No magical treasure in the world, not even a taboo treasure, could possibly measure up to the light unleashed by the broken face of the god. After all, it was the gaze of a god. No matter what almighty cultivation base someone had, even if they had divine abilities and daoist magics that could transform heaven and earth, none of them... could possibly compare to the broken face of the god in the dome of heaven. It came down to a pressure by a greater level of life, and it hung over the heads of the countless species on Revered Ancient, like a death sentence.1

As the wooden box opened, and the shapeless, colorless light emerged, the dome of heaven transformed. The clouds seethed, becoming a sea of fury. The lands below blurred in unprecedented fashion, to the point where nothing could be seen clearly. At the same time, something like chanting could be heard, a sound that could shake the soul, filling heaven and earth, destabilizing the bodies of all beings. It was impossible to say if the chanting was what made the world blur, or if the world twisted and distorted because of the light. Either way, the Eight...7