"Ancestor!"
Countless Source Race clansmen looked at Yan ahead of them and all cupped their hands in salute.
Although they did not know what had happened either. The final image in their minds had clearly been a heaven-spanning palm descending into the Source Race's territory.
At that moment, they had felt no pain at all, because from divine soul to physical body, they had been destroyed in an instant. Before pain could even rise, they had already died and their Dao had dissipated.
Only their hearts had been filled with unwillingness. Unwilling that the Source Race would be destroyed just like this. Clearly, the Source Race had peerless talent. Clearly, the Source Race could have become a Supreme Race of the Ruin Realm.
But all of it had turned to flying ash beneath that palm.
Yet now, they discovered they had come back to life. Their Ancestor was right ahead, and a strange young cultivator stood in the distance, smiling as he watched them.
Hearing the cries of the Source Race clansmen, a smile could not help but rise on Yan's face. That cry of "Ancestor"—Yan had thought he would never hear it again. Even if he could be revived on the Path to Immortality, he would never hear it again.
But now, here, the Source Race had returned.
"Thank you!"
Yan wiped the tears from his face, turned to look at Chen Fei, and bowed deeply. This bow was not for himself, but for his race.
"Without Your Excellency's gift back then, I could not have smoothly reached where I am today." Chen Fei cupped his hands in return.
"Back then, I simply did not want the Source Race's traces to vanish from the Ruin Realm," Yan said with a faint movement of his lips, giving a low, bitter