Fang Mo's training ground.
A crowd had gathered before his closed-door cultivation hall.
Xiao Jingsheng, Yue Wangchuan, Du Chuan, and the others were all present—more than twenty True Persons, along with a host of stewards, gathered in full force.
Luo Jiangyan, Guan Lu, Yue Quan, Chi Yu, Nangong Aoyun, and the others were there as well, though they stood off to the side. Before all those True Persons, they could hardly squeeze their way to the front. Their gazes were all fixed upon the great doors.
Two rows of Black Armor guards stood on either side of the hall, their eyes cold as blades and dense Killing Intent radiating from their bodies. No one was permitted to approach the hall.
Creak—
After waiting for half an hour, the doors of the cultivation hall finally opened slowly. Light streamed out from within, and a figure stepped from the hall.
He wore a black brocade sword robe, a black cape traced in gold, and a golden dragon crown binding his hair. His face was like polished jade, his eyes like bright stars. As he stood there, he carried an indescribable bearing—ethereal as an immortal, yet steady as a mountain. He seemed close enough to touch, yet also as though separated by layer upon layer of space.
The True Persons were shaken to their core, their hearts surging. They understood that the man before them had reached an exceedingly terrifying realm of strength.
He seemed even stronger!
Xiao Jingsheng's heart trembled. Previously, Fang Mo had merely been formidable—his fleshly body tyrannical, his blood and qi like a dragon, violent and powerful.
But now, his aura was contained, his presence hidden. It showed that his realm had stabilized and that he could control it as freely as extending or withdrawing his hand.
In barely