After nursing his wounds for several days.
Lian Qingyue finally woke up.
It was too noisy. He had not woken on his own, but had been roused by the commotion.
Daylight washed over him.
Still dazed, he rose to his feet and looked outside. An earth-shattering, vast spectacle entered his eyes.
Countless Lu Academy disciples flew through the mountains in every direction. Dao platforms and pavilions filled his vision. In the distance, even giant stars hung in the sky, pouring endless starlight upon immortal mountains. Pill Dao competitions and artifact Dao competitions were underway.
He was awake now.
He swept his gaze disdainfully across the Mountains, Rivers, and Eight Desolations. Just this...
"Lian Qingyue!"
"Hmm?"
"Enter the Spirit Realm and take part in the turmoil of the Ten Thousand Clans. Leave now. Immediately."
"...Hmm?"
"Move!"
Heaven and earth blurred as chaos flowed backward.
The world was a scene of slaughter. Other than the hazy crimson of blood, nothing else remained.
Rumble...!
Lian Qingyue's eyes snapped wide open. The Five Elements Spirit Root beneath his feet flashed, and in an instant, he dodged the meteor falling from the heavens. Had he been one step slower, he would have suffered death and Dao dissipation.
"Have you all gone mad?!"
Yet no one answered. He did not even have a storage ring on him. The only thing that ever answered him was his own ability to survive.
Lian Qingyue's gaze flickered as he analyzed the situation around him. It seemed he would have to cultivate here for a while.
A hundred years later.
On this desolate land, the Qingyue Clan abruptly rose to prominence with the force of a thunderbolt. They spared no effort in enslaving the surrounding races and plundering every Heavenly Material and Earthly Treasure. Their methods were extraordinarily seasoned