The five had barely stepped out of the flaming vortex when the mountain wind, carrying the scent of grass and trees, rushed toward them. It formed a stark, almost otherworldly contrast with the dry, scorching sulfur stench of the secret realm.
Xiao Cheng was still considering the matter of the final tribulation when a golden-red streak of light suddenly lit up the horizon.
The streak was incredibly fast. One moment it was still in the distant sky; the next, it had swept over the hills and descended before them with a warm yet fierce aura. The gust it brought sent fallen leaves swirling across the ground. As the dust dispersed, Leng Zhaoran came into view.
He still carried himself with the same stern composure, his clothes immaculate and not even a strand of hair out of place. Yet his gaze immediately swept toward Leng Yaozhu and Leng Yulai, examining them from head to toe three times. Then, an expression of extreme, rare blankness appeared on the Spirit Pagoda vice tower master's face.
"Dad?" Leng Yaozhu called.
Leng Zhaoran did not respond. He merely stared at his two daughters. The longer he looked, the brighter his eyes became, and the wider his smile stretched. With the perception of a Demigod Realm expert, he could naturally sense exactly what had changed.
A dignified Limit Douluo and vice tower master of the Spirit Pagoda was now striding forward with vigorous steps. His gaze swept swiftly over all five of them. Only after confirming that his two daughters were standing before him safe and sound did the tension he had carried for two months finally ease, revealing an unconcealable smile.
"You're back? Good, good. It's good that you're back."
Though his voice still carried the steady gravity of an elder, his footsteps had already