The White Moth vanished without a trace, the thunderstorm still lashing over Man City and the sea.
Legend has it that the White Phoenix swept across the world so swiftly that people couldn't even make out its true form, there was no panic, only astonishment.
People strove for cultivation, thirsting for power endlessly, whether it was the God and Mortals or the Dragon Shepherds, they all wanted to climb to the rooftop of this world and then look down upon the countless struggling beings beneath their feet.
But it seemed there would always be existences to gaze up at, mysterious, ancient, and powerful, endlessly searched for, yet boundless.
Whether the White Phoenix was more powerful, or the Mountain Immortal Ghost that had obliterated Guangshan's Purple Sect Forest was mightier, Zhu Minglang didn't have an answer in his heart, in any case, these were realms he had yet to touch.
The continents he had seen were merely the tip of the iceberg of this world.
