Xu Xiaotang appeared from a golden portal above.
A boy decked out in a long, pristine white and golden robe.
With each step he took, his spiritual pressure, like the weight of the heavens bearing down on everything beneath it, got stronger.
Slowly, cracks even formed on the surface of the multi-dimensional dome Yang Wei had created, and the Crystal River Mandala wrapped around the Azure Tree distorted, as if its flow of time was being compromised by the overpowering presence of this being.
If even the multi-dimensional dome and Crystal River Mandala were affected, it goes without saying that the cultivators felt it as well.
A child? Yang Wei thought.
Liáng Xīnyuè and the other cultivators from the 3rd and 2nd paths were utterly shaken. Just the sight of the boy was sufficient to drain every ounce of color from their faces, leaving them trembling with terror as if his mere presence was an affront to their existence.
