In the tales of the mortal world, there were naturally no immortals in this world. Even the imperial court did not know whether there were living immortals hidden away in those deep mountains and ancient forests.
Since no one knew, then naturally, there were none.
But in truth, there were.
Unlike the former emperors of the Upper Realm, who could not communicate with their descendants in later generations, Daoists—those powerful immortals—could pass a few scattered words down to the mortal world.
Under such circumstances, Daoists naturally knew that cultivation in the Upper Realm was arduous, while the mortal world was the shortcut to cultivation.
If one could attain Golden Immortalhood in the mortal world, one would save countless years of bitter cultivation in an instant.
But regrettably, over these past tens of thousands of years, only one Yellow Heaven Daoist had emerged.
The crucial point was that Yellow Heaven Daoist had been unwilling to abandon his foundation and ascend. Instead, he had wished to die for the Dao.
If the Dao could not be fulfilled, better to die.
Perhaps it was precisely because of this that Yellow Heaven Daoist had attained Golden Immortalhood. They cherished their lives, and thus lacked such karmic fruition.
Even so, no cultivator who learned the secrets of the Upper Realm would ever choose to ascend to the Void Realm before their lifespan ran out.
Cultivating in the mortal world, even a single day could rival a year in the Void.
Under such circumstances, even Daoists who had already attained immortal fruition naturally had no wish to ascend. Instead, they would rack their brains to prolong their own lives.
Within the pavilion stood more than ten Human Immortals, each in a different guise. Some appeared as youths, like elegant young gentlemen; some as middle-aged men, tall