Twelve years passed in the blink of an eye.
Compared to the endless ages of Immortal Cultivators, twelve years were insignificant, but for ordinary mortals, twelve years could change everything.
...
Far away from the Second Great Mortal World.
The First Great Mortal World.
Inside a barren mountain range where even Spirit Qi was thin and scarce, a dilapidated cave abode stood hidden among countless cliffs.
At this moment, a young man sat cross-legged in darkness.
His black robes were torn in numerous places as several terrifying wounds covered his body.
One slash extended from his shoulder all the way to his waist and a fist sized hole was visible on his chest, black demonic blood occasionally dripping onto the ground.
Yet despite such injuries, the aura surrounding him remained incomparably terrifying.
This was a Tribulation Transcendence Realm cultivator, moreover, not an ordinary Tribulation Transcendence Realm cultivator.
