In the darkness, Emperor Xuan sat meditating on a red lotus throne, dressed in a plain white robe, his hair disheveled and his brows furrowed, with two golden crescent moons hovering around him.
This was a suffocating void, in the depths of which faint flashes of lightning and dark red nebulae surged, resembling the end of the apocalypse, where everything had already turned to nothingness.
Emperor Xuan's face was pale. He slowly opened his eyes, raised his right hand, and pulled open the robe on his chest, revealing tiny silver lines flowing like they were silver dragons.
The remnant power of the Myriad Dragons Ascending to Heaven was still tormenting him, making him feel that he would hardly recover in a short time.
Recalling the experience of facing the Myriad Dragons Ascending to Heaven, Emperor Xuan's brows furrowed even tighter, his eyes full of unwillingness.
"Could it be that the Primordial Dao Emperor is stronger than the Daoist Emperor?"
