Perfection: The Eastern Emperor Bell manifests, I am the Golden Crow Heavenly Emperor

Chapter 119 Burial Ground
Within the pillar of light, several figures shrouded in shadow, their auras distinct from those of the Immortal Realm cultivators, emerged. They knelt in unison towards the Boundary Sea, chanting blasphemous dark prayers, seemingly responding to the terrifying fluctuations emanating from the depths of that distant Boundary Sea!
The leader was none other than an ancient immortal king from the Immortal Realm who had been in seclusion for many years and was highly respected!
Within the Immortal Realm, the greatest traitor and the Dark Coordinates have been completely exposed at this moment!
Inside the Golden Crow Ancestral Hall, the cracked eggshell, under the terrifying pressure and stimulation of being besieged from within and without, and the dramatic changes in the world, let out its final cry of being unable to bear the burden any longer…

"Click——!!!"

Transformation and catastrophe reached their final tipping point at the same moment!

The hazy, primordial air currents, like a floodgate opened, are about to burst forth!

Beyond the boundless darkness and raging, destructive tides of the Boundary Sea, on the distant horizon of the Immortal Realm, a lone boat tossed about by storms, lies another ancient and secluded, eerie territory—the Burial Ground.

This is not a purely deadly realm, but a strange place where the laws of life and death are twisted and intertwined, and the long river of time is silted up and deposited.

The earth was a deep, dark purple, like congealed blood, where strange plants with an eerie glow and ancient corpses wandered silently.

Three moons of different colors hang perpetually in the sky, casting a cold and ambiguous glow.

The air was filled with a thick, decaying stench and a sense of utter desolation, yet strangely contained a faint but tenacious "vitality."

At the heart of the burial ground, deep within a majestic palace built from the skulls of countless enormous creatures, the burial master sits enthroned on a throne crafted from the spine of some kind of cosmic behemoth.

His figure was shrouded in an enormous, jet-black robe that seemed to be woven from night and death, obscuring his face. Only two eerie green flames flickered slowly in the deep shadows of the hood, like lighthouses in the River Styx.

His aura was ancient, obscure, and deathly still, yet it carried a transcendent tranquility, as if he had long seen through the birth and death of eras and the cycle of the heavens.

At this moment, a murky ancient mirror, seemingly formed from the waters of the underworld, floats in front of the deceased.

The mirror did not reflect the scene of the burial ground, but rather, like a distorted window, intermittently displayed the terrifying scene of the eternal dark vortex erupting deep in the boundary sea, the ancient temple of guidance turning from the illusory to the real, and the destructive fluctuations of dark matter boiling and all living beings wailing outside the barrier of the immortal realm.

"It has begun...the real 'Grand Sacrifice'."

The deceased's voice rang out, hoarse and slow, like two ancient tombstones rubbing against each other, devoid of any emotion, only a statement of fact with indifference.

"Using the heavens as firewood and all spirits as candles, we ignite the final flame leading to the 'Source'... Those few in the darkness have finally reached this point."

His deep green gaze seemed to pierce through the ancient mirror, seeing into a deeper depth.

"That junior, Annihilation, couldn't stop it back then, but now this little fellow, burdened with chaos and battle intent... seems to have reached a critical moment as well. Interesting, chaos, battle immortal, Annihilation... can actually be fused into one, attempting to forge a new path? Unfortunately, time... is too tight."

The whispers of the deceased echoed in the empty skull palace, eliciting no response. Only the countless eye gems, now devoid of their luster, embedded in the surrounding walls seemed to bear silent witness.

He slowly raised a hand wrapped in a pale, bandage-like shroud and gently touched it in front of the ancient mirror.

The scene in the mirror changed, revealing the cracked eggshell of the Golden Crow Ancestral Hall, as well as the black pillars of light and the figures of traitors erupting from several abnormal points within the Immortal Realm.

"The Immortal Realm... remains the same. There are always some foolish fellows who think that by siding with the darkness they can gain a mere existence or the power to surpass all living beings. Little do they know that in the Great Sacrifice, besides 'firewood' and 'candle wick,' what third identity is there?" The Burial Master's tone carried a hint of barely perceptible mockery, a detached judgment of the insignificant beings' overestimation of their abilities and shortsightedness.

He then turned his gaze to the burial ground beyond, to the barrier of the burial realm that separated this place from the outside world, formed by countless corpses and resentments.

Beyond the barrier, one could vaguely sense the faint tremors emanating from the destructive tide of the Boundary Sea, as well as the terrifying aftershocks of the Dark Emperor's descent that made all paths bow down.

But he made no move.

"Issue my decree." The Burial Lord's voice suddenly became majestic and cold, instantly spreading throughout the core area of ​​the Burial Ground and resounding in the hearts of all sentient beings in the Burial Ground.

"The burial site is completely sealed off effective immediately!"

"Until the dust settles on this 'Grand Sacrifice to the Outside World,' or before any 'unspeakable changes' touch the barrier of the Burial Realm... no being may leave the Burial Ground for any reason, nor may they have any form of proactive contact with the outside world! Those who disobey... shall be considered to have betrayed the Burial Ground, and their souls and bones shall be eternally imprisoned in the 'Unending Tomb'!"

The cold edict, carrying the supreme authority of the burial ground and an unquestionable, deathly will, was imprinted deep within the soul of every creature in the burial ground.

In an instant, the entire burial ground became even more deathly silent.

Those eerie figures that had been lingering on the fringes, their eyes filled with curiosity or greed for the outside world, retreated like a tide, disappearing into the depths of the dark purple earth or into shadowy caves.

The mournful winds ceased blowing, the flowing River Styx slowed its pace, and even the light of the three moons seemed to dim slightly.

The entire burial ground, like an enormous tomb, voluntarily sealed itself with a coffin lid, isolating itself from all external light and darkness, life and death, noise and destruction.

The burial master withdrew his gaze from the ancient mirror. The two eerie green flames flickered slightly before slowly fading away, as if sinking into eternal contemplation or slumber. Only his hoarse, deep voice echoed one last time around the throne:
"The Dark Sacrifice... the Blood Feast of the Gods... what do they have to do with my burial ground?"

"All we need to do is... observe the situation and guard this place... our final 'destination' and 'starting point'."

"The turmoil of the outside world will eventually subside. Whether it is eternal darkness or a fleeting spark... in the end, it will all come to 'here'."

"Wait...wait for the final 'guest'...or 'nourishment'..."

The sound completely dissipated, and the skull palace returned to deathly silence. The scene in the ancient mirror gradually blurred and dimmed, eventually turning into a pool of murky still water, no longer reflecting the outside world at all.

Burial Ground, a special entity that exists outside the order of the heavens and the encroachment of darkness, chose the most thorough and essential response at this critical moment when the heavens wept blood and all worlds collapsed—absolute isolation and silent observation.

They transformed themselves into an isolated island floating on the edge of a destructive tidal wave.

A massive tomb coldly observes the upheaval outside, offering neither assistance nor taking advantage of the situation, simply waiting quietly... waiting for everything to settle down, waiting for the final "result" to be delivered to its doorstep.

(End of this chapter)