This is an Emperor’s Aura sufficient to allow transcendence.
When it breaks free from its shackles, rampaging aimlessly towards the Four Continents, it resembles a transcendent mighty being, fallen upon the Divine Land, using its remnants to protect the masses.
Even another transcendent giant is powerless to gather it back.
Shen Yi doesn’t engage in those meticulous tasks, like tiling, using this Emperor’s Aura to isolate the entire Heavenly Dao with precision. The two sects would never leave him such ample time.
He can only rudely overturn this bucket of glue, letting them return to where they came from.
Living transcendents might get assimilated by the two sects over the long stalemate; the Human Emperor fears this, and Shen Yi is equally apprehensive, especially after witnessing the actions of several Great Freedom Bodhisattvas that day when he stepped into the Imperial City, making him clearly realize this point.
Before achieving Undying and Undying, which of these Bodhisattvas weren’t sovereigns who climbed their way up through brambles and thorns? But learning that what they painstakingly entrusted in the Heavenly Dao might be erased by themselves, these Bodhisattvas, who had tasted immortality, wouldn’t hesitate to kneel on the ground.
Shen Yi pondered for many days on the Dragon Throne; he should indeed thank the Ten Thousand Demon Hall for removing his Dao Fruit and Fruit Position from the Heavenly Dao, allowing him the courage to stand against the heavens.
Without being Undying and Undying, one can only press forward regardless of the consequences, without retreat!
When time stretches into eternity, the perspective on problems shifts; all catastrophes become tolerable because time will eventually smooth everything over.
Such light-heartedness is composed beyond mortal comprehension.
In their eyes, there are no longer living beings, only hollow and dull general trends.
With one group of people gone, another will follow.
Held by such thoughts, each step is a compromise and retreat... but Shen Yi doesn’t want to retreat; he wants to protect the people now, those familiar faces in his mind, not the collective Human World.
Since living transcendents might be assimilated by the two sects, then it’s best not to have such an existence.
Only the dead transcendent can wholeheartedly protect the Red Dust.
The Yellow Cloud, like a great wave, surges to engulf the sky, growing heavier, as if pulling the entire Sky Curtain to collapse, until it covers the entire Divine Land and continues to spread outward.
The people numbly watch this change, feeling a suffocating pressure.
But soon, they realized something was wrong.
They were simply terrified by the celestial phenomena, hence feeling the pressure, but another group was truly pressed to their knees, their faces flushed, veins bulging; merely using their arms to support their bodies caused them to sweat profusely.
Every medicine has its poison.
For cultivators, Tribulation Power is a heavenly elixir, allowing them to leap in Boundary and soar in strength.
But the essence of this Emperor’s Aura, though Tribulation Power, is mixed with rich Red Dust aura, which requires slow refinement. When the Red Dust flavor accumulates to a terrifying degree, it directly breaks through their Tao Bodies, even affecting their minds, turning into a corrosive poison!
Monks and Immortals alike are now grimacing, gasping for air, saliva stretching from their lips, such miserable appearances hardly speak of any immortal demeanor.
Refugees curiously look over.
Some cultivators find their breaths blocked like sludge, unable to mobilize a fraction, and fear instinctively wells in their eyes, but soon they perceive something wrong and hurriedly turn away.
Yet, it was still a bit late.
The suffering populace is all too familiar with despair; even though the opponent’s reaction was swift, they captured that fleeting expression.
The Immortal Master is afraid.
He’s... afraid of us?
The people’s gazes gradually change from harmless docility to tentative probing, converging into a slightly peculiar light.
This change is slow, but once started, it’s hard to stop.
Many disciples of the two sects wish to tear that person apart, especially seeing an ordinary person suddenly take a cautious step towards them, they sternly rebuke, "Stand still!"
The person trembles slightly, quickly retracting his foot.
But there’s no joy in the cultivators’ eyes; they can clearly see that this group of clothed refugees is shifting towards bloodthirsty beasts, and as time passes, if they cannot recover their mana, such rebukes will be ineffective.
At this moment, as the Yellow Cloud in the Sky Curtain piles up like a mountain.
The Immortal Temple and Buddha Temple built on the high mountains and mansions suddenly shatter, with the deity sculptures collapsing, only half a Buddha head falling to the ground, its cracked eyes staring blankly into nothingness.
In front of the Buddhist Temple, the monks’ faces turn pale, and their hearts skip a beat.
Just as they expected, the originally devoutly worshiping populace now all raise their heads in a daze, staring at the broken Buddha head, lost in thought.
Divine Dynasty, Imperial City.
Officials tremble, Gu Li and Ye Lan stand dazed.
But the most dramatic change in expression has to be Lin Shuya, who kneels straight in the hall, mouth open wide, eyes hollow, staring at the Dragon Throne.
The crisp shattering of the Blood Jade at his ear shatters all his understanding.