The light of day was dim.
The bizarre sight of the galaxy hanging upside down came swiftly and vanished just as swiftly.
The rolling mountains of Jade Capital Tower no longer bore their former immortal splendor.
The sect-protecting formation that had once brimmed with spiritual energy was reduced to a few lingering streams of light, flickering uncertainly in the wind.
It had taken no more than a single breath.
Jade Capital Tower, once loftily exalted as one of the twenty-five lineages of Imperial Position Dao Orthodoxy, had been reduced to this state.
White Elephant drew his voluminous gray robe closer around himself.
His hood concealed his face as he stepped over the shattered white-jade stairs littering the ground and slowly made his way up the mountain.
On either side,
dozens of Jade Capital Tower disciples lay limp on the ground, their faces bloodless, while the elders knelt prostrate, trembling all over.
Merely a trace of the Dao Painting's aura had been revealed.
To this group of Tower-Climbing Realm cultivators, it was already like the might of Heaven.
Everyone seemed trapped in an absurd nightmare.
The disciples raised their heads blankly, their eyes vacant as they watched that slightly hunched figure climb the steps, one by one, walking ever farther away.
No one dared make a sound. No one dared stop him.
Until he passed the main hall on the principal peak and headed straight for the back mountain.
The deeper he went, the more desolate the surroundings became.
Weeds grew thick, and withered vines coiled everywhere.
At last, he stopped before a remote, dilapidated cliffside cave.
Outside the cave stood only a moss-covered stele without inscription. Within, it was dark and damp, water dripping down the stone walls with a monotonous sound.
Atop the stone platform in the center lay