The gentle breeze stirred, causing the elder's clothing to sway with the wind.
The owner of the clothing had long since become bones buried in the sediment of time, so much so that within the skeleton was a tangle of old cotton padding, dense vines, and such—a chaotic mess that was impossible to identify.
Ning Daoran sat there in a daze, his Golden Core Divine Sense detecting an object.
About a zhang away from the clothing, half of a broken Flying Sword was embedded in the wrinkled bark of the "Holy Tree."
Although the Flying Sword was broken, it had not lost all its Spiritual Energy, still faintly emitting a bloody red hue.
The Flying Sword was very familiar; it was indeed something Ning Daoran had personally crafted back in the day.
He remained composed, slowly closing his eyes.
...
"Boom boom boom~~~"
In the midst of drumbeats, the Great Witch of the Guiyuan Sect shouted loudly, "Those who are to be blessed, step forward and seek the Holy Tree's divine favor!"
