Ai Wen?
An alchemy elder from the Emerald Forest?
Some who had defected from the Elf Race murmured among themselves. They had clearly heard of the old man. Among the elves, he seemed to be a respected Pill Dao master, though not one of the very best.
Immortal Emperor Yun Yi looked toward the Void. After receiving a message from Fang Chen's divine sense, he nodded. "Daoist Friend Ai Wen, please."
Under everyone's gaze, Ai Wen walked onto the platform at an unhurried pace.
Unlike those before him, he did not rush to use a Secret Art. Instead, he slowly circled the Cold Jade Table three times, studying the Scroll closely. He leaned in, then drew back, his nostrils twitching faintly as though he were smelling something.
His behavior puzzled many onlookers.
Could he really sniff out a clue?
Ai Wen observed it for about the time it took to drink a cup of tea. Then he stopped directly before the Scroll, closed his eyes, and raised his hands, palms facing each other as he held them just outside the Restriction's light barrier on either side.
He used no Spiritual Power and released no divine sense. Instead, he began chanting in an exceedingly Ancient language with awkward syllables. It seemed to be neither the Elven Language nor the language of any known race today.
His chant was soft, yet it carried a strange rhythm that seemed to soothe the restlessness in people's hearts.
As he chanted, an extremely faint, pale-green glow spread from his palms. It was almost invisible to the naked eye, and within it, countless minute phantoms of plants seemed to spring into being and fade away.
"Is that the Ancient Elven Sacrificial Prayer? Or the opening verse of some lost Pill Art?"
Someone knowledgeable in the crowd