As time passed, more and more immortal cultivators drawn by its fame made their way to Star-Moon City, and their cultivation levels varied wildly. There were Spirit Movement Stage Rogue Cultivators who had only just set foot on the immortal path, and there were Supreme Elders from famous sects and great factions. All sorts could be found; even Spirit Division Stage cultivators could be seen from time to time.
That morning, with only half a month left before the auction, two streaks of light appeared unhurriedly within sight, some ten thousand li southwest of the city.
When they drew a little closer, the figures within the streaks of light could be seen clearly. On the left was a handsome White-Haired Youth.
That was right. His hair was even whiter and more flawless than the snowflakes drifting down from the sky.
His face was handsome to the extreme, almost bewitchingly so.
Yet in stark contrast to this was his pair of eyes, filled with a sense of the vicissitudes of time.
His ears were also very different from ordinary people's—they were actually pointed—and those eyes, brimming with that weathered feeling, were silver.
Although only a faint spiritual pressure emanated from him from head to toe, his bearing was anything but ordinary. One glance was enough for anyone to recognize that this was an extraordinary high-level immortal cultivator.
However, as for what his exact realm was, ordinary people would find it impossible to fathom. The moment their divine sense approached within three feet of him, it would be effortlessly bounced back.
For such an effect, it was not merely because his realm was high.
Either this youth carried some treasure on him, or the cultivation method he practiced was special.
Compared to this White-Haired Youth, however, the companion traveling with him seemed