Wielding the Brush

A cry of alarm rang out. Elder Tong Xuan discovered that no matter what he did, the Seven-Colored Heavenly Emperor Brush under his control could not cross that distance of three inches and stamp its mark upon the forehead of the most outstanding member of this generation of the Gu clan.

Half-Saint level Dou Qi erupted, only to be swiftly suppressed by the aura emanating from the Emperor Altar.

Elder Tong Xuan stared in shock. His arm hung limply at his side as he blankly gazed at the black phantom towering thousands of zhang high.

The phantom continued expanding—one thousand zhang, several thousand zhang, ten thousand zhang!

Calling ordinary people ants before it would have been flattering them.

Elder Tong Xuan felt a chill in his heart. He had only witnessed such might several decades ago, on the day the Clan Leader had unleashed his power.

No! It was even slightly stronger than the Clan Leader!

Could this be... the Ancient Emperor ancestor revealing himself?!

The Emperor Altar consumed its accumulations of several thousand years, supplying the colossal phantom with sufficient energy to maintain that demon-god-like figure in the world.

The storm-driven dark clouds all merged with the Ancient Emperor Phantom. Tremendous changes occurred every moment, and as though adapting to the energy fluctuations, the ten-thousand-zhang phantom shrank once more to a thousand zhang... then several hundred zhang...

The difference between ten thousand zhang and several hundred zhang could not be called small, but who among those present was ordinary?

Some Dou Zong magical beasts, upon revealing their true forms, were even larger than this mere several-hundred-zhang body. To high-level cultivators, the pressure brought by sheer height was not worth mentioning!

Yet merely a trace of an Emperor's aura left everyone present unable to breathe!

The Coming-of-Age Ceremony grounds were