After Mo Yu took away the Endless Light Body, the six battered figures above the Futur Ruins remained silent for a long time.
Futur Xuan stood before the barren mountain embedded with the Futur Ancestor Tower. Gazing at the countless horrifying cracks across the tower, his aged face was ashen.
He slowly raised his hand and tucked the damaged Ancestor Tower into his sleeve. His movements were so gentle, as if he feared waking something.
The instant the tower vanished into his sleeve, he felt a chill spread from his palm throughout his body. It was the coldness left behind by the tower's severely damaged spirit, and the sorrow of ten thousand years of accumulation dispersing in a single day.
"Great Elder..." Behind him, a Futur Elder cautiously spoke. "How should we make arrangements for the clan?"
Futur Xuan did not turn around. He merely waved his hand, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. "Seal the mountain. For the next thousand years, the Futur Ancient Clan will no longer concern itself with the affairs of the Great Thousand World."
The Elder trembled. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he remained silent.
He looked at the Great Elder, who seemed like a dying candle that could be extinguished at any moment. Then he bowed deeply and turned to leave.
Futur Xuan stood alone atop the ruins. Gazing in the direction where that silver figure had disappeared, he murmured, "Mo Yu... just how far are you going to go?"
No one answered him. Only the wind swept across the rubble and broken walls.
On the other side, Mohetian held the Maha Yin-Yang Bottle, its cracks horrifying to behold, as if he were cradling a cold corpse.
The yin and yang energies within the bottle had long since