That year.
From the depths of the universe, a figure forgotten by time slowly approached.
It was a man of the Human Race.
Yet he no longer resembled a "man."
His features remained refined and handsome, his contours gentle, yet beneath that gentleness seemed to lie the rise and fall and changing tides of the entire ancient universe—a stillness that could only settle after countless eras.
Between his brows, there was now an exceedingly faint mark.
That mark resembled neither an innate law rune nor a Dao Mark. Instead, it was like a Great Dao river compressed to its absolute limit.
The mark flickered in and out of sight, as though endless starlight flowed slowly within it. Looking closely, one could vaguely see phantoms of the birth and destruction of the Myriad Realms, the succession of eras, as if his brow bore the very scar left by time.
Rumble—
From the depths of the Void, Dao phantoms long erased by history manifested one after another, as though paying homage—or confirming this Path of Return that spanned two hundred billion years.
The disorderly aura of Tiandi began, faintly, to rearrange itself at that moment.
It was as though even the Great Dao was slowly returning to its proper place.
But what truly made hearts tremble was his pupils.
They were no longer ordinary black eyes, but profound to the point of near-Void, as though they swallowed even light into themselves.
At times, a faint divine radiance flowed through them, vaguely revealing the intertwining of Karma. It was as though any existence need only be seen by him once for its past and future to be entirely decided.
Yet what was even more miraculous was his neck.
An exceedingly ancient circular mark had appeared there.
The mark was like pale gold, yet