His heart reeled with shock. Fate had toyed with him: he had never reached the Frontier, but had instead been abducted to an island. He had no idea how many tens of thousands of miles they had flown, and with this boundless ocean all around him, Mu Bai had no idea what to do. He could only stay.
Fortunately, the old Daoist had not deceived him. He really was training Mu Bai as the disciple who would inherit his mantle. Having witnessed the old Daoist's abilities, Mu Bai was determined to learn them, too. Once he had mastered them, he would rescue his wife.
Only while studying the arts on this island did Mu Bai realize how much he had been a frog at the bottom of a well. He learned how vast and boundless this world was, and that beyond the mortal dynasties, there were cultivators and the Beast Race. They were the true rulers of this world.
What Mu Bai practiced under the old Daoist, however, were Immortal Arts. The old Daoist's legacy was a book called the Flying Immortal Scripture. Mu Bai was not the only disciple to whom he had passed on this scripture. He also had a senior fellow disciple named Qin Kang, who had left many years ago.
In this blessed land of immortals, time drifted freely. In the blink of an eye, Mu Bai had cultivated on the island for fifty years. Fifty years later, the old Daoist passed away in seated meditation, and Mu Bai had attained enlightenment in the Dao. Yet the obsession in his heart had not faded in the slightest.
A huge hand reached into the Dao Sea and emerged clutching a long dragon that struggled desperately.
"Not enough..."
He thrust the huge hand into the Dao Sea again.