Xu Changqing's pupils contracted.
The instant that title left Zhang Daoxuan's lips, he felt as though something had seized his heart in a vicious grip.
This young man before him was his future master?
Or rather, was it because of him that the other man became the Great Dao Venerable?
"What?"
Zhang Daoxuan smiled, utterly unaware of the weight those words carried.
He merely felt that people ought to have dreams.
In this age, gods, devils, and demons were spread throughout All Heavens and Myriad Realms.
The Gods and Devils were especially lofty, always standing high above all else.
Humans were weak; to survive, they could only worship the gods.
For instance, when mortals prayed for rain, the Rain God need only raise a hand to bring down a sweet shower.
Such tangible protection, something real that could be seen and touched, was far more substantial than the illusory "Great Dao."
Who would leave a responsive god unworshipped to cultivate immortality so distant it could never be reached?
Thus, most cultivators in this era were also followers of some god.
Yet gods had never cared about humanity. They cared only for faith.
If there was not enough faith, then humans were deemed disrespectful and had to suffer divine punishment.
Deaths and sacrifices were all too common.
As for devils, they regarded humans even less as people—as nothing more than "food."
Whenever they were hungry, they would come out and hunt.
With no other choice, humans could only revere the gods even more.
Therefore, cultivators here were not merely a minority; they were oddities among oddities.
Xu Changqing came back to his senses and said gravely, "I just think we've only just begun cultivating immortality. Aren't we thinking too far ahead?"
But Zhang Daoxuan did not see it that way. "People