After that lingering thunderous voice of the Great Dao came a middle-aged man—perhaps even older than middle-aged—yet not a single strand of white could be seen in his hair.
Even in the dim places, it was all dark gold.
As though that had always been the color his hair was meant to possess.
He wore a dark-gold parasol tree robe embroidered with moon-inviting patterns, and a phoenix crown upon his head. Other than that, there seemed to be nothing especially remarkable about him.
His appearance was unremarkable, his build was not particularly striking, and even his pair of dark-gold eyes, like those of an ancient wilderness god, did not blaze like the scorching sun. Instead, they held a faint tranquility.
Those dark-gold pupils, like the golden eyes of an ancient savage beast, sized up the visitor.
The Dao Lord of the Heavenly Sun Divine Sect frowned almost imperceptibly.
Black mist filled the heavens.
The Great Dao stood at the abyss.
For a moment, he could not discern the depths of the visitor.
This unfamiliar Lord of the Great Dao in black-and-red robes was like a profound azure firmament, while the mysterious Dao breath swirling around him was sharp as a divine blade born of chaos.
With every movement, Dao rhythm accompanied him.
The profound breaths of life and death intertwined into divine chains that stretched across heaven and earth, like layer upon layer of heavenly nets cast open.
For such a figure, never mind that he was an unfamiliar arrival—even if he were some great devilish path magnate, he would have to be treated with the utmost courtesy.
The Dao Lord cupped his hands and said, "Fellow Daoist, could it be that you have come to the wrong place? My Heavenly Sun Divine Sect does not seem to know you."