Time flows like water, slowly passing by.
People and events in the world operate according to their inherent laws, unaffected by the lack of one person.
People are born, age, become ill, and die; they fight and kill, ascend through cultivation, and enlist in foreign lands... Everything proceeds as usual, generation after generation living on the mother star of Xianmen Sect.
In the blink of an eye, decades have passed.
Sigh...
Sigh...
The gentle snoring in the Great Sun sleeping space continues, generating countless tides of light.
At one moment,
Many lights converge towards the center of the sky, gathering continuously, growing brighter and more brilliant, until finally forming a solid entity.
A flying sword.
Three feet in size, with a bluegold hue, it emits terrifying auras of law-breaking, destruction, forbidden laws, and mutants.
