Zhang Yan entered seclusion, and in the blink of an eye, seventeen years had passed.
On this day, a thunderous roar rose from the Little Pot Mirror, like the beat of a drum in the heavens, resonating with a mighty sound.
Zhang Yan sat cross-legged on the Jade Couch, with his heart facing the sky. The Qi Mechanism on his body surged, the Elixir Evil billowing out like smoke, permeating the bamboo tower and spreading outward, filling the entire area with its presence. In an instant, his whole being seemed enveloped in thick clouds, his form barely discernible through the dense mist.
Soon after, from within that misty cloud, radiant streams of light began to flash. First emerged a golden halo, appearing only for a moment before releasing an eerie sharpness that shattered the bamboo tower, shooting hundreds of feet away. The sound of tearing through the air echoed, the Radiant Energy trailing, cold light reaching from the ground to the sky, disappearing only after a while.
