Xu Qing shrugged off the remnants of the Nine Heavens Thunder Prison that were gradually dissipating behind him, and the aura of the Imperial Palace Core ahead was as enticing as an ambrosial jade liquid, almost within reach.
However, standing in the way of that final step was a Bodhi Tree, about ten feet tall and completely black as ink.
It stood silently in an absolute void of darkness, with sparse branches and leaves, and a withered form, each black leaf seemingly solidifying the sorrow and vicissitudes of countless eons.
There was no earth-shattering pressure, no all-freezing chill, and no tyrannical destruction.
It merely existed, yet it emanated a heart-palpitating, bone-chilling silence.
This was not the disappearance of sound, but the reduction of the meaning of "existence" itself, an absolute void after "change" had been completely stripped away.
