The mountain peak.
The youth in blue clothes sat cross-legged, his aura fluctuating before finally stabilizing in the late-stage Xiantian realm.
"Too fast."
Jiang Ding opened his eyes, inwardly marveling.
It had been just over a month since he went from the early-stage Xiantian straight to the late-stage Xiantian. The progression was beyond a mere leap, and most importantly, his foundation was stable, without any discomfort—in fact, one could say it was excessively stable.
"With the talent of a taozi-level of the Nine Great Immortal Sects practicing martial inner power, it truly seems somewhat wasteful."
Jiang Ding felt a mix of self-pity and self-derision.
But it wasn't a total waste.
