splatters the starry sky, yet the handle is still held; bones fill the Milky Way, yet the whip remains unreeled."
"I dare to rip out the heart of Heaven's Way, to grind the very heavens to dust. With mortal hands capable of igniting the world's flames, what fear is there of divine rules pressing down on my shoulders!"
This poem, brimming with murderous intent, is like a massive boulder, carrying the force of a thunderbolt, suddenly thrown into a lake as still and oppressive as death.
The roar, once unleashed, instantly stirred up a tidal wave in the seemingly frozen atmosphere, as awe-inspiring as a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing down.
It was like a dazzling beam of light, piercing straight through layers of gloom with unstoppable force, illuminating the depths of Qin Qianluo's heart.
This was not only an inspiring encouragement to her, but also like a torch of hope lit for her in the abyss of endless darkness.
Every flickering flame provides her with an immense strength to continue moving forward and fight against the forces of nature to the very end.
At the same time, this poem vividly portrays the people's intense hatred and resentment towards the Way of Heaven, which is like a raging, turbulent sea.
Each word was like an incomparably sharp blade, filled with resentment and hatred, piercing fiercely at the cold, ruthless, and indifferent heart of Heaven.
This hatred, flowing with the rhythm of the poem, surged and churned like a river, as if to expose to the world all the outrageous evils of Heaven without reservation.
Let them be exposed in broad daylight and brought to justice.
At this critical moment when life and death hung by a thread, this poem was roared out of the scholar's mouth with all his might, like a thunderclap piercing the sky.
It is both a rousing battle drumbeat for Qin Qianluo, and every powerful syllable seems to be cheering her on.
It inspired her to muster her courage, forge ahead, and overcome the numerous difficulties she faced.
It is also an open challenge to the will of Heaven; it is the weak in dire straits confronting the powerful who are high above.
It is an ordinary mortal making a fearless challenge to a self-righteous god.
It vividly demonstrates the unwavering determination of the people, even if it means being shattered to pieces or having their brains spilled, to never bow to fate or succumb to power.
The people were not ignorant; although before, they had only a vague understanding of the harsh reality they were about to face, as if they were groping in the fog.
But everything I had just heard and witnessed was like a painting woven from blood, tears and suffering.
In a shocking way, the cruel truth is presented to them without reservation.
They knew in their hearts that if the Regent lost this contest of overwhelming power, he would be shrouded in the shadow of the supreme authority and brutal rule of Heaven.
Everything in the world will be ruthlessly crushed like ants, and no one will be able to survive.
The entire world will plunge into an abyss of darkness from which there is no return, into endless pain and despair.
Since fate has forced them into this desperate situation with no way out, as if they were standing on the edge of a cliff, they have no choice but to fight to the death.
If we fight with the determination to die, perhaps we can find a faint glimmer of hope in this pitch-black abyss.
They knew that in this battle where the disparity in strength was like heaven and earth, they could hardly provide the Regent with any substantial assistance.
After racking their brains, the only way they could express their support and determination to fight was through poetry.
At this moment, the spirit of the literati is fully displayed in these stirring verses.
It is a kind of integrity that has been tempered by time and refined by history, and has penetrated deep into the soul and marrow.
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