"Boom—"
High above the east-facing city wall of the majestic, vast ancient city, brilliant divine runes lit up, followed by a Daoist-robed figure who was blasted flying by the power emanating from the wall.
The Daoist's features looked rather aged, bearing the appearance of a middle-aged man at a glance. In this world of cultivation with methods for eternal youth, such an appearance was relatively rare.
His hair was not bound by a Daoist crown, but rather left to hang loose; his hair stood straight up, and his sharp eyes gave people a feeling of involuntary awe. Most impressive were the two tufts of mustache on his lips that hung down to his chest, making him look just like the whiskers of a carp.
Donned further in a black and white Dharma robe, he gave people the uncanny impression that he was not a Daoist priest, but rather a member of a heterodox faction.
"Damn it!"
"After countless ages of vicissitudes and change, the power of this ancient city's defensive grand array is still this terrifying." Shock appeared on the Daoist's face.
After being blasted flying by the city wall, the Daoist slammed straight toward the barracks.
Barracks were established not far from the inner city wall, serving as a place specifically for the soldiers patrolling and guarding the city to rest.
Seeing that his face was about to crash into the barracks, he hurriedly gathered his breath to control his body, as he had no wish to smash into the barracks wall.
Before probing the city wall, the Daoist had inspected the sturdiness of the buildings in the city, knowing that the barracks also possessed protective formations.
Yet when he mobilized the Dharmic power within his body, he was startled to find that his Dharmic power was completely out