132 No Acquaintances with Immortals

The pattern on the lamp's body flickered as swirls spun in circles. A flame was spontaneously ignited at the mouth of the lamp, giving off an inexplicable demonic charm as it danced. It was like a seductive woman twisting her waist while dancing.

Zhou Wen's gaze was attracted by the strange flame as though it was the most beautiful woman in the world. He couldn't help but become engrossed, unable to shift his gaze away from the flame.

He was extremely determined, so when he felt that something was amiss, he forcefully shifted his gaze away from the flame.

However, when his gaze moved away from the flame, he was attracted by the shimmering patterns on the bronze lamp. Only then did Zhou Wen realize that the patterns weren't simple patterns. Instead, they were ancient words. The demonic powers contained in them were countless times stronger than the flame, making him unconsciously attracted.

How is this happening! Zhou Wen's fingers on his left hand suddenly moved, as though they were playing a piano. However, his mind hadn't willed his fingers to make any movements.

Zhou Wen wanted to use his other hand to control his left hand, but his other hand's fingers moved along with it.

Soon, it wasn't only his fingers, but Zhou Wen's entire body. He moved uncontrollably in an irregular fashion, something he realized to be dancing.

Zhou Wen had never come into contact with dancing, nor was he interested in dancing. He didn't even watch dancing shows, but he was now like a professional dancer. His body danced with the rhythm of the music, making all sorts of moves he had never thought of before.

And no matter how he looked at it, he could see that it was a woman's dance moves. They were enchanting and charming, light and elegant.

However, to have a man dance it made him look extremely comical. If Li Xuan were here to see him, he would probably be rolling on the ground laughing.

Zhou Wen tried his best to control himself, but it was useless. He had repeatedly switched a few Primordial Energy Arts, but they were all useless. His body was squirming more and more intensely, and there were also many coquettish moves included.

Soon, Zhou Wen discovered that his actions were identical to the flickering of the lamp. It was as though he was a puppet controlled by the flame.

Damn it… What the hell is this… Zhou Wen felt as though he was going crazy.

As his dance sped up, the Lost Immortal Sutra which automatically circulated slowed down. As the Lost Immortal Sutra slowed down, Zhou Wen's body gradually slowed down.

When the Lost Immortal Sutra completely stopped circulating, Zhou Wen's body also stopped twisting.

However, the next second, the Primordial Energy in his body circulated in a frenzy, but it was no longer the path of the Lost Immortal Sutra. Instead, it was another Primordial Energy Art that Zhou Wen had never cultivated before.

The patterns on the oil lamp are also a Primordial Energy Art? Zhou Wen was astonished but also somewhat delighted.

This Primordial Energy Art was very odd. It was different from anything Zhou Wen had previously come into contact with. It seemed to have countless odd transformations, and at times, it was light and graceful, at other times as forceful as a storm. It made Zhou Wen have the urge to tear through the air and dance.

Time ticked by. By the time Zhou Wen regained control of his body, he had already mastered the Primordial Energy Art.

The oil lamp that had been floating in the air suddenly lost its radiance and fell to the ground. It returned to its old and damaged state.

Zhou Wen was just about to pick up the oil lamp when he suddenly felt something amiss with his body. The Primordial Energy Art he had just mastered instantly dissipated as the Lost Immortal Sutra began to circulate again.

However, the circulation this time was different from the previous one. Primordial Energy flowed through his body like blood circling his body.

Boom!

Zhou Wen felt his brain buzz as a voice resounded incessantly.

\"If God opposes me, I will slay God… If an immortal opposes me, I will cull the immortal… No exchanges with god… No acquaintances with immortals… I am me…\" The voice was unbridled and savage, but it also had a terrifying power that made his blood boil. It was as if something was stirring in one's heart, eager to poke a hole in the sky.

This voice wasn't unfamiliar to Zhou Wen. Over the countless nights he had cultivated in the Lost Immortal Sutra, the voice had kept whispering into his ear. However, in the past, he couldn't hear the voice clearly.

Today, he finally heard what that voice was saying. It was a woman's voice, but it had a heart-stopping aura. It was as if all living beings from the various worlds would fall prostrate at her feet.

Although Zhou Wen only heard a voice, he couldn't help but envision a scene. Countless deities prostrating themselves on the ground, bowing towards a woman as though on a pilgrimage.

Unfortunately, this was just Zhou Wen's imagination and was able to see the woman's face clearly. He felt that her bearing was incomparable. She was lofty, but she wasn't as holy as an immortal or Buddha. She had a killing aura.

The voice in his mind became weaker and weaker, as if it was about to disperse. In the end, it was almost inaudible.

Zhou Wen vaguely heard a sentence that sounded a little different from the repeated sentence he had just heard: \"My return… will spell… the death of all immortals…\"

However, the voice at the end was so soft that he didn't hear the complete sentence.

Boom!

The Lost Immortal Sutra in his body seemed to explode as all the cells seemed to bind together. It made Zhou Wen suspect if his body had self-destructed.

Falling… Constantly falling…

Zhou Wen felt as though his consciousness had plunged into the deep sea as it constantly plummeted. Finally, his consciousness was completely submerged in the darkness.

Ever since he had mastered the Lost Immortal Sutra, he hadn't had a proper sleep.

Every time he fell asleep, no matter where he was or what time it was, there would be a voice whispering into his ear, akin to scripture chantings by Buddha or a devil's enticements.

Together with the sleep paralysis, anyone else would have gone berserk.

Zhou Wen grinding every day was certainly to raise his strength, but it also included his thoughts of trying to avoid sleeping.

Up to this day, the feeling of being haunted by ghosts finally completely dissipated. Zhou Wen slept soundly as though nothing in the world was more blissful than having a good sleep.

When he woke up and stretched his back, he felt so comfortable that he almost moaned in delight. All his cells seemed to emit comfortable cheers.

Zhou Wen pressed his palm down on the bed to sit up, but when he pressed down, his body bounced up, slamming his head into the ceiling. Half his head was inside the ceiling made of steel and cement, leaving him dangling from it.