Chapter 390 The Last Three Seconds

It will take another twenty seconds for the entrance to the Shadowless King's Mausoleum to be fully opened.

The hot mist rising from the cracks in the mountain instantly spread to the entire top of the Kind Heart Mountain, and the mountain seemed to be covered with a white cap.

However, this cloud-like substance can be seen but not touched. When you touch it with your palm, you can't feel any moisture at all. Instead, you feel a slight burning pain, as if you put your palm on top of a candle and your skin is burning and stinging.

This is not just water vapor, but a different-colored flame mist that helps combustion.

When the ancient lion on the hillside roared with a fiery breath, these misty substances without a substantial form immediately exploded like hot oil!

Even when the violent and blazing flames shattered half of the top of Kind Heart Mountain, the two mothmen cleverly survived.

But the next moment, the blazing high temperature of the oily mist bursting and burning was everywhere, and nothing on the top of Kind Heart Mountain could escape!

Scarlet flames shot up into the sky, like blood-colored mushrooms bursting out from the peaks of the mountains.

But before the flames could fully exert their power, the void vortex hanging in the air was already greedily absorbing this rare and precious heat energy.

The dazzling fireworks rose up like a flying dragon and leaped into the mottled light of the void.

After absorbing this ball of hot energy, the void vortex had expanded to the size of a washbasin, which could accommodate an adult who could barely squeeze in.

But how could such a shabby entrance like a dog hole be worthy of being the eternal resting place of the kings of the great Shadowless Empire? !

The ceremony of opening the royal tomb was still in operation, vowing to tear the rift into a magnificent and huge gate!

The female dancer at the center of the ceremony had completely lost control of the ceremony - she had become a living energy source to maintain the operation of the ceremony.

The Qi Xiang inside the soul body was completely out of control, and the void vortex was endlessly absorbing the power of dismantling and opening the hole in the female dancer's body.

The third-level Qi Xiang alone cannot support the full operation of the opening ceremony that tears the gap between reality and illusion.

The Qi Xiang is almost withered and dried up, and the cracked scriptures that constitute the Qi Xing are dim, and the gaps between the strokes of the scriptures have gathered and merged, as if curled up into a haggard shadow.

But the Qi Jing scriptures without gaps seem to have lost their power.

The Qi Xing, which is on the verge of degeneration, is hungry and out of control, and begins to madly corrode the host's spirit and body, intending to drive the heterogeneous Qi desire to drown the female dancer's consciousness and force her to practice the Qi code to obtain the new Qi power.

But Mary Mostan's body has long been completely captured by the opening ceremony of the royal tomb, just like a puppet manipulated by the ancient shadowless kings across two thousand years.

However, the puppet has now caught fire. Even though the flame is thicker than normal, it still cannot completely burn the puppet's flesh and blood. The pain and damage of burning cannot affect the progress of the royal tomb ceremony. Until death comes, no one can force the female dancer to suspend the ceremony, not even herself.

The dying Qi Xiang struggled hard but still could not completely control the female dancer's body, let alone spread the influence of the sexual phase to practice the principles of Qi.

But even if the sexual phase of Qi can flexibly control the female dancer's body, it is impossible to complete any behavior of practicing the principles of Qi.

The gravel and stones on the top of the Kindness Mountain have been broken into dust that can no longer be broken. Under the strong attraction of the vortex of the void, a tornado like a sandstorm rushed into the sky. She has nothing to disassemble.

There was only one living creature left on the top of the Kindness Mountain, where a sandstorm tornado was rising. But there was something extremely terrifying lurking in that dark and deep burning back. Even the desperately struggling Qi Xingxiang did not dare to attack this person - no one could open her eyes.

The female dancer suspended in the air now had twisted limbs like a coiled white python. This was the result of the mutual promotion of the royal tomb ritual and the Qi Xing. By imitating the posture of the Queen of Qi, the increasingly meager Qi power could also be exerted beyond the level.

