Where would the Immortal Sect go in the future?
Would it become something like an ancient lineage, or become a universal civilization of the Endless Starry Sky?
Jiang Ding did not know.
The only thing he knew was that no matter which direction the Immortal Sect chose, he would support its interests. This was his homeland, and likewise the only existence that would shelter and support him regardless of whether he lived or died, whether he stood in glory or disgrace, whether he was strong or weak.
Such trust was precious beyond measure—one could say it was utterly without equal.
Great Yin Yang Sword Realm, Great Sun Sword Cultivator, Supreme Great Sun Sword Cultivator, Desolate Fire Sword Son, Wuji Sword Son, and the rest—these were all fiercely loyal subordinates and allies. Jiang Ding had no doubt that even if he led them onto a battlefield to face life and death, these sword cultivators would not betray him.
But if one day the Great Sun Sword Son lost his power, those sword cultivators would instantly become enemies—become dangers.
This was not immoral.
It was only natural.
That was the fate of sword cultivators, and the Great Sun Sword Son acknowledged this logic as well.
Yet the fate of sword cultivators was, in the end, merely the fate of sword cultivators. The value of an existence that would never abandon one another, no matter what, was beyond estimation. In the end, it made one cling to it with boundless longing.
The countless thoughts in Jiang Ding's heart gradually settled into calm.
He raised his head and looked beyond the palace.
There, an enchanting and adorable woman was walking toward him. Ten thousand years had passed since they last met, yet she remained radiant and dazzling, playful and sweet. Time had not left