"This whip has never lashed you before—you don't know pain, do you?"
The Source Ancestor cast a cold glance at him, then turned to the Divine King. Seeing the latter's condition was no better than his own, he felt slightly relieved. His gaze then shifted to the door before them.
The patterns on the door, which had twisted earlier, had now reverted to their original forms.
The Source Ancestor's eyes flickered. As the oldest Saint, it was no exaggeration to call him the most learned.
This appeared to be the handiwork of an Immortal, forbidding others from touching it. An Immortal had sealed this portal with power, shutting the path to the Immortal Divine behind it.
Nearby, the Divine King steadied his injuries and once again soared toward the door. However, this time, he refrained from rash action and instead focused on scrutinizing it.
The Source Ancestor drew closer as well, observing for a moment. Suddenly, he saw an anomaly in the pattern—there was a gap.
