At the age of fifty-seven: You have completely lost your distinct character, and many who were once inferior to you have surpassed you, each shining with their own brilliance.
You were once a genius among your peers, even if you failed to compete for the position of the true disciple, with your own strength and personal charm, you were still surrounded by countless devotees and held a place of your own within the immortal sect.
However, the battle in which you slew the demons, not only resulted in casualties among your followers, you too were severely wounded. Those who once admired your strength scattered like birds, leaving you behind.
Now, you are just an insignificant soldier in the Cultivation methods pavilion.
