"Reporting to the ancestor, this junior is the current Saint Master of the Celestial Thunder Sacred Land!"
Duanmu Yan answered truthfully.
The man in green shifted his gaze from him, surveying the Secret Realm Space before looking toward the sky, as if he could penetrate the entire Secret Realm Space.
"What year is it now, and how long has this seat slept?"
His voice was hoarse, filled with the vicissitudes of time.
Duanmu Yan, who was already well informed about the many ancestors who slept in the Secret Realm, responded without hesitation, "Ancestor, you have been asleep for thirty thousand years!"
"Thirty thousand years..."
Upon hearing this time, there was a trace of confusion in the eyes of the man in green.
Thirty thousand years.
Enough to witness the changes of the world.
Had he not self-sealed, he might have perished long ago.
"After thirty thousand years, I wonder how many old friends are left; perhaps they have long returned to dust and earth!"
