Everyone inside the grand hall remained entirely unaware of this, still surrounding Hua Qiang and showering him with flattery.
Hua Qiang wore a gentle smile, returning their greetings one by one, though in his heart he was contemplating the past of his ninety-nine reincarnations and the impending bottleneck of the Creation Realm.
He could sense the faint, lingering hostility emanating from Yang Chongsheng, yet he did not take it to heart, simply assuming the Palace Master harbored some wariness toward him as a suddenly appeared Holy Son, and that they would slowly smooth things out in the future.
At that exact moment, a sudden change occurred!
An invisible oppressive force abruptly shrouded the grand hall, the spiritual mist churning violently while the dragon patterns on the coiling dragon pillars emitted a low dragon roar, as though cowering in reverence before some supreme existence.
The crowd only felt a blur before their eyes, and a figure had already quietly materialized within the hall, standing right at its center.
That was an old man dressed in a plain, coarse linen robe; his attire was simple yet immaculate, and not the slightest ripple of spiritual energy emanated from his entire body, making him look merely like an ordinary mortal elder.
Yet the moment he stood there, time within the entire grand hall seemed on the verge of freezing, and Yang Chongsheng's Palace Master majesty alongside Hua Qiang's Eternal Realm pressure appeared as insignificant as dust before him.
Yang Chongsheng's pupils constricted violently, his complexion turning instantly ashen as he scrambled up from his jade throne with a clumsy panic, rushing forward in a scramble before dropping heavily onto his knees with a thud, his voice carrying an unsuppressed tremble: "Yang Chongsheng pays respects to the Old Ancestor!"
He had recognized the aura of