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Two streaks of light shot out of the atmosphere, one chasing the other through the vast expanse of space. The flaming beam behind soon reached its limit, while the white light in front kept accelerating.
Helplessly watching the distance between them grow rapidly, Wang Sheng gritted his teeth and forcefully pushed his Soaring Red Feathers. Within the flames, the three-legged Golden Crow folded its wings tight and shot forward like an arrow. Its speed climbed once more.
Back at the palace of the Pure Yang Sword Faction, everyone stood and stared at the cracked statue in stunned silence. The ancient words still echoed faintly in their minds.
The first to recover was Xi Lian, who already understood the archaic tongue. Pressing her lips together, she sighed softly and fixed her gaze on the statue. Her thoughts wandered.
Qing Yanzi slowly sat back into his seat, supporting himself with one hand. Faint sadness could be seen in his eyes due to their forefather's message.
"I am but a man who failed to reach the end of the immortal path. What need do I have for incense and offerings? As the inheritors of my immortal teachings, you must all remember not to ask of the...
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