The Asura battle art manifested.
A blood lotus of the great age bloomed across the heavens.
To see the lord was to see the Dao.
The old man, Dongxuan, gradually regained the light in his starlit eyes, and his seated body slowly unfolded.
The blood-colored lotus behind him drew together, like a Buddha's hand from a blazing abyss closing around everything. When the lotus vanished completely, the wind ceased, the rain stopped, and the sky cleared.
"It's the Patriarch!"
The saints cried out, unable to hide their excitement.
No matter which side they had once belonged to, nothing had yet been settled.
When the Patriarch appeared, the Dao revealed itself to the world.
Every Asura clansman knelt and prostrated themselves.
They shouted the Patriarch's name, worshipping the lord of the great Dao.
"It really is the Patriarch." After his shock, Luo Manping felt the same joy.
What kind of powerhouse was a Dao Lord?
One such figure was enough to keep an entire clan peaceful for thirty thousand years.
It was only because the Patriarch had vanished that turmoil arose within the clan.
Had the Patriarch never disappeared, perhaps the Asura clan would still be at the height of its prosperity.
No one was more delighted than Luo Tianfeng.
He had thought everything was settled, that his fate had run its course. Yet once the great formation opened, his master had returned.
With his master's cultivation and attainments, there was no need to hand over the divine medicine.
His own mana was already nearly exhausted. Even if Tu Shan Jun could suppress him and forcibly seize his mana, he could never be his master's match.
How could Luo Tianfeng not be wild with joy?
An unknown Dao Lord—his aura and spiritual presence seemed weak, but in truth, he was even