On the altar, the burial immortal looked at the formation that was still active and fell into deep thought.

His eyes were indifferent, so cold that they seemed to freeze everything, and slowly moved towards Fang Yingxing, who had fallen to the ground.

The secret art of immortal burial, how powerful, its power seems to come from ancient time and space, when it hits the star, it is like a mountain overturning, and the stars fall to the ground. At the wound, blood gushed out like a fountain, staining his robe and the once glorious altar.

His eyes were closed, as if he had shut out all the hustle and bustle of the world. Those eyes that were once as sharp as lightning and as deep as the sea are now only left with endless darkness. His breath was faint, like a candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment.

The air around him seemed to freeze, except for his gasps, faint and resolute. The wind blew, driving the tips of his hair lightly, but the former majesty had disappeared. His body trembled slightly, as if he was suffering from endless pain.

The Burial Immortal took a slow breath, as if he was a little surprised.

"It's kind of interesting that you're still alive, not an ordinary monk, but you can't subvert everything, you can only die." The burial immortal sneered, and sealed his right hand, wanting to completely erase him.

Just as the Burial Immortal was about to kill him completely, an unusual aura permeated.

It was the breath of dark matter, it was a mixture of hatred and coldness. This breath makes people tremble, but it seems to contain infinite power. It is an indescribable charm, just like the frost flowers in winter, although cold, but unique and beautiful.

Fang Yingxing's body seemed to have become an endless abyss. The dark matter that gushed out, like black streamers, instantly enveloped him. His body began to tremble slightly, every wound was healing, every inch of skin was being reborn.

He stood up slowly, as firm as a mountain. His eyes were cold, but full of life. It was a life that struggled back from the brink of death, a hope of rebirth.

Every cell in his body was recovering, and his breath was getting stronger and stronger.

At this moment, he seemed to be with heaven and earth, living in symbiosis with all things. The breath of dark matter, the aura of hatred and coldness, all melted into his body and became a part of him.

His eyes became indifferent, as if he had seen through all the joys and sorrows of the world. It was the ultimate indifference, with a deep chill. His aura also began to climb, becoming cold and terrifying, as if it was about to freeze everything around him.

A trace of solemnity appeared on the face of the burial immortal, because this person's aura was completely different, and it seemed that it was not a person.

"No, you can't live......" powerful as a burial immortal, there was some confusion in his eyes.

Fang Yingxing was surrounded by ancestral dark matter.