"Strange."
The Golden Immortal elder of Feather God Palace frowned as he looked at the seal in his hand.
That seal had long since ceased to carry real authority.
The Immortal Realm had abandoned tribes and races millions of years ago and entered the era of the Eight Great Palaces.
The seal no longer symbolized power — it was kept carefully only because it was the key to unlocking the Feather Clan’s ancient territory.
That made it valuable enough to preserve.
But just now, it had clearly been activated.
The fluctuations of spiritual power here had surged so strongly they shot down into the deep sea, and waves of spiritual power had appeared in the depths — the area where that small pocket realm of the clan attached itself to the world.
So why was there no response?
The Feather God Palace elder rubbed his beard, troubled.
Ridicule already began to ripple around the hall.
Whether the Dark Sect immortals were truly skilled in their duels or not, they would never miss a chance to sneer and mock.
Someone had already begun to whisper derisively.
A Golden Immortal of the Dark Sect stepped forward and asked, “Is there a problem with the mystic realm over there?”