Qi Xiang, who was about to degenerate back to the second level, had no choice but to transfer the risk of withering and decay to the flesh and blood life body.

The snow-white skin cracked inch by inch like a bursting leather bag, and the blood and flesh fibers between the broken skin seemed to be in a quarrel with their neighbors, swinging and expanding the gaps between the textures.

The soft arms twisted like snakes were directly torn into two pieces, with the middle finger as the midline, and the flesh and blood of the forearm were separated and peeled along the ulna and radius.

The flesh on the ulna side turned up like a python with its head raised like a tongue, and the flesh on the middle finger in the upper part was the scarlet tip of the tongue.

The flesh on the radius side stretched and coiled around the empty exposed bones, like a vicious and poisonous snake hiding in the branches waiting for an opportunity to strike.

Two burning forearm flesh snakes guarded the upper and lower parts respectively, one attacking and one defending. This was the flame dance of a female dancer, just like one of the seven aspects of Saint Agenius of Fire.

The internal organs in the open belly were still beating actively, but the hunger and thirst had spread to this uncontrollable body, and the stomach and intestines inevitably cracked.

The yellow and white fluids that had not been fully digested flowed out, but were greedily sucked by the vortex of the void, and were swept into the sandstorm and flew into the sky.

The intestines, having lost the stability of the belly, fell to the outside world and were greedily sucked by the vortex of the void, thus breaking free from the gravity of the earth's center. The curled intestines immediately flew upward in the strong wind, like a fat thread of flesh and blood floating in a sandstorm and crackling, or like a dirty and ugly intestinal flag waving in the wind.

Unspeakable twisted pain came to Mary Mostan in waves, and her cracked forehead was already oozing out fine drops of sweat, but even these drops of sweat, which symbolized pain, were sucked and swallowed by the vortex in an instant.

The dancer's restless mind had been trying her best to release the vitality of life, trying to heal the cracks on her body.

The healing speed was far behind the greed of the royal tomb ritual, and Qi's sexual phase was already a fish in a dried pond, and she had to struggle with all her might to avoid the fate of degeneration or even complete drying up.

Some extremely bizarre phenomenon occurred as a result, the snow-white skin covered the cross-section of the crack, instead of promoting the re-bonding of the split flesh and blood, the cross-section of the dancer's cracked skin was strangely healed in another way!

The cracked wound seemed to be half healed, but it seemed that it would never heal.

It was as if the dancer was born with cracks all over her body, and her internal organs should be exposed to the air like pearls in a clam shell.

The exposed organs trembled slightly in the dust tornado, as if they were wailing and rejoicing.

The dancer's blue eyes were like the sea, and some kind of change occurred, which was neither a moth nor a heart. Her pupils began to shrink towards the center, forming a slit-shaped vertical pupil like a door that was about to close. In the slit-shaped vertical pupil, there seemed to be endless doors hidden in the darkness, slowly closing and opening.

The things hidden behind the endless door seemed to never appear, and seemed to be about to reveal their true appearance.

An extremely gentle whisper also seemed to sound in the depths of Mary Mostan's consciousness. The tone was very light and thin, like seven drops of blood rain falling into the pelvis, and like seven keys colliding and playing.

The soft and gentle tone of the soft words was gentle and continuous, like a soft and blunt pair of scissors gently falling on the dancer's face, cutting out seven scars that were half healed and half unhealed for her.

The hideous scars are like dancing shackles, which can lock up the face and youth, or release the ever-changing appearance. This is the ever-changing and plastic appearance of the female dancer, just like one of the seven aspects of Saint Agenius of Scissors.

When Mary Mostan added these scars and wounds, the deeper secret of opening also appeared in her mind.

The weak and withered opening phase seemed to be reborn, bursting out a blurred and mottled purple light, and the void vortex symbolizing the ritual of the royal tomb suddenly expanded rapidly. The gate between reality and illusion has become as magnificent as the Pantheon.

At this time, there are only three seconds left before the Shadowless Kings' Tomb is fully opened.