One breath, two breaths, three breaths.
The Sect Elder seemed to have made thorough and complete preparations, presenting an attitude of absolute, unwavering commitment.
It was not just the unified surge of his entire Qi energy, but the vibrant vitality of a life that had surpassed its destined lifespan, radiating with the breath of death itself.
For a long time, the Sect Elder’s body—solid and unyielding like a great tomb suspended in the world—hovered silently in midair.
His gaze fixed steadily on the farthest depths of the outer sea, looking out toward the boundless blood-red glow that blended the sky and sea into one endless scarlet haze.
A long time passed.
As the tense and urgent atmosphere swirling in the minds of all the cultivators gathered there piled up higher and thicker, finally, that taut string of tension reached its absolute limit.
One by one, those mental strings snapped in the hearts of the cultivators without pause.
Almost instantaneously, the atmosphere of an impending, life-or-death battle suddenly dissipated into nothingness.
Along with this disappearance came a feeling—like some fated duel being denied, postponed by the forces of cause and effect.