Submission

The divine statue had its eyes closed, its face majestic, and the rule fluctuations radiating from it made Zhao Ji, a Nascent Soul Realm cultivator, feel a shudder and submission rising from the depths of his soul.

Golden light pierced the gloom, illuminating the entire city until it was bright as day.

When this vast team, each member harboring their own thoughts, crossed the wind and snow that filled the sky and finally saw the solitary city on the horizon completely enveloped in resplendent golden light, the breathing of every Extreme Sect cultivator stopped at that instant.

Not the slightest sound remained in the crowd.

Everyone had their heads raised, staring blankly at the city at the end of the horizon, utterly shrouded in golden light.

Zhao Ji stood at the very front of the team, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

He stared fixedly at the hundred-zhang-tall golden divine statue above Jade Dragon City. His neck ached from craning too far upward, yet he did not dare lower his head at all.

That divine statue had its eyes closed, its hands hanging naturally at its sides, without any superfluous movement.

But the fluctuations radiating from the divine statue pierced straight through the distance of thirty li and pressed heavily onto Zhao Ji's chest.

The Nascent Soul inside Zhao Ji's body trembled violently, and the Spiritual Power that had once circulated smoothly came to a complete standstill in that moment.

He felt that what he faced was not some formation-made object at all, but a kind of pure rule that stood entirely above the Heavenly Dao.

"Old Zhao..."

The Extreme Aperture Sect Master sidled up to Zhao Ji, his voice drifting unsteadily as he spoke, his teeth chattering against each other.

"What realm is this, exactly? Mid-stage Spirit Transformation? Or late-stage Spirit