As they walked through the grand healing hall, every disciple they passed bowed deeply to Jiang Chen, their eyes filled with awe and respect. His authority as the Holy Son of the Purple Heaven Holy Land was undeniable, his presence like a blazing sun that no one could ignore.
Yet, despite their reverence, the disciples quickly moved on, their minds focused on the looming danger of the demonic beast tide. The air buzzed with tension, heavy and stifling, like a storm on the verge of breaking.
Trailing behind Jiang Chen, Fang Yuan stayed silent, a bitter tightness growing in his chest.
There was a time when he, too, had commanded such respect—praised as a heavenly prodigy, admired by all who met him. But now, watching the disciples gather around Jiang Chen's brilliance, his past glory felt distant, almost like it belonged to someone else. Even if by some miracle he regained his status, it would be a brief triumph, overshadowed by Jiang Chen's unstoppable rise.
