"Heavenly Grade 8th Heaven at last!" Wang Xuan had finally reached this level. His spirit and flesh were continuously washed by layer after layer of light; both body and soul became translucent and clear, Imperial Dao Texture covering his surface.
He was now ethereal and detached, like a deity awakening or a True Saint reborn. Every gesture carried a natural Dao charm—restrained, yet powerful.
The light on his body was faint and not dazzling, yet it pierced through the mist, casting the entire Misty Realm in a soft, hazy, incomparably sacred glow.
Wang Xuan stared ahead. Lightning-like gazes intertwined with textures, seeming to transcend this era and cross all of time and space. He wanted to see the region at the end clearly.
The light source at the very forefront of the mist was where he most wanted to set foot.
He had worked toward it countless times, but every attempt had failed. He could never approach it. He could gaze towards it, but could not shorten the distance.
Wang Xuan had once suspected that it was merely a vision in his heart rather than a real place. Otherwise, why was the distance always fixed, impossible to cross?
No matter how much his cultivation increased, he could not pass through, as though a mist-shrouded Great World lay between them!
If the end was illusory, then why was the entire space so real? By comparison, the outside Real World instead seemed decayed, veiled in a layer of dust.
Overall, the depths of the Misty Realm, detached from the present world, seemed more like—the true land!
Because standing here and looking upon the present world always brought a faint sorrow, as if fate and its ending had already been predetermined. Looking outward, dust blanketed everything: the fissured, decaying world and the barren