That year, in the Shadow Immortal Realm.
The sky split.
Within the rift, endless phantoms of mountains and rivers slowly hung down over the skies of the Eternal Immortal Frontier, magnificent and vast, stretching without end.
That day, the mighty beings from every corner of Eternal Antiquity returned to their ancestral lands.
The Myriad Mountains.
Range upon majestic range spanned endless space, rolling forth from the farthest reaches of the void. Mountains met the heavens, their peaks overlapping in layers. From afar, they resembled the very skeleton of the world, unfurled to its utmost extent.
The mountains stood lofty, their ridgelines vast and boundless.
Every mountain seemed to bear the weight of an era. Their slopes stretched out with sweeping grandeur, neither forbiddingly steep nor dark and stagnant, but possessed of a mighty momentum that followed the Great Dao and arose naturally.
Between the mountains, seas of clouds surged.
Clouds of immortal shadows rolled and flowed among the peaks, light and shadow shifting as though the world itself were slowly breathing. Occasionally, ancient immortal birds swept through the clouds; with a beat of their wings, the cloud sea split for ten thousand miles, only to close again in an instant.
The Myriad Mountains had stood quietly for hundreds of millions of years, yet had never declined because the Heavenly Wheel Sect resided there.
But that day.
The ranges of the Myriad Mountains, once spread in layer upon layer across endless distances, all grew solid at that instant. It was as though an invisible force had drawn the world inward, and the peaks once visible yet unreachable suddenly pressed close before their eyes.
Clouds of immortal shadows spanning hundreds of millions of miles poured down from the high heavens, pressing upon the mountains in layer after layer. The cloud waves churned,