Zhao Hao's clone, Zhao Hai, could clearly sense every inch of flesh in his Sea King Race body at the Mahayana Late Stage rejoicing after its immersion in the Ascension Pool. It even seemed to resonate in a wondrous way with the laws of this world.
Beside the pool, an elderly man with the bearing of an immortal, dressed in a Daoist robe patterned with the eight trigrams, watched him with a smile.
The old man spoke gently, with the composure of someone long accustomed to authority. "I am Liao Qian of the Stone Altar Hall in the Northern Cold Immortal Domain. By order of the Immortal Court's Northern Cold Immortal Palace, I am stationed at this Ascension Platform."
Zhao Hai's expression remained unchanged, but inwardly, he understood.
The aura of the old man's flesh was exactly like that of the immortal body his original self had formed after refining Immortal Qi. This was a pure immortal body.
This had to be the Immortal Realm.
Zhao Hai lingered no longer. With a slight movement, he drifted noiselessly out of the Ascension Pool like a wisp of smoke. His toes lightly touched the white jade floor, and he landed steadily thirty feet in front of Liao Qian.
The entire movement flowed like clouds and running water, without the slightest weakness or dishevelment from enduring a tribulation.
He cupped his fists in a salute between equals and spoke calmly. "I am Zhao Hai, a rogue cultivator. Greetings, Fellow Daoist Liao."
A barely perceptible flicker of surprise crossed Liao Qian's eyes, followed by an inward nod of approval.
He had welcomed ascenders for ten thousand years and witnessed all manner of miserable conditions. Those with depleted vital origins or half-ruined bodies were everywhere. Someone like this, whose aura was perfectly harmonious and who