Kunlun Ancient Realm, Ninety-Nine Heads Divine Mountain.
A long serpent with a rotting body lay inside an enormous cavern at the summit of the divine mountain. The cavern itself was larger than a star.
The terrifying serpent stretched for untold tens of thousands of kilometers. His body was slowly decaying, rotten flesh hanging from white bones as thick poisonous fumes billowed everywhere.
The two wings on the venomous serpent's body had been reduced entirely to bare bones and drooped against the ground.
The serpent bore a staggering ninety-nine heads, but ninety-seven had already become pale, skeletal remains.
The flesh on one head was peeling away at a speed visible to the naked eye, as though an invisible force were tearing it off bit by bit. That head no longer held any life.
Only one head remained intact, but it was hideously shriveled, like dried smoked meat.
Even so, layers upon layers of ancestral might surrounded the colossal serpent, his ferocious presence overwhelming.
Before this Saint Ancestor floated a dense multitude of Winged Flying Serpent sages. This clan of ancient great menaces had concealed its brilliance and bided its time in the Kunlun Ancient Realm for nearly a million years.
Between the Saint Ancestor and the sages, an image of Fang Yun condensed from sacred sense slowly rotated in place.
"It really is him..."
The last head of Saint Ancestor Ninety-Nine Heads slowly raised its feeble eyelids, revealing enormous gray eyes filled with the aura of death.
A complicated mixture of emotions surfaced in his enormous eyes: anger, helplessness, sorrow, bewilderment, regret, and fear.
Saint Ancestor Ninety-Nine Heads' body trembled slightly, and great masses of rotten flesh tumbled down. To the sages, it was like a mountainside collapsing, crashing thunderously to the ground.
"Ancestor, are you truly certain it is him?