Western Extremity.
A gaunt figure walked step by step through the sky-filling sandstorm.
He seemed completely decayed, without the slightest trace of color in his blood.
Every step he took left a mark upon the world, as though the Great Dao had solidified. The place where he stood had completely peeled away from the mortal world, utterly incompatible with its dust and bustle.
No one knew what he was pursuing as he continued onward.
The traveler seemed entirely unnoticed, as though even heaven and earth could not perceive him.
Silently, he entered the yellow sands.
The sandstorm ended. Mist arrived, and ice sealed the land for thousands upon thousands of feet.
A massive piece of pure mystic ice, as large as a heart, stretched out its tendrils.
Faint light flickered. The figure seated cross-legged within the mystic ice had vanished, leaving only an empty shell behind.
Yet even this empty shell seemed like an imprint carved by the Great Dao, vivid and lifelike, as though its former terror still lingered within.
The aura of the ice mountain boiled up to the Heavenly Pool.
The angler at the Heavenly Pool finally rose.
A sigh came from the Nethersoil.
The demons of the Demon Abyss seemed to be waiting for some slumbering Demon King to emerge into the world.
Woo.
A lingering, profound funeral melody began to play. Like immortal peaks, clusters of grand halls encircled a vast pure land.
Celestial maidens danced through the air, while divine generals stood watch.
Beside the Jade Pool, a young man in broad-sleeved robes held a jade slip and sneered. "Has Cui Jianlu lost his mind? An obscure cultivator, yet he calls him a great enemy."
He casually tossed the jade slip back onto a desk not far from the pool.
"What does