After bidding Lin Feng farewell, Shiheng felt the breeze brush his face, yet it could not dispel the faint melancholy in his heart.
Fifty long years had passed.
The Yulan Continent, once ravaged by war and calamities wrought by gods, now enjoyed complete peace and unprecedented prosperity.
The fugitive God-level beings who had escaped Gorba Prison and scattered across the Material Plane had all been hunted down and slain by Shiheng or expelled, with not a single one remaining.
This world faced no more threats from beyond its borders. The Human Race's fortune surged across ten thousand miles, and its people lived and worked in peace, presenting a scene of enduring tranquility.
Yet the stability of this flourishing age also meant that his years in the mortal world had finally come to an end.
His old friends had gone their separate ways. Tarrossa and the others had departed for the Hell Plane, while Lin Feng remained in his homeland, quietly waiting for the younger generation to grow.
Across the vast Yulan Continent, no one remained who could stand beside him and discuss the Dao. This Material Plane had long since become too small to contain his supreme fighting strength.
Suppressing that lingering attachment to the mortal world, Shiheng moved, crossing a thousand miles of mountains and rivers through the air before descending toward the majestic Kelan Imperial City.
In the Imperial Capital of the Human Emperor Celestial Dynasty, fortune coiled through the heavens like a dragon.
Deep within the palace, Spiritual Energy shrouded the imperial garden, where the resonance of the Dao lingered.
Two figures dear to him stood quietly within: his wife and son, Kelin Xiaoman and Shi Hao.
Over fifty years of consolidation, both had undergone tremendous transformations. Neither their bearing nor their cultivation could be compared to