Star Trace Gate

Palace of the Immortal.

The aura of human fortune, hidden within the purple hue, surged forth from that "square magic treasure," like a tranquilly flowing river, not only inexhaustible but also showing no signs of drying up.

The dense, continuous energy poured down, completely enveloping the storyteller's body and shielding him from the all-pervasive, devouring gray mist around him. This ensured that he could continue exploring forward without consuming his spiritual power, blood energy, or soul power.

However, this method cannot be sustained indefinitely, because while the storyteller's luck can temporarily resist the gray fog, it is far from sufficient to completely dispel the devouring power of this place. Moreover, once his luck is exhausted, going further will be more dangerous, which is equivalent to losing the ability to "return safely".

But for the storyteller now, if he doesn't choose to take a gamble, it's definitely a dead end.

The clues held by the four perpetrators have all run out, and the Zhao and Sun families are also watching with predatory eyes. If this trip cannot help the blind man retrieve his inherited essence, nor find the item he wants, then even if the Li family wants to help with all their might, they won't be able to find a reasonable and legal reason.

The four of them entering the tomb represent their last chance to turn the tide, so they have to fight... they definitely have to fight.

As we all know, this "human fortune" is not exclusive to any one person. For example, ancient dynasties that ushered in an immortal era, feudal lords who control a region, powerful sects and blessed lands, ancient clans with rich heritage, and heroes who receive offerings from others... These forces and individuals may also accumulate their own fortune.

However, while this fortune is not unique to any one person, it does vary in strength. For example, the emperors of past dynasties were all people blessed with great fortune by divine pardon, their destinies were extremely special, and they were born to bear the weight of heaven and earth. Therefore, after they attained enlightenment, they possessed the ability to invisibly gather the fortune of the world, and their honor and disgrace throughout their lives were related to the rise and fall of their fortune.

As they embark on the path of cultivation, their fortune will flourish even more with the improvement of their cultivation level. Therefore, every human emperor in history is born with fortune in their mouth. Although they are weak, it is innate and not something that ancient clans and families gradually develop through reproduction, plunder, expansion, and accumulation.

Based on Little Bad King's current exploration of the power of fortune, the accumulation of fortune and its strength can be roughly divided into three levels.

At the very beginning of the birth of fortune, when it surges outward, its specific appearance is a light white mist; then, as it rises, it gradually turns purple, which is what people usually call "purple aura coming from the east"; and as it rises further, that is the level of turning from purple to gold...

Little Bad King is currently at the fourth rank and possesses a very stable and prosperous prefecture-level territory. Therefore, his current fortune manifests as a purple aura with a hint of golden light.

By this standard, the fortune that the storyteller draws from the "square magic weapon" is clearly of a much higher rank than Ren's, because the golden light contained within this fortune is significantly stronger and more solid.

"Tap tap...!"

The storyteller walked steadily through the Hall of Immortality, moving straight ahead.

He felt his luck slipping away, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

To be honest, he really didn't want to use the fortune within the square magic weapon unless absolutely necessary. Because for him, every bit of that fortune used was extremely difficult to recover, as it had long since lost its source, like a branch without roots, unable to grow again…

He carefully controlled the flow of his vital energy, trying his best not to deplete it excessively, and then walked forward for a very, very long time...

Luck is something that can defy the Heavenly Dao. With its protection and influence, the buzzing whispers in the Undying Hall completely disappeared, leaving only endless gray mist surging.

"Weng...!"

Always remember, there will be reverberations.

Just as the storyteller was caught in a dilemma and was considering whether to turn back, he suddenly sensed an extremely terrifying Dao intent surging within him.

That sense of the Great Dao was like an oil lamp illuminating this endless gray fog; its appearance was abrupt and extremely jarring.

It floated in the center of the gray fog like a firefly, bright and dazzling, rising endlessly.

"That's it...that's what I've been looking for!"

The storyteller only had a slight sense of the origin of that Great Dao, and he was extremely excited, with an expression of climax appearing on his face for the first time.

He went through countless hardships, running around like a stray dog ​​in this illusory village, desperately trying to find the meaning of the Great Dao before him.

No, to be more precise, it should be to find the "original power" hidden within this Great Dao, which is a divine object that he, as an intruder, has dreamed of for many years.

It's finally here, right before my eyes!

The storyteller's face flushed red with excitement, a thrill that sent shivers down his spine. He hadn't felt this way in far too long; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd truly been happy…

The primal power I've been searching for is right before my eyes—how can I let it slip away?!

Without hesitation, the storyteller activated the square magic weapon, drawing out the energy even more violently, and then condensed it into a giant hand that pierced straight through the gray mist and reached forward.

"Hurrah!"

The purple-gold hand formed from the condensation of fortune instantly pierced through the gray mist, its aura rising to its peak and enveloping that cluster of Dao intent.

"Boom!"

That cluster of Dao intent floating in the gray mist, like a startled firefly, suddenly released a terrifying and overwhelming aura, attempting to resist the flow of fortune.

"Weng...!"

The aura of the purple-gold hand surged together with the intent of the Great Dao, as if two laws of heaven and earth were clashing and consuming each other, burning together in this gray mist land.

"Damn it, I'd rather waste half my luck today than not take you down...!" The storyteller mobilized his divine sense, filling his purple-gold hand with it, while fiercely determined to fight that great Dao intent to the death.

