The True Monarchs descended, and all fell silent.
Those figures, standing atop the dark clouds, each a universe unto themselves, needed neither words nor action. The mere weight of their descending gazes seemed to forcefully suppress the World Honored Golden Light on Spirit Mountain's peak, causing the once-tyrannical and supreme radiance to congeal.
The air grew thick as Golden Liquid, and the flow of time became strange and unpredictable.
Even the eternally echoing Brahma Chanting and the resonant hum of the Laws seemed to be cut off by an invisible barrier, growing distant and indistinct.
Qi Yun's head was bowed, but his gaze was locked on the pure golden ground beneath his feet, which reflected the standoff above.
Gazing at the figures—blurry, yet so majestic they were suffocating—a chaotic and bright yellow light flashed violently in the depths of his eyes.
'Just as I thought!'
