Chapter 258
Words:868Update:22/06/29 07:43:17
The monster on the throne stared at him. The entire palace was filled with chaotic shadows. It was as if he had fallen into a bizarre and terrifying dreamland. Only the feeling of suffocation and near death was real.
He felt the white clothes on his body being torn apart by the shadows. When they were peeled off, the pale white pieces fluttered in the air like white silk. He felt cold. When what he had imagined was about to happen, he did not feel the joy of being favored. Instead, he felt endless cold fear.
He closed his eyes.
Suddenly, he felt his body lighten. Then, he was thrown out of the palace and landed on the limestone floor outside. His limbs were broken. He spat out a mouthful of blood.
"Get lost."
That hoarse voice was filled with murderous intent.
"Don't show up in front of me wearing white clothes again."
The broken guqin was also thrown out. Chu Lan sat on the ground, trembling. He found that the palace door was already closed.
He picked up the guqin and staggered out of the Demon Palace. He did not dare to look back.
And in the palace? The palace had already returned to its dark and silent state.
The black figure sat on the throne. The blood-red light in his eyes was like … Blood spurted out of his mouth. The pale moonlight shone in. He let out a deep roar from his throat. He bent his slender and sharp black fingers and covered his face. The shadows twisted wildly.
In the space that was as terrifying as hell, the moon outside the window slowly set in the West Mountains. The sun slowly rose.
The first rays of the morning sun shone into the palace.
The shadows slowly receded and retreated to the corner. The figure of a man slowly appeared on the throne.
His long black hair hung down. A black robe embroidered with blood patterns draped over his body. His hands were pale and slender.
There was a blood-red longsword beside him.
The sword emitted an eerie smell of blood.
The man had a handsome face.
However, there was a strong sense of hostility between his eyebrows. It made people ignore his appearance. They only felt fear instinctively.
He closed his eyes.
There was still a hint of tiredness in his expression that had not yet dissipated.
"Thirty years …"
He slowly muttered each word in a hoarse voice. The Shura Sword beside him let out a low trembling sound.
There was silence for a long time.
The man slowly opened his eyes. Eyes.
His blood-red eyes were like the finest blood-colored glass, emitting a cold and indifferent light in their translucence. However, if one looked closely, it seemed like there was a black flame burning in the depths of his eyes.
It seemed to contain a madness that could devour everything.
He stood up from the throne.
He held the Shura Sword in his hand. The tip of the sword hung down. The black robe, the long shadow, and the gloomy and silent palace.................
He raised his sword and slashed at the void in front of him.
The space in front of him rippled. A dark crack appeared in front of him.
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