Ling Mountain towers a thousand zhang high, its summit seemingly cut flat by a sword, forming a huge rocky platform.
On the mountaintop platform, pavilions soar, and the black palace stands solemn and majestic.
Numerous millennia-old spirit trees grow everywhere, steeped in deep history, clearly not newly built.
There are also thirteen ancient towers suspended amid the clouds, faintly visible, blending seamlessly with the laws of heaven and the springs of earth.
It’s unclear whether they are magical artifacts or the residences of some mysterious powerful cultivators.
On a square paved with bluish jade formation stones, newly enlisted lower-tier sentinels patrol and stand guard.
Upon seeing Qin Lao, they salute in unison.
Among the lower-tier sentinels standing guard, Li Weiyi spots a familiar face.
A Silver Pure Immortal Body cultivator, Tuoba Butuo.
Tuoba Butuo beams with joy, waving from afar and calling out, “Brother Weiyi, fantastic! You’re here too? I heard you’ve taken the Grand Palace Lord as your master?”
Seeing Tuoba, Li Weiyi isn’t too surprised.