However, recently, some strange things have happened on this star.
The once stable space began to distort, and some ancient restrictions started inexplicably failing.
More terrifyingly, some cultivators who came to seek treasures silently disappeared after entering certain areas.
Nobody knows what happened, only that the air in those disappearance zones is permeated with a faint gray mist, striking fear into hearts.
At this moment, deep within the star, in an underground palace shrouded by countless powerful restrictions.
Dozens of powerful figures sit cross-legged, their auras strong yet subtle, each at least in the late Nascent Soul stage, with a few having even touched the Divinity Transformation Stage!
They are the high-ranking members from top forces across the Southern Celestial Star Cosmos, temporarily setting aside their grievances for the Heart of the Stars, joining forces to break the restrictions.
However, their expressions are unusually solemn, even tinged with a trace of fear.
Because just now, the warning array they jointly set up suddenly sounded the strongest alarm!
"What's going on? What could break through our warning array?" an elder asked in a deep voice, with a slight tremor in his voice.
"I don't know... that presence... it's unfamiliar... yet extraordinarily powerful... and carries a nauseating sense of evil!" another cultivator responded, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
At that moment, the palace's grand door, a massive stone gate that erosion over countless eras couldn't budge, not even by a Divinity Transformation Stage cultivator, emitted a heavy creak.
The stone door slowly opened, revealing the scene outside.
There was no enemy, only one person.
It was a boy.
He looked merely sixteen or seventeen years old, handsome, with an oddly enchanting aura. His upper body was bare, revealing bronze skin covered with fierce scars.
Between his brows was a faint gray mark!
He was the boy who had been completely assimilated in the core of the Withered Star!
He stood quietly at the doorway, his gaze empty and cold, devoid of any emotion.
"Who are you?!" an elder in the Divinity Transformation Stage shouted harshly, simultaneously channeling the energy within, ready to strike at any moment.
The boy did not speak, merely lifting his head slowly, his gray eyes sweeping over all the cultivators in the palace.
As his gaze passed over them, all the cultivators felt a bone-chilling cold rise from the depths of their souls!
As if scrutinized by a higher-dimensional existence, all their secrets, all their weaknesses, were laid bare at this moment!
"Target... found..."
The boy uttered in a cold, mechanical voice, devoid of any emotion.
"Target? What target?" The elder's mind was filled with blaring alarms.
The boy ceased wasting words, the gray mark between his brows glowing brightly!
In an instant!
An indescribably terrifying will swept through the entire palace like a storm!
This will was stronger, purer, and more corrosive than ever before!
It was not just a spiritual attack but a distortion targeting the soul's origin!
"Ugh!"
The cultivators in the palace let out agonized screams!
Their bodies trembled violently, gray patterns starting to appear between their brows!
Their consciousness felt as though bound by countless cold tentacles, trying to drag them into an endless abyss!
"What is this power?! My Primordial Spirit... my Primordial Spirit is collapsing!"
"No! My Dao Heart! My Dao Heart is being corroded!"
"Help! Help!"
The powerful cultivators, at this moment, seemed as frail as ordinary humans, powerless in the face of the unknown terrifying force!
The boy merely stood silently, not moving a single step.
The gray mark between his brows continued to flicker, the terrifying will it emitted flooding into the palace like a tide, eroding the souls of all living beings.
He was the "seed."
The "vessel."
The "executor" clearing obstacles for the great existence.
His mission was to locate and "calibrate" other potential "seeds," or eliminate those who could not be assimilated, potentially hindering the great arrival, the "impurities."
And the cultivators in this palace, their strong auras, their desire for origin power, marked them as targeted.
Perhaps they were potential "vessels," or perhaps they were "impurities" needing elimination.
Either way, their fate was sealed at that moment.
Their struggles appeared so small and laughable in those vacant gray eyes.
"The great... will... descends..."
The boy spoke again in his cold tone, as if pronouncing the verdict of the grim reaper.
The screams within the palace gradually faded, replaced by an eerie murmur.
The eyes of those cultivators turned hollow, the gray patterns between their brows deepening until they formed faint gray marks.
They were assimilated.
Became new "seeds."
Became extensions of the great existence's will.
And those few who couldn't be assimilated, their bodies rapidly withered, turning to ash, their souls consumed entirely by the gray mist.
The entire process involved no earth-shattering energy clashes, no sky-breaking spell confrontations.
Only a silent, yet hair-raising erosion and assimilation.
This is the terrifying nature of the "seed." They do not rely on traditional cultivation systems; they are manifestations of higher-level laws, carriers of dark will.
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