Not long after White Mirage departed, the empty grand hall held nothing but dead silence and void.
In the blink of an eye, the space before the lotus dais suddenly rippled in layer upon layer of waves.
This sudden, violent fluctuation was like surging tides, rolling outward through every corner of the hall.
The hazy, intangible space began to twist madly beneath the force of this immense power, folding over itself in layers as though an invisible hand were kneading it at will.
Then, a lean and tall figure stepped unhurriedly out from that torn rift in space.
The newcomer appeared to be an old man of seventy or eighty, his face densely lined with countless fine wrinkles.
Yet this did nothing to diminish his sturdy frame and vigorous, spirited bearing.
His eyes seemed to hold glittering stars, flashes of brilliant white light occasionally gleaming within them, radiating a sharpness and profundity that could not be underestimated.
At the same time, the old man wore a simple, unadorned robe. Its white hems swayed faintly with his movements.
His long silver-white hair fell freely like white moonlight pouring down from the night sky.
A patch of mottled, frost-white stubble rested upon his chin, likewise reflecting a silvery sheen. Within the brightly lit hall, it added several touches of mystery and age-worn gravity.
White Flame!
This transcendent-looking old man was precisely the person White Mirage feared—the Pure World White Lotus Sect's foremost Supreme Elder, a half-step Void Glimpse True Lord.
After White Flame appeared, he turned toward the lotus dais, his expression filled with piety and respect. Then he slowly spoke.
"Saintess, it seems the seal placed upon this land is about to disappear."
"It has been nearly two thousand years."
"When the Spirit Ruins Land opens again in half a year,