Xuan Huaihan was seven hundred and twenty-nine years old.
As a cultivator of the Guiyi Realm, he had thought himself no stranger to storms and tempests.
Life or death—he had long since learned to take either in stride.
Yet just moments ago, Xuan Huaihan had acted nothing like it.
The instant he met the pure white crack in the sky with his gaze and "became one" with it,
his instinctive fear of death had laid bare the truth.
Xuan Huaihan floated in midair, gasping for breath.
The shadow of death still hung over him.
He looked up at the Young Cultivator standing high in the sky, dressed in a Plain White Daoist Robe, and could no longer muster the slightest thought of resisting.
"I agree."
Xuan Huaihan spoke:
"I relinquish my position as Sect Master of the Miaochuan Sect and appoint Ni Hai as its next Sect Master. From this day forward, I, Xuan Huaihan, will no longer interfere in any sect affairs."
After hearing Xuan Huaihan's oath, Chen Yan began to change the Dharma Seal formed by his left hand.
The enormous chasm that had split open across the ground slowly began to close.
The countless bones reaching out from within it also receded like a tide. In the end, it looked as though nothing had happened.
Then Chen Yan lifted the restraints on Xuan Huaihan.
The Guiyi Realm cultivator's meridians, Qi Sea, and Martial Spring began to stir back to life.
Xuan Huaihan descended to the ground.
Just then, great fires sprang up across the mountains of the Miaochuan Sect in the distance.
The flames lit up half the sky. Though Xuan Huaihan was dozens of miles from Frost Condensation Mountain, he could still clearly see the thick smoke billowing from its peak.
The Miaochuan Sect was the