The tenth level of the Celestial Ladder.
This was a shattered space devoid of any trace of life.
Several devastating battles had taken place here. Though the laws of heaven and earth allowed space to heal itself, thousands of years had passed, yet the tenth level of the Celestial Ladder remained a broken expanse where no life could naturally take root.
The firmament was not a clear blue sky, but a terrifying heaven scattered with black holes of every size.
At every moment,
these rifts between heaven and earth devoured whatever energy they required from their surroundings.
Forget living creatures of flesh and blood—even rocks, grass, trees, Wind-Fire-Water-Earth, once swept inside, would all be ground into dust.
The ground was not fertile land where rolling hills, lofty mountains, and flowing rivers coexisted. Instead, countless "islands," divided by fragments of time and space, stretched before the eye, boundless and without visible end.
Upon every "island" separated by spatial rifts, there was nothing but wasteland upon wasteland.
On one enormous "island,"
silently,
stood a group of golden-armored guards, their bearing like mountains and their majesty without equal.
There were only several hundred of them, yet their strength was so great and their aura so fierce that they seemed capable of swallowing the whole world. Wherever their banner pointed, ten thousand men would be unable to stop them.
Yet what these immensely powerful golden-armored guards protected was a small, unremarkable tent. It seemed that this little, somewhat shabby tent was a special existence a hundred times more precious than their lives. Behind the golden-armored guards sat a group of wise elders clad in golden robes. Their hair was frosted white, their beards snowy, silver staffs and bright pearls in hand. They sat leisurely around the small tent, faintly displaying the manner of followers