Darkness has never been far away.
It is merely waiting, waiting for a suitable moment, to drag everything into eternal downfall!
Time flows silently amidst this undercurrent.
For mortals, it might be years, decades.
For a cultivator, it might be a brief seclusion.
The Kao Mountain Sect struggles to rebuild.
Xu Qinghan battles and searches bitterly within the Sword Tomb.
Yu Kong constantly battles and grows stronger at the edge of the Celestial Fall Battlefield.
And in the depths of the earth vein, in the center of the Lake of Deathly Silence.
The silhouette of Xu Ran stands still.
Like a reef existing through the ages.
Letting the outside world stir with storms and clouds.
He remains immovable, only the almost invisible gray mark on his forehead.
Occasionally flickers.
As if heralding some kind of accumulation and sedimentation of power, the wind has stopped.
But the story continues to spread in a grander and eerier way.
