The Heavenly Beast Garden.
In the spirit vein beneath the Heavenly River, amid countless silver bells, four human Supremes—the Heavenly Beast Supreme, the Seven-Kill Supreme, the Pill Heaven Supreme, and the Thunder Sun Supreme—sat facing one another in cultivation.
They never strayed half a step apart. Constantly on guard, they were bound by tightly linked formations: tug one strand, and the whole web would stir. They were as close as fellow disciples of the same master.
They had remained this way for many years.
The Supreme of the Duer Exorcist Temple was gone. He had died on the battlefield years ago and, like all the cultivators of his sect, had become a puppet treasure meticulously tended by the Heavenly Illusion Immortal Butterfly Clan. The surviving Supremes were like birds startled by the mere twang of a bow, with no appetite left for infighting.
New and ancient Immortal Orders, righteous and demonic paths—all such distinctions had vanished.
Heaven knew what they had endured over the years. Each looked impossibly old, with graying hair and withered skin. Their lifespans were nearing their end.
That was only natural.
By the time the Daoist heirs appeared, the Supremes had already entered their twilight years. Another two hundred thousand years had passed, and fighting on the battlefield was perilous and drained their vitality. It was remarkable that they had lasted this long.
The next generation of sect Daoist heirs had been trained, but whether they could sustain their sects once they became Supremes remained unknown.
Were the sects going to perish...?
Many Supremes worried, but none spoke.
The Heavenly Beast Supreme, who looked like an old farmer, silently watched the next generation of Daoist heirs cultivating nearby. His gaze grew distant.
All four Daoist heirs stood at the peak of the Celestial realm, the limit