That was Blore.
When Bai Di's gaze fell on him, his pupils shrank slightly - countless thin chains were wrapped around Blore's body. Those chains were not solid, but translucent and flowing, as if woven from light and shadow.
They swayed gently with his movements, sometimes tight, sometimes loose, as if silently telling of some kind of bondage and struggle.
Blore's face was hidden in the shadows, but Bai Di could still feel his gaze - curious, forbearing, but with a kind of firmness that was almost stubborn.
They walked towards him, and every step seemed to be stepping on the cracks of time, both real and unreal.
Bai Di stood there and suddenly realized——
All this is really coming to an end.
This boundless sea of blood did not arise naturally, but rather was the remnant of divine punishment, an eternal engraving of the supreme will on the rebels.
In the past, "Flame" broke his oath and was eventually killed here by the Supreme and Natasha together with the Forest Keepers.
However, what truly turned this place into an eternal purgatory was the indifferent glance of another God Lord - He and the Forest Ranger jointly forged this world, using tendons and veins as rivers and flesh and blood as tides, to forever imprison the souls of traitors in the cycle of repentance.
The tendons and veins flow through this place, the flesh and blood gather into the ocean, the soul is immortal, and this place will never dissipate.
Those deformed monsters crawling in the sea of blood are the traitors who betrayed their supreme power, repeating their atonement over and over again, burning their souls again and again to make up for the heinous mistakes they committed in the past.
They were once arrogant blasphemers, but now they have become puppets of cause and effect.
Their bones are reshaped in pus and blood, and their souls are burned in the fire of karma, over and over again, in vain to make up for the eternal sins.
Bai Di stared at the scarlet quietly. He had never experienced the past, but when the fragments of memory surged back, it was like tearing his heart and gnawing at his bones.
Bai Di felt that he had clearly never seen the Eight-Eyed Demon Lord in all his memories, but somehow, even the emergence of a trace of memory made him feel heartbroken.
The remaining memories in the mind vibrate in the sea of consciousness, like a rusty blade scraping against the soul.
Could that be his brother? Or... a deeper connection?
He doesn't know either.
The golden grains and silver ears of corn float among the waves of blood. Each grain is a sealed memory, and each ear of corn is a patch for the broken soul.
It was no coincidence that the four of them stepped into this world and happened to face everything that happened tens of millions of years ago.
His elder brother Lou Xun is silent and his identity is a mystery, and the disappearance and reappearance of their classmate Si Weijun is even more bizarre. All of this is like a web of hidden threads woven together.
This sea of blood is an altar, but also a mirror of truth—and what is reflected in that mirror is something that perhaps even the gods would tremble...
"A third-party chess game."
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