There was an unfamiliar air in the galaxy. It was empty, unlike how galaxies were usually. Within that emptiness was some dazzling starlight. A gigantic vortex appeared to the northwest of True Morning Dao World. As its vortex rotated, the sound echoed in all directions.
There were ninety-nine giant stone platforms floating around that vortex. Complicated runic symbols were carved on all of them. When they shone with a dark light, ninety-nine cultivators could be found sitting on them.
There was a rotten presence spreading out from all of them. Their expressions were of indifference, as if they had been sitting there for countless years. There was a huge black sword stuck into the stone platforms, and it was positioned right in front of each person. The weeping of the swords could be heard faintly.
