All the Past Lives Knew

World Relief Valley.

They saw countless islands of varying sizes floating in the sky, each growing different kinds of spiritual herbs.

The grand formation covering the entire World Relief Valley cast beams of mysterious light, adjusting each island's environment to the conditions most suitable for growing spiritual medicines.

Between the islands, faint flames could be seen rising, while wisps of pill clouds drifted away. Some alchemists were refining the void's pure, clear energy to nourish their pill furnaces.

Below the islands, mountain ranges rose high. One towering spiritual mountain after another lay hidden in misty clouds, with rushing waterfalls and faint glimmers of auspicious light.

Dense spiritual energy gathered into mist and became spiritual springs, winding down the slopes and flowing into a spiritual river that ran toward the distance.

At the foot of the mountains lay neat plots of spiritual fields, stretching so far they seemed endless.

At that moment, two figures were walking along the ridges between two of the fields, watching the automated magical implements move back and forth, spraying spiritual liquid over the crops.

One wore a coarse gray robe. His frame was stooped, his hair white as snow, and even his eyes had grown somewhat cloudy.

He looked like nothing more than an ordinary old man.

Min.

The other wore a blue ceremonial robe. He had a white beard and white hair, and an air of transcendent grace.

He was none other than the Pill Ancestor.

Their attire differed from that of the World Relief Valley disciples around them, who wore special spirit-insulating robes, but no one gave the two men on the field ridge so much as a second glance.

It was as if they didn't exist.

"Though I've been hoping all these years that this day would come soon, now that the fighting's