Golden Wheel Holy Emperor

——The spark burns the shackles, and the golden wheel shines upon the ancient times When the first drop of the blood of gods and demons seeped into Guixu Haiyan, nine cracks were carved in the prehistoric life wheel. The shadow of the golden wheel dormant in Ye Xuan's spine was slowly turning with the whine of the Xuanming wind in the North Sea - it was the Taoist body of the self chopped off by the ancient Holy Emperor, and it was also the heaven-killing weapon forged from the bones of three thousand gods and demons when the chaos first opened. In this world, the soul of the ascended person is penetrated by Hunyuan chains, and each lock is branded with Hongmeng purple seal script; deep in the spiritual energy breathed out by the monks, dormant are the threads of cause and effect left by Emperor Wa when he repaired the sky. The blood spilled on the altar on the night when the Ye family was exterminated three years ago manifested the demon pattern of Rahu under the moonlight; the nine-turn Nirvana fire surging in the Yaowang Valley elixir furnace burned the exquisite Taoist seal in Xiao Li's heart - there were sealed the fragments of the Emperor Wa's Cauldron that could recreate the earth, wind, water and fire. Nine turns of the golden wheel, the calamity will be determined by itself. In the eyes of the foundation-building monks, the mysterious "Star Fighting Formation" is actually an ancient star map that has been crushed by the chains of Hunyuan; the immeasurable tribulations that the great tribulation master cannot avoid are nothing but the shackles of divine consciousness branded by heaven for the prisoners. When Ye Xuan activated the incomplete formation eye during the Taixu Sect trial, the remains of the Holy Emperor dormant in the cold abyss of the North Ming Dynasty suddenly trembled - the remnant souls of the Chaos Demon God suppressed in the depths of Guixu smelled the aura of change that caused the Hunyuan chain to break. The river of blood in the Nine Netherworlds Mansion was raging like a boil, not out of fear of the fallen golden wheel fragments in the hands of the young man, but out of fear of the ancient fighting spirit awakening in the golden patterns. The blood-river ancestor's frozen pupils before his death reflected the bloodiest tributary of the Long River of Destiny: The roots of the Jianmu Sacred Tree penetrated the thirty-third heaven, and Xiao Li's burning exquisite heart turned into