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At this moment, within the majestic and solemn inner courtyard of the Heavenly Emperor Holy Dynasty's palace, Holy Lord Nangong Hong sat upright on the dragon throne, his demeanor exuding an unassailable authority.
With his eyes closed in deep concentration, the echoes of the recent report from the shadow guards reverberated in his ears. The news struck him like a thunderbolt, as if an invisible force surged within his chest. Someone had broken through the Nine-Nine Heavenly Tribulation and achieved the realm of a Saint! Moreover, this event occurred in the Northern Region, a desolate land that had seemingly birthed such a shocking existence.
Nangong Hong felt a surge of doubt and concern within him; his brows knitted tightly as his gaze sharpened, as if he could pierce through the fog to uncover the truth behind this matter. He recalled that Ancestor Ye had mentioned unusual movements regarding the Emperor Weapon not long ago. That ancient and mysterious artifact seemed to foreshadow some significant change.
Now, could this emergence of a Saint be intricately linked to the disturbances surrounding the Emperor Weapon? Nangong Hong pondered deeply, his thoughts swirling like a tide, refusing to settle.
Just as he was lost in contemplation, hurried footsteps shattered the tranquility of the palace. A guard stumbled into the grand hall, panic etched across his face, clearly bearing urgent news. After a brief announcement from the guards at the entrance, the soldier rushed into the hall, his voice trembling as he exclaimed, "Holy Lord, something terrible has happened! Han Gang and the System have been extinguished by the Fate Lamp!"
Upon hearing this, Nangong Hong's heart sank sharply, and his expression darkened like stormy waters. He coldly demanded, "What happened? Speak clearly to this Holy Lord!" As he spoke, an invisible pressure enveloped the room, causing the guard to shudder and nearly lose his footing.
The guard trembled as he recounted everything he knew to Nangong Hong. With each word, Nangong Hong's heart stirred with greater turmoil. He thought to himself: Could it be that Han Gang encountered that individual who had just broken through to become a Saint and fell victim to their malicious intent?
Yet even so, as a leader of the Heavenly Emperor Holy Dynasty's System, Han Gang’s reputation should have instilled some caution in others; they would not dare act recklessly against him. Was it possible that other Holy Dynasty experts were involved?
As these thoughts raced through his mind, Nangong Hong's gaze sharpened further. He asked in a deep voice, "Did Han Gang bring back the Fate Lamp?"
The guard quickly retrieved the Fate Lamp from his robes and presented it with trembling hands.
Nangong Hong accepted the Fate Lamp and closed his eyes once more, channeling his immense Saint power to perform the Time-Space Reversal Technique. This was an exceptionally profound secret method that required a Saint Realm expert to utilize temporal forces along with residual traces of one's essence to deduce images from moments past.
If the opponent's realm exceeded his own, it would be difficult to discern clear images; if they were far superior, it could even result in backlash. However, within the territory of the Heavenly Emperor Holy Dynasty, Nangong Hong was not concerned about such outcomes.
As he initiated the technique, an air of mystery and power filled the grand hall. Time and space seemed to warp at that moment as blurred images began to materialize in Nangong Hong's mind. He focused intently on these visions, striving to capture any useful clues that might unravel this enigma.
At that pivotal moment of fate, Han Gang's life force was abruptly extinguished, and the end of his existence came from a finger descending from the heavens.
It bore a power that seemed capable of shaking the very foundations of the universe, akin to the wrath of the divine—impossible to behold, impossible to resist.
Nangong Hong was just about to unveil the identity of the mysterious figure behind that celestial finger.
Yet, at this critical juncture, the atmosphere shifted dramatically; time and space appeared to warp in an instant. An ancient palace, worn by the passage of time, slowly materialized in the void. Its surface was etched with the marks of ages long past, whispering tales of forgotten history.
As the palace emerged, a silhouette gradually took shape—a presence deep and ineffable, as if it had existed alongside heaven and earth for eternity, shining with the brilliance of sun and moon.
A voice of unparalleled authority boomed like thunder in Nangong Hong's mind: "Insects dare to gaze upon the heavens!"
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