He knew perfectly well that if he wanted to use his fortune to dissolve the Dao's intent before him, it would be an enormous drain on his resources, but it was a choice he had to make out of necessity. Although this fortune, without its source, was unlikely to grow or regenerate, the primordial power contained within the Dao's intent was far more important, and he absolutely had to obtain it…

“Boom boom…!”

A thunderous roar resounded, and the surrounding gray mist churned violently, showing signs of instability in the void.

"It's almost done, it's almost done...!" The storyteller thought he was about to succeed, so he became even more determined to activate his luck.

"Shh!"

Unexpectedly, just as the two sides were locked in a stalemate, an extremely faint soul shadow vaguely emerged from the meaning of the Great Dao.

The ghostly figure was indistinguishable as either male or female, nor could its beauty or ugliness be discerned. One could only vaguely discern that the ghostly figure was humanoid, rather than originating from some alien race.

The soul shadow sat cross-legged within the essence of the Great Dao, appearing incredibly blurry, yet radiating a terrifying and overwhelming pressure.

"Take your paws back. This isn't something you can handle. Get lost."

A slightly crude and cold voice instantly entered the storyteller's ears.

He was immediately startled and thought to himself, "Holy crap... Could it be... that there really are immortals in this Hall of Immortality? That's impossible...!"

Indeed, he was extremely shocked, because he was an intruder and knew far more about the history of the Illusionary Village than Ren Ye, and had inadvertently seen through some of the hidden meanings of this place.

The existence of this illusory divine tomb is so ancient that it cannot be traced back, and there is also a huge time span between the era of the old master and the present, which may be thousands of years or tens of thousands of years, in short, it spans endless years...

Throughout these long years, apart from Zhou Taozhi entering the Hall of Immortality, no other living person has ever set foot in this place.

In other words, the soul shadow before us may have come from the era of the former master, or it may have come from even further back.

How the hell is this possible?! Even if a god perished here, his divine soul and Dao intent could not possibly have traversed the long river of time and remained intact to this day.

Why could that ghostly figure speak? Why could it be so lucid and tell itself to leave?! It was clearly in a state of abnormal existence... This is unbelievable!

"Heh, this mere wisp of severed fortune actually dares to try and dissolve the essence of the Great Dao?!"

Soul Shadow spoke again with a hint of sarcasm: "If the root of this fortune were still at its peak, perhaps it could be done... but at this moment it's like a child's urine, unable to quench this ten-thousand-year-old glacier."

"Keep your piss on somewhere useful... Get lost."

That "soul shadow" was clearly a person of little refinement, speaking in a very crude manner, yet every word was insightful and to the point, as if it could see through the source of the storyteller's fortune at a glance.

As the storyteller listened to the faint voice of the ghost, his defenses crumbled and he was filled with despair.

The other party could tell at a glance that his luck was rootless and unsustainable, which was enough to show how terrifying the other party's level was and how confident he was.

There's no chance... No matter how hard he tries, he's destined to be unable to take away the primordial power contained within the Great Dao's meaning today.

The storyteller made hand seals, maintaining the rise of his fortune, while pleading, "Let...let me take him away, please."

"You can only hold on for a quarter of an hour at most. Once your luck is exhausted, you will die and your life will be over." The Soul Shadow did not try to persuade him any further, only pointing out the storyteller's condition.

"...!"

The storyteller was filled with resentment, but had no choice but to accept the fact.

After thinking for a long time, he asked in a hoarse voice, "You should also be an intruder, so how did you end up in the Undying Hall of this illusory divine tomb... Can you answer me?"

The intent of the Great Dao surged, and the soul shadow sat cross-legged upon it, yet there was no response.

The storyteller swallowed hard, and asked again with great reluctance, "Alright... I'm willing to leave, but I really want to know... what your name was when you were alive."

A gray fog swirls, and the place is silent and still.

After waiting for a while, the storyteller saw that the ghost did not respond at all, so he decided not to waste his luck any more and prepared to return the way he came.

"Whoosh... thud...!"

He came slowly, but now he is returning as if fleeing for his life, flying away with a clear purpose.

Throughout countless ages, only Zhou Taozhi has ever been to this place, and he's gone completely mad. But the storyteller not only came, he was even able to fly low over the Undying Hall, which is enough to prove that he is truly someone who can hold his own against any strange event or any expert.

As he sped along, he could feel the surrounding devouring power weakening, while the aura of the Hanging Coffin Land was growing stronger.

Almost there, almost back...

Just then, amidst the still, surging gray mist, the cold voice of the ghostly figure resounded once more.

"Your Majesty."

These two words resonated deeply in the storyteller's ears for a long time.

"Shh!"

He suddenly turned around and looked into the depths of the gray fog, his eyes filled with undisguised astonishment.

"Royal Sovereign...is that its name?" The storyteller's face paled slightly. After a long pause, he thought to himself, "To use a blind man's words, this Soul Shadow is a real braggart...In this mortal realm, the Great Dao has been severed, and the divine beings are long gone. In all these long years, no one has dared to call themselves an Emperor or King...yet he claims to be called the Royal Sovereign?! ​​Isn't that just utter nonsense?"

"If you're so powerful, how come you're imprisoned in this illusory divine tomb